#geraskier museum au

[jaskierror]

in ways that can't be said — chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE — SNORES & SNORTS

Geralt, a very tired and very overworked librarian, finds an eccentrically dressed man asleep in the library right as they're about to close.

Jaskier, a very tired and very overworked educator at the local museum, accidentally falls asleep in a library whilst doing research for an upcoming exhibit and is awoken by a devastatingly attractive librarian.

---

By the time closing rolled around, Geralt really, truly, honestly just wanted to go home.

In general, Geralt preferred to not work closing shifts. The library stayed open until 7pm most evenings, but he liked to be home with Ciri as early as possible; Lambert was always happy to watch her until Geralt got off work, given that Lambert’s job in Dol Blathanna’s Public Works department wasn’t a traditional 9-to-5, but, well. Geralt missed his daughter, is all, and was perhaps a bit clingy when it came to her. Sue him for loving his kid.

Despite his reluctance to work past 5pm, Renfri had caught the flu, and Geralt had agreed to cover her shift while she recovered, meaning he would be at the library until about 7:30. Of course, by the time it was half past 5, he was itching to get home—by then, he would normally be pulling into his driveway in Upper Posada, and Ciri would be running outside to greet him while Lambert watched them with poorly disguised fondness from the front porch. He would pick his daughter up, balance her on his hip, ask her about her day at school and what she and her Uncle Lambert had been up to since she got home. He would get to kiss her on her forehead, and cook dinner (lately, she had become a big fan of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets), and—

Anyway. Enough of that.

The minutes and hours ticked by with relentless, deliberate slowness, and Geralt felt nothing but relief when it was finally,  finally time  to start closing. Zoltan offered to organize the information desk and the front seating areas while Geralt swept the shelves for any stragglers and re-shelved any books sitting around.

Geralt worked quickly, eager to finish up and return home—in the back of his mind, he wondered what Lambert and Ciri had eaten for dinner—and he was returning a book of traditional Temerian recipes to its rightful shelf when he heard…

Well.

It seemed to be somewhere between a snore and a snort, in all honesty, and Geralt could only sigh deeply and brace himself before rounding the corner.

He had been expecting any of a number of things, really. Typically, it was elderly people who would fall asleep at the tables, but in his years of working at the library, Geralt had practically seen it all.

Still, he was surprised when, in one of the cushioned wooden chairs, slumped down onto the round table and surrounded by a veritable pile of books, was a man with a mop of brown hair actively using an open book as a pillow. There was a peaceful expression on his face, features soft and neutral and relaxed, and he seemed to be drooling onto the book just a bit. His clothing was… colourful, mostly. He wore a pair of bright purple slacks and brown loafers. On top of a short-sleeved button down, he had on a sweater vest with a garish blue leaf pattern covering it. There was a well-made leather satchel slung over the back of his chair, and Geralt spotted an assortment of silver rings on his hand.

Right as Geralt finished looking him over, the man released another ungodly snore from deep within his chest, and Geralt had to resist the urge to snort in amusement as he walked over and shook the man gently by his shoulder. Almost immediately, he grumbled into the book and began to blink awake, and Geralt hastily removed his hand, waiting patiently as he got his wits about him.

After a quick stretch in his seat, the man twisted to face him, still blinking the tiredness from his eyes, and Geralt was shocked by just how blue they were as he stared up at Geralt. The man froze for a moment, looking a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, before he seemed to take in his surroundings and look properly embarrassed.

“Sorry,” the man grinned sheepishly, then paused to yawn and rub at his eye before continuing. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Do you, uh, happen to know what time it is?”

Geralt looked down at his watch, then back up at the man. “Five till seven.”

“Oh, fuck,” he cursed, standing up. (Geralt was slightly ashamed to admit that he hadn’t realized until just then that the man was of a height with him.) He began hastily stacking books and piling some in his arms. “Is there still time to check these out? I can come back tomorrow if not, but I was really hoping that I—”

“Calm down,” Geralt said, raising an eyebrow at the man’s hurried, panicked flurry of movement. “Go to the desk. Zoltan can help you. You can leave anything you’re not borrowing here.”

Relief and hope flashed though the man’s unnecessarily blue eyes. “You’re sure?”

Geralt just nodded stiffly, watching as the man thanked him profusely and gathered his things, carrying a handful of books with him as he rushed off toward the lobby. Once he’d disappeared and his shuffling footsteps faded out, Geralt rummaged through the rest of the titles he’d accumulated. They all seemed to be on art and music across the Continent—a book of Aedirnian folk songs, a history of Kerackian musical movements, an encyclopaedia of Kaedweni sculptors. Geralt hummed under his breath, then began the monotonous job of putting everything in its rightful place.

---

In his defense, Jaskier really hadn’t meant to fall asleep at the table.

Ever since he’d moved to Aedirn, he found himself exhausted more often than not. His life had consisted of a series of rather sporadic, spontaneous moves ever since he decided to leave his family home in Kerack to pursue the arts. He’d moved to Redania years ago to attend none other than Oxenfurt Academy, and had spent his summers gallivanting around the countryside with his schoolfriends. After three years of study, he graduated with degrees in Music Performance and Art History, and a year later, had earned a graduate degree as well. He had then promptly departed for a year of backpacking through Temeria, after which he’d returned to Oxenfurt to teach for a term. Most recently, he had uprooted his entire life to move to Dol Blathanna. He’d decided on a bit of a whim that he needed a change of pace—new places, new sights, new people. As soon as he had a job lined up as an educator and program developer at the Dol Blathanna’s Museum of Art and History—which, everyone had to admit, was truly a perfect fit for him—he had packed his things and been on his way.

That had been nearly two months ago, and Jaskier had been working overtime to establish a life for himself in the city. He’d always been a restless person, needing noise and hustle and bustle to keep himself sane, so he had signed a lease for a rather expensive apartment close to the city’s center. On the bright side, the location made his commute to work rather convenient, and he was near enough to nightlife that he had found a handful of bars and cafés he could play the occasional gig at. He’d also taken to offering music lessons on the weekends to help make ends meet. Between his musical pursuits, unpredictable work hours, and numerous side jobs, he was, well. Pretty tired, all things considered.

However, there was no time to rest! He had been tasked with a laundry list of assignments at work in order to prepare for the summer; the museum always put on educational programming and enrichment opportunities for children when schools were out of session, and Jaskier’s job was to propose and develop said programming. Thus, on one of his rare days off, he had gone to the library to do a bit of light research; he had a handful of ideas for some interactive exhibits, but he needed to flesh them out a bit more.

The research ended up being less light than he had planned, because of course it had, and soon enough, Jaskier had a pile of books around him. By the time he had finished flipping through the third book, he was becoming rather tired, and—

Okay, well. Look. Here’s the thing. Jaskier was tired, and he had been up until very early in the morning because he’d played a gig for some swanky hotel bar in the central business district, and the library was just cold enough that it was making him drowsy, and the sounds of people flipping through pages and trodding up and down the aisles was soothing him, and the books were, in all honesty, starting to bore him, and—

He fell asleep. He fell asleep, okay, and in his opinion, that was a very reasonable consequence given the clusterfuck of a headache his week had been.

Next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by a man gorgeous enough that Jaskier, for a brief moment, froze in place and forgot entirely where he was. (He froze, which he never does. Julian Alfred Pankratz does not freeze, gods dammit, but sweet Melitele, who could blame him? The man was stunning.) He was tall and broad-shouldered, his long white hair tied messily into an updo with a few strands framing his face; he had honey-golden eyes, a strong brow and nose and jawline, and a few faint scars decorating his face. He wore a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a very flattering pair of black jeans. He also, much to Jaskier’s embarrassment, had a name-tag; in large letters, it read GERALT RIVIA, and underneath, in smaller text, LIBRARIAN . The library’s logo was depicted to the left.

A very gorgeous man, and a librarian to boot? Unfair.

Though he tried to appear smooth and suave and generally like a competent, put-together adult, Jaskier knew he fumbled through his interaction with the man, and he felt a bit like a fool the entire time. As he practically scurried off with his handful of books, his face and neck warmed with embarrassment. At the desk, he found the “Zoltan” individual Geralt had spoken of, a short, stocky man with a mohawk and full beard, and Jaskier hurried through the transaction before practically fleeing from the library. It wasn’t until he had returned to his apartment nearly twenty minutes later that he finally felt like he could breathe again.

He went through his evening routine of taking a scalding hot shower, changing into pajamas, and lounging on his couch with leftover takeout and a glass of Est Est. (Est Est was definitely beyond what he could afford at the moment; that particular bottle had been a farewell gift from Essi.) As he ate and drank, he flipped through the books he had checked out and wrote out ideas, notes, and questions in his work notebook. And if he occasionally remembered his downright embarrassing encounter at the library and then buried his face in a pillow as he tried to emotionally recover, that was nobody’s business but his own.

As the hours passed and the clock crept closer to midnight, he’d come up with more questions than anything else, which was. A bit of an issue.

Even with his extensive studies in art history, Jaskier didn’t know as much about Aedirnian artistic customs—his studies had placed a focus on traditions in remote, mountainous regions of Redania and Kaedwen. He could talk for hours about the production of Redanian watercolour paints, and had quite literally co-written one of the most comprehensive books on Kaedweni folk music, but he’d wanted the museum’s summer programming to have an emphasis on local arts, which meant that he’d need some help.

He then realized that this probably meant asking one of his new coworkers for direction, which he would, to be quite frank, rather perish than do, because he felt that most of them already thought he was silly and foppish and deeply unserious, with the way he was always running to and fro with his head barely attached to his shoulders, never seen without a cup of coffee and bags under his eyes. However, it was either facing his coworkers, all of whom had chronic cases of stick-up-the-ass-itis, or… going back to the library, and potentially facing the tall-gorgeous-intimidating librarian again. (Geralt, his brain supplied helpfully.)

Neither option sounded particularly appealing, and both avenues would undoubtedly lead to Jaskier making a fool of himself, so he decided that he would simply go to the library as soon as it opened at nine in the morning; he severely doubted that the man would be working from nine to seven on a daily basis, so he was probably in the clear.

…Probably.

---

AN: hey y'all! hope you enjoy chapter 1!! keep up with me on my ao3, found +here, and my twitter @nottveth. chapters 2 and 3 are already written and posted on ao3, but will be updated here over the next few days.

[thedemonofcat]

Hey could someone help me Find this story on Ao3. The Witcher Geraskier. Modern day au. Where Jaskier is the reincarnation of Geralt's dead husband Dandelion. Last time I read it, it was incomplete. Through out the story it implied that Dandelion died during a hunt and that Geralt Geralt's guilty. Earlier in the story, Dandelion's grave is discovered and his belongings are put in a museum.

I read this story awhile ago and have wanted to reread it again.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Statuesque Finale

The final installment of my museum au!

Other Parts Here

---

Jaskier looked just as beautiful as he did any other day, carved out in unforgiving grey marble, his eyes pupil-less and vacant. His body was perfectly formed, each muscle, hair, and fold of clothing was carved by a masterful hand. He was frozen forever like that and Geralt hated it. He hated the falseness of the stone grace. There was no trace of Jaskier’s usual charming, nearly perpetual wave of sound. There was no warm smile. No fluttering lashes. No gentle voice that soothed and provoked in equal measure; that teased and placated Geralt like some kind of conversational acrobat. 

Nothing looked back at Geralt but a face made of cold, emotionless stone. It stared into the distance almost mockingly. Was Jaskier even in there anymore or had his soul been forfeited as well as his body? Sometimes the newly born human could hear that familiar dulcet voice at the back of his head, whispering: You did this to me. You made me this way. You tricked me, Geralt. You did! You!

The ex-demon was buried so deeply in his cloud of self-loathing that he didn’t notice a dark-haired woman approaching. She bumped into his hip with her own, jostling him to the side and away from any listening ears. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, stepping back a half-pace and even further from the gathered audience. She followed. 

“You visit often but you never look around,” the woman remarked, her own gaze equally fixed on the marble figure. “You always choose to stand here, out of the way of the crowd but always within view of this particular statue. You keep your arms crossed and that same sad scowl on your face, staring for hours at this reclining demon carving. What is it about this statue that drives you to brood so violently?”

“Hmm,” Geralt replied. Usually stoicism got him some peace and quiet.

The strange woman was not dissuaded; she continued to talk, almost as if she was carrying on the conversation with only herself as a partner: “He reminds me of someone. An old museum employee, actually, who mysteriously disappeared one night and never returned. Not even to pick up his last paycheck, although that went missing, too. Gone right out of the mailbox without a solitary flicker of an image on the security camera. Do you know anything about that, Broody Bunch?”

“No,” he muttered. “Why are you talking to me?”

The woman gave a slow, quiet half-smile. “So you used to be a demon, huh? That used to be you up there?”

Geralt’s head snapped to the side. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Punky Broodster,” the woman smirked, looking him in the eyes now. “You were the demon from before, weren’t you? You fell in love with him.”

“I just needed him to say the words to lift the curse,” he huffed. “Now, as repayment for his kindness, I’m keeping him safe.”

“Admit it, child of darkness. You can tell me if you miss him. You can whisper to me that you yearn to hear his voice and feel his touch, freely and without restraint or limitation. You don’t feel like eating or sleeping even though you’ve been dreaming of your potential human life for years. You barely take care of yourself because every moment that passes feels wrong without him in it. Admit it to me, demon, and I will take it as confession.”

“What are you?” 

The woman shrugged again, just as nonchalantly and noncommittally as before, “I am a representative of the Powers That Be.”

“And what do they want with a little ex-demon?”

“It’s not you that I’m here to look after. It’s him.”

“Jaskier?”

“He has a very important role to play,” she stated. “And now you’ve gone and complicated things.”

“My sincerest apologies,” Geralt grimaced. It was never good to upset the Powers That Be. He was about to go from one curse right into another. “I do love, him though. You’re right. And I miss him more than words in any language can express, human or celestial.”

“Good. Then we can get on with it.”

“Get on with what?”

“I’m here to give you the secret to breaking the spell. It’s going to make you laugh, I promise.”

“Hmm?”

“True love’s kiss. You smooch that statue on the lips,” she pointed, “And he’s all yours.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hmm.”

---

Geralt walked across the empty expanse of room; it had looked so much smaller when he was stuck to the pedestal. It seemed to take forever for him to reach the statue now. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Jaskier,” he mumbled as he drew close enough to touch. “I’m so incredibly sorry.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to the statue’s, and watched with bright eyes as the dreary grey of carved stone faded to the soft, warm pink of the young man’s skin. “G-Geralt?”

All the ex-demon could do was throw his arms around the human’s slender waist and hold on for dear life. He buried his nose in Jaskier’s soft brown hair and breathed in deeply, so deeply that it pained his lungs to inhale any further. He released it all in a pent up sob, his hands fisting into the material of Jaskier’s scanty toga. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, over and over like a mantra. He knew he was undeserving. “I’m so sorry, Jaskier. I love you, too. I do. I love you.”

Jaskier was clinging back, crying in tandem and snuffling little hiccups against the side of Geralt’s neck. “I missed you. I saw you keeping an eye on me. I saw you. I knew you’d find a way to get me back.”

“The Powers That Be have great things in store for you,” Geralt smiled. “They couldn’t let my stupidity put out that bright spark.”

“You’re half that spark, now,” Jaskier sighed, cuddling closer. “Now take me home and get me some pants, this is awful.”

[toapoet]

SOLVED

if anyone DOES see this, could they possibly help me find a modern au geraskier fic pls? i think it was on ao3, multi chaptered. pretty sure Geralt and the boys all worked at a museum because I think roach was a dinosaur. I believe at the end he proposed to Jaskier with a ring made of stone or dinosaur bone or something

[jaskierswolf]

Weight on My Shoulders

A very self-indulgent prequel to my not so kinky soulmate AU (Tumblr/AO3).

Any references to events or messages involving my own darling soulmate @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde is purely coincidental. I promise we are much more needy than this.

Ship: Geraskier (pre-romantic)

CW: Far too much pining, mentions of anxiety, long distance friendships

_____

Jaskier pouted as he wrapped himself up in his weighted blanket and duvet. Even with the additional weight he was struggling to sleep properly, but it did help. What would really help was a hug from his soulmate, but that was off the table. Geralt was a bazillion lightyears away, all the way in America, and Jaskier was stuck in miserable, grey England. They’d been talking online for two years, and the distance wasn’t getting any easier. If anything it was getting worse, and Jaskier wasn’t sure how much more he could take of it.

“Jask, you’re falling asleep, love,” Geralt hummed from the too bright screen that was lighting up his room. “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed,” Jaskier huffed.

“Go to sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

Jaskier whined, sinking further into his blanket burrito. “But I have work again tomorrow, I don’t want to sleep. I want to talk to you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Geralt sighed, smiling warmly at him through the screen, “But I will be here when you wake, I promise.”

“I’d rather you be here with me.”

It was pathetic. Jaskier knew it was pathetic, but he just felt a warmth in his chest, a ghost of Geralt’s arms around him.

“I’m always here” Geralt hummed in his mind.

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s mental embrace, letting himself soak in the glow of his soulmate’s warmth. He was struggling to keep his eyes open which didn’t really matter but he only had a few hours each day to video call his soulmate and he hated wasting any of them. It had been worse the last few days. Essi and Pris had announced they were going to honeymoon in New York, and whilst they wouldn’t see Geralt, they would be a whole lot closer than Jaskier had ever been. He’d even considered asking to tag along in their suitcases so he could afford the trip to the States.

He just missed Geralt so fucking much.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, wiping the tears from his eyes that he hadn’t even realised had formed. “I love you more than Dandelion.”

He tried to laugh but it sounded weak to his own ears. Dandelion was a musician, just like he was hoping to be, a beautiful tall elegant man with gorgeous long blond curls, and a laugh that could outshine a thousand suns. He was also Jaskier’s celebrity crush and inspiration. Jaskier had been obsessed since he was sixteen, secretly hoping that Dandelion was his soulmate. Not much had changed since meeting Geralt in his dreams. He was still completely obsessed with the musician, only his daydreams tended to include Geralt as well, a fact that his soulmate thankfully found endearing.

“Wow,” Geralt chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s high praise.”

“It’s true! I would renounce my love of Dandelion for mere seconds in your arms,” Jaskier insisted, “and then I would never let you go and you’d be stuck with me.”

“It would be hard to work with a Jaskier in my arms.”

Jaskier scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “You’ll manage.”

“Sleep, Jask,” Geralt’s words were a low hum, added weight to his blanket and Jaskier could feel himself slipping. He supposed it was only a matter of time really, it was nearly midnight and Jaskier had to get up at an ungodly hour for work. “For me.”

And really that was just unfair. Geralt knew that Jaskier would do anything for him. He was just that desperate for attention, although despite his slightly less dramatic personality, Geralt could be equally needy, if you knew how to read him.

“That’s cheating,” Jaskier whined.

“I never said I play fair.”

“Betrayed by my own soulmate,” Jaskier pouted as Geralt hung up the call and his tiny little bedroom fell into darkness. Without the light of his phone, Jaskier was fighting a losing battle. “I love you, dear heart.”

“I love you too, a lot. Too much.”

Jaskier scoffed, turning to hug his pillow. “Never too much, never enough. Goodnight, my love”

“Night, Jask.”

_______

When he awoke the next morning, Jaskier had a notification on his phone. It wasn’t unusual. Geralt often left him little messages, pictures of Roach, or things that had reminded him of Jaskier throughout the day. Sometimes, if Jaskier was lucky, Geralt would leave him gifs of Dandelion, and on even rarer occasions, awkward selfies that were never flattering despite Geralt’s godlike appearance. Jaskier treasured every single one. But no, that morning he had a more unusual notification.

It was from Lambert.

They’d talked a couple of times, mostly in a group chat whenever Geralt wanted to include Jaskier on family film night or playing games online, which Jaskier was shockingly terrible at, especially the shooting games the boys preferred. Lambert had never DM’d Jaskier before though. There had never been an occasion to, so why bother?

So Jaskier was feeling more than a little anxious about clicking on the message.

“Geralt?” he tested, although he was pretty positive that his soulmate was asleep. Geralt would usually at least say good morning when he was awake, but there had been nothing but silence through their soulbond.

It came as no surprise when Geralt didn’t answer.

His phone buzzed again in his hand, another message from Lambert.

“Bollocks,” Jaskier groaned, sitting up in bed so he could find his glasses. They were buried under his blanket and looking a little bent out of shape but that was nothing new.

L - Guess who’s coming to England on a business trip!

Jaskier’s heart jumped and hope soared through his body, a flutter of wings in his chest as his pulse raced, only to be destroyed in the next second.

L - It’s not Geralt, shit. I should have started with that.

- It’s me.

- I’m coming to England. Found out this morning. All expenses paid. - I’ll be in London for a week, if you want to meet up?

Jaskier stared at his phone. He was excited, of course he was but he couldn’t help the ache in his heart. His friend was coming to England. Geralt’s family was coming to England. That was one step closer to meeting his soulmate in person, but it wasn’t far enough. He felt like shit. Guilt tore through him. Lambert was clearly excited about his news and yet all Jaskier could think of was how he wasn’t Geralt.

Maybe he could give Lambert something to take back to Geralt. They’d sent letters and parcels back and forth but it would be different like this, and he should be excited. He should be over the fucking moon.

And truth be told, if he hadn’t felt so incredibly needy already he probably would have been more excited, but his heart was feeling fragile. Jaskier had spent the last week or so wondering if Geralt loved him back in a romantic way, or whether they would just be the dearest of friends. Whatever it was, Jaskier would be fine. That’s how soulbonds worked. They would be perfect for one another, platonically or romantically but Jaskier fell hard and fast.

Surely Geralt would love him back in the same way, right?

Jaskier was too afraid to ask at this point. He just kept saying “I love you” and hoping that Geralt would hear the truth. Neither of them had spoken about dating other people, but Jaskier knew there was no hope for him. Perhaps the odd fling, but he’d tried that once and without the connection he had with Geralt, he just wasn’t really into it.

He sighed dramatically and picked up his phone.

J - That’s fucking brilliant!!

He added a stream of emojis for good luck.

J - and all expenses paid for?! Drinks are on you, darling x

L - You should be so lucky.

- Pay for your own drink you cheapskate.

Jaskier squinted at the screen, pushing his fringe from his face. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and he ignored the dryness in his throat. Logically, he knew he should get up and get some water but his bed was comfy and he didn’t quite want to face the day yet, especially as Geralt was asleep. Things just felt heavier when Geralt was asleep.

He sighed again and tapped out a message.

J - Can you sneak Geralt in your suitcase?

- I’ll pay for the luggage fee <3

Lambert started typing immediately and Jaskier waited with bated breath. It had been a joke but there was always a chance that Lambert would be allowed a plus one… right?

L - I’m afraid not

- I’m sorry. I know you want to meet.

- Geralt is just as upset. The bastard hasn’t spoken to me all day.

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh at that. He’d sensed something had been bothering his soulmate, especially when Geralt was the one to insist they video-called before Jaskier went to bed, but it was nice to hear that he wasn’t the only one being pathetic and unreasonably grumpy. Sometimes it felt like Jaskier felt everything and Geralt was just putting up with him because he didn’t have much choice. In his heart, Jaskier knew that wasn’t true, that Geralt just showed his love in a more sedate manner.

Opposites really do attract.

He sighed and switched chats, typing out a quick message to his soulmate.

J - I miss you. I love you. I will be unbearably needy today. Sorry!

Flipping his phone to the camera app, Jaskier snapped a quick selfie. He looked like a mess of stubble, glasses and ratty hair… but Geralt never seemed to mind.

J - Isn’t your soulmate the best?

- Love me?

- I love you

- I already said that but it’s true.

Jaskier cursed and threw his phone onto the end of the bed before remembering that he hadn’t answered Lambert yet. He pouted and scrambled to find his phone again, struggling against the weight of his blanket. The blanket did wonders for his ADHD but it could be a pain in the arse to move sometimes. Reluctantly, he switched back to Lambert’s chat.

J - I can’t wait to show you around! Ooh we could go to the natural history museum, I’m sure some of the stuffed animals look just like you! Or maybe a show!

L - Not sure how much I’’ll be able to hang out, but we’ll have to get a photo to show Geralt.

- He’ll probably be jealous.

- But he’ll manage.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. Siblings could be the worst. He’d never really gotten on well with his own sisters but he could imagine having Lambert for a brother would be a hundred times worse. Still, he smiled at his phone. Geralt would be jealous. Geralt wanted to meet him. That was a good thing, no matter how much Jaskier pined to see his soulmate over Lambert.

This was a start.

One day.

They would meet one day, and then Jaskier would never have to let him go. He just had to be patient… for now.

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

WIP Game of Shame: okay first of all, how am I supposed to only pick a couple because these all sound AMAZING.

Jaskier's goin conspiracy board on his past life

Small god of Kaer Morhen

Hey There Cirilla

Viper!Jaskier

okay now that I'm not mobile I can touch on all this. :3

Jaskier's goin conspiracy board on his past life:

I think in this case you get an excerpt. :3

"He's definitely your ancestor or something!" Maddie told Jaskier with a laugh as she snapped a picture of him posing in front of the large portrait in the Novigrad Art Museum.

"I wish," Jaskier said with a laugh once she'd lowered her phone to post it online. "No one in my family history could ever have been this cool, we'd have long droning stories about them."

They'd come to the museum to get some pictures of themselves with the art, to prove they'd been so they could get extra credit in their art history class, and tucked into some little alcove of the labyrinthine exhibit they had found it. A portrait of a handsome nobleman posing dramatically as his sword pierced the heart of... probably a wyvern. Jaskier had never managed to remember the difference between them and dragons, even if dragons didn't exist anymore and wyverns were still out there, though they were rare. The man looked like Jaskier if he were about ten years older and grew a goatee, which had delighted both of them.

"Maybe it'll go viral and I'll get to be famous for like five minutes," he mused wistfully, while Maddie looked closer at the painting. It had been among a number of works found in an underground storeroom during a construction project years ago, painstakingly restored, and now finally on display in this "art of Medieval Novigrad and Oxenfurt" exhibit.

small god of kaer morhen:

So this is a fic about if a spirit were attached to Kaer Morhen that was essentially like... the guardian/patron of it and the wolf witchers? And I maybe used a conlang builder to make two different conlangs for it and if I ever actually write it I think ppl will enjoy it :3

Hey There Cirilla:

Dadskier! aka the modern AU where Jaskier is Ciri's very loving but kinda deadbeat dad, Yen basically raised her, and both Ciri and Jaskier get ADHD diagnoses and treatment. Jaskier's not REALLY a deadbeat, he's got untreated ADHD and depression, and knew when he was 19 and found out he'd knocked Pavetta up and Pavetta was dead that he wasn't in a position to raise his daughter in a way that would give her the stability and opportunities she deserved, and so he and Yen (her godmother) decided it was best if Yen raised her and Jaskier just visited sometimes, but now Ciri's having trouble in school and needs her dad and Jaskier's determined to figure out how to do better for her.

Features enemies-to-lovers (sorta) Geraskier, bc Geralt initially is under the impression that Jaskier actually IS a deadbeat dad and finds that unacceptable.

Viper!Jaskier:

aka by god still am, my beloved. That one AU where Jaskier was a witcher the whole time but had no memory of it. It was the first proper fic I started in Witcher fandom, and ONE DAY I WILL FUCKING FINISH IT GDI.

[fandom-star]

Writer’s Tag

@its-all-ineffable tagged me to do this, but it’s a long one so I’m doing it in a different post! Thank you very much! I love doing these so much!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How many works do you have on AO3?

164 (possibly 165 by the weekend if I post the Witcher one I finished the other day)

What's your total AO3 word count?

181468

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It’s Okay (Merlin: Merthur) - 569 Kudos Pulchra (Night At The Museum: Jedtavius) [NSFW] - 286 Kudos A Father’s Wisdom (Merlin: Merthur: Uther-centric) - 270 Kudos Crush (MCU Spider-Man: PeterNed) - 262 Kudos Comfort Blankets For Sleepy Gods (MCU Loki Series: Lokius) - 245

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes. I try to if I’m not in a non-social mood. Mostly, if I start off on my page before reading any fic and see that I have something in my inbox and it turns out to be a comment on my fic, then I’m more likely to reply to it. Idk why it works like that. Otherwise, it’s kinda touch and go whether or not I’ll reply to something, you’ve got a 50/50 chance, but I always read and appreciate every one that I get.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

*Looks at my abundance of angst fics* There’s... a surprising amount of angst without happy endings in my repertoire. Um. I’ll give you three that I vividly remember. (All of these are Star Trek and Spones) Written In The Stars - This is one of my really early works, and was gonna have a sequel that made it have a less angsty ending, but I could never get into the rhythm of writing it. I won’t spoil it, but this is probably the only fic I’ve written where Sarek is a straight-up dick. Battlefield - As the title suggests, there’s war with no real context. And major character death. It’s sad. I genuinely made people cry with this. I am both proud and apologetic of that. Unreal - This is probably one of my more complex concepts, and I’m really proud of it. Features ooc Spock with contextual reasons I won’t spoil, defensive/protective McCoy and major character death of a sort.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

This is kind of difficult, bc while I have excessively written angsty endings (see: above answer) I do usually write happy endings, and I can’t remember all 160 fic endings left over, and even then it’s difficult to rank them by happiest. I like Nutcase {Murdoch Mysteries: Watts-centric) a lot, oh and also Blame It On Me (Star Trek Pricard: Hughnor) which is angst with a happy ending (and has amazing art accompanying it). There are many others with happy endings, but like I said I have no idea how to rank them by “happiest”.

Do you write crossovers? If so, What is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t really, but I have written one as a request that I really really enjoyed. A Good Day is ThorBruce and is set in the DS9 era of Star Trek, in which Thor is a captain and Bruce is his chief science officer. It’s really adorable and features sleepy, over-worked Bruce and a very characteristically happy Thor.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don’t think so, unless you count unsolicited advice I felt I couldn’t turn down on ff.net when I was struggling to write Uhura. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t tbh (not that I’m complaining) since I do write for some very popular fandoms and ships (although, conversely, also some very niche fandoms and ships).

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I write it but have only ever posted it thee, four times if you count the exploratory one I posted under a pseudonym that wasn’t really that smutty. I’m hoping to get the confidence up to post some of what I’ve written tho, bc I do really like hat I’ve managed to do with some of it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I’m aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I have! A lovely person found my fic 1967, which is probably one of my favourite Spones fics I’ve written, based around the UK’s decriminalisation (well, partial) of homosexuality, and traslated it into Hungarian here. I’ve not been able to check it out, due to not knowing a thing in the language (tho I could probably ask my friend to) but the translator seemed really lovely, so I trust them to have done a good job.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not something I posted, but before I even started posting fanfic, me and my best friend really randomly started writing a Star Trek TNG x Star Wars crossover whenever they were at my house. We gave up on it after about a year and never wrote much for it, but it was... it was something.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This changes all the time with my hyperfixations! One that will always be in my heart is obviously Spones, my og ship and within my special interest. Currently I’m obsessed with The Witcher so I’ve got Geraskier on the mind but who knows when that might change!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

In terms of fanfic I don’t really have any that I don’t think I’ll ever finish. I have an original script that I started writing months ago but only got about three scenes into and haven’t touched since bc I don’t actually have a plot for it.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue; Is situations one? That sounds like a good and fancy way of saying AUs; Finding synonyms should be one, that’s like half my search history

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description; Despite my talent of finding synonyms I feel like I do repeat words a lot; Planning and outlining, I just don’t do it - it works for me tho.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve really done it is for Jedtavius (having Oct speak in Latin occasionally) and I might have done it once or twice with Spock speaking Vulcan, both times it’s mostly terms of endearment or Oct wanting to be romantic. Idk, I don’t really care about reading dialogue in other languages as long as there’s a translation somewhere in the work or I can easily pick it up or search it. Just do whatever, it’s your writing. As long as you do it well and it makes contextual sense, I don’t really care.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Unposted: Star Trek: The Next Gen Posted: Sherlock (I actually recently reread my first ever posted fic, it’s a long haul (just over 45k), but if anyone ever wants to see a work where my writing visibly improves lemme know and I’ll email the pdf to you)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Why would you do this to me??? I love most of my fics!!! I’m just gonna link a few here cause I’ve been doing this for an hour now and it would definitely take me an hour to choose just one! The Relationship Series - modern AU, autistic Spock (written by a self-projecting autistic writer), there’s angst spattered about but is especially prominent in part 6, I just really love this series Promises You Can’t Keep - Loki spoilers, I love this bc it’s based on “what if my finale theory was right instead of being debunked three minutes into the episode”, definitely angst with a hopeful ending I love all of my Charite At War fics, but I’m gonna link my 20 years post-canon fic Grow Old With Me and my modern AU You Give Me Your Light - both have some heavy topics (post-canon is set in 1960s East Germany, modern AU topics are tagged) but I adore both with my entire heart You’ll Never Burn - Merlin/Merthur, again kinda heavy (not as heavy as the Charite ones in my opinion) but short and everything is tagged I love all of my Babylon 5 fics but Secret Rendezvous will always have a special place in my heart. It’s very sweet and essentially follows Vir and Lennier trying to navigate coming out about their relationship to their ambassadors I also recommend all the of the fics I’ve already linked in the post ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now for the hard part - tagging!

@esperata @tallysgreatestfan @iwritesometimes @marlinspirkhall and any other writer mutuals I’ve likely forgotten but I’ve already spent WAY too long writing this post asfdhdskjdgha So I apologise, but if you wanna do it, absolutely go for it, this was so much fun and really made me realise how much I’ve achieved in 4.5 years.

[gladiatorandgladiolus]

I haven’t seen NatM movies in such a long time, but from what I remember they act and remember what their “real life” counterparts acted and remembered, so I’d like to think so. It’d be better if Geralt never actually saw him again post-episode 6, too, so there could still be a lot of tension between them about that as well. And I was thinking that the monster that Geralt took a contract to find and kill was the very same one that’s been slowly “killing” parts of exhibits every night (in other words sucking the magic or whatever out of them so they don’t ever come to life again) and Jaskier’s been leading a sort of resistance against it. Jaskier himself can’t do much because he still has no fighting skills whatsoever, but he’s made friends with other statues that are willing to help him out.

Also, Roach is a statue in Jaskier’s exhibit too. I want a Roach and Geralt reunion. I know that there were different Roaches for the episodes but the one in the exhibit is the one that was with Geralt when he met Jaskier and continued to be with them for the next eleven or so years, you can’t change my mind.

okay. okay. hear me out.

night at the museum geraskier au.

[ainti-pretty]

@all-hail-the-witcher tagged me in the write the first line/lines of your wips so here we go ig

What If You Put Your Bed Next to Mine in Minecraft (Lambert/Aiden streamer au)

“@/SparkyWrites, I will not be doing an uwu gamer voice on stream, that’s only for my onlyfans,” Lambert said, before killing an enderman.

Polish Deli Au

Yennefer sat down on her couch, a glass of wine in her left hand, and her right hand tangled in Renfri’s hair.

Lambert’s Massive and Embarassing Crush (on Geralt as a teen)

It was the end of fall. All the older witchers were to return to Kaer Morhen soon, and the keep was bustling with the chaos of the trainers and young witchers and boys trying to prepare for the long winter.

Manifest Your Own Destiny (Night at the Museum au)

Octavia hated her roommate with a burning passion.

Sad Boy Hours (Geskel)

Before the trials, they had sat on the walls together. They snuck out of dinner to watch the sunset, and had woken up early to watch the sunrise

Geralt listens to Lights Down Low and his vampire boyfriends suffer (Witcher Sandwich College au)

“Geralt, my dear, if I have to hear Trap Queen one more time I’ll have to throw you out the window.”

White Horse (angsty geraskier)

Geralt stood watching the sunset. It was cold in the woods.

im tagging: @it-was-love-to-us @geralt-of-riviass and anyone else who wants to!!!

[futureofthemasses]

d20 Fanfic Prompt Creator

I’ve been trying to get inspiration to write lately and have a bunch of sets of dice just sitting around so I thought hey! let’s make something with this. This uses five different dice (or a random number generator if you don’t have dice) with each one representing a different prompt item. You can use one of them, all of them, or just a few, whatever inspires you! This exact prompt list is meant for me using things I potentially want to write so you can use it exactly the way it is or create one in the same style and exchange it for different ships/settings/whatever.

6 sided die: Ships (choose your own or challenge yourself with what I chose!)

Johnlock - John Watson and Sherlock Holmes

Ineffable husbands - Crowley and Aziraphale

Drarry - Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

Ironstrange - Stephen Strange and Tony Stark

Geraskier - Geralt and Jaskier

Love square - Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste

8 sided die: Setting

Modern/no powers/no magic (change it depending on how it is in canon)

Victorian

Regency

Elizabethian

Future

Crossover (you pick the crossover OR make a list and let the die decide!)

Steampunk

Fantasy

10 sided die: First Line (I used this website and just chose the ones I liked, change the pronouns as needed/wanted)

The entrance to the tunnel was his only way out.

He had waited two years to return it.

The accident wasn’t her fault.

As she stopped to catch her breath, she looked back.

There was a legend about the well in the garden.

He was older than she’d thought he would be.

After ten days of hot weather, she was now sitting there shivering.

The attack was over in seconds.

He could hear everything, but dared not open his eyes.

There was a strange wailing coming from the next room.

12 sided die: Trope

Coffee shop au

High school/college au

Fake dating

Secret royalty/royalty au

Genderswap

Pirate au

There’s Only One Bed

Holiday fic (you pick the holiday OR make a list and let the die decide!)

In Vino Veritas

Accidental Baby Acquisition

Flower shop au

Fairy tale au (you pick the fairy tale OR make a list and let the die decide!)

20 sided die: Prompt (I used a couple of websites generating random prompts or came up with ones I wanted to write)

Character A is seriously injured/ill and character b has to help them/nurse them back to health

My dad is your tutor and I came in and saw you struggling so I helped you and now I’ve replaced my dad and you’re adorable dammit

Characters a and b live together, a is afraid of thunderstorms and b has to help them through one

You slipped and I happened to be walking behind you and you fell into my arms wow you’re really attractive

Character a has lost or gained magical ability (depending on what they are in canon) and character b has to help get their powers back

We got drunk and are trying to make dinner together while also trying not to confess our feelings for each other

We are trapped somewhere alone together (elevator/closet/something relating to the setting or time period) and it leads to love confessions

You run a daycare and I’m a single parent dropping off my kiddo (who LOVES you) but this is the first time we’ve ever met and you’re cute oh no

We teach at the same school and all of our students think we should date but we’re actually already married

Character a is in a park with their pet and it escapes, character b catches it and brings it back

Characters a and b play different instruments in a band/orchestra and character b is always making flirty and/or funny faces to distract character a and character a finally decides to confront them about it

We’re at a party where we are in costume and start having a conversation and wow we are getting on really well but have no idea who each other is under the outfit

Character a’s date is cancelled so character b goes instead to help cheer them up and character a realises this is better than it would have been with the original date

We just met at a con and I am cosplaying as one half of a couple in the fandom we both love and you are cosplaying the other one so everyone wants to get pics of us together

We’re both superheroes and best friends in real life and we’re trying to hide our crushes and secret identities from each other but one of us sees the other transforming out of their costume

Character a is a famous painter and character b is looking at their art in a gallery/museum and talking about how they don’t like it to character a, not knowing they are the artist

Character a works at a zoo/with animals and character b listens to them talk about the animals they care for not because they are interested but because character a is passionate and cute

We’re having our first dance at our wedding reception and you insisted we use this song and when I ask you why you recount the story behind it

Character a is known as a notoriously wicked person/magical being and character b ends up at their house for some reason only to find out that the image is only for show to keep people from bothering character a

We’ve been best friends for ages and I’m your maid of honor/best man for your wedding but I’m in love with you and have to tell you before you get married or I’ll regret it

Like I said, use as many or few of these as you’d like (I’m not sure if it’s possible to use all of them in one story but YOLO)! I’m going to make a video soon showing myself using this method and I’ll share it under the tag “d20 fanfic prompt creator” if you’d like to see it in action.

[childofsolace-write-ups]

I posted 31 times in 2022

26 posts created (84%)

5 posts reblogged (16%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@slash-reblogged-content

@skyeknight-hyperfixations

@frustrated-writer-skyeknight

@skyeknight-hogwarts-adventure

I tagged 31 of my posts in 2022

#the witcher - 6 posts

#geraskier - 5 posts

#dwp - 4 posts

#jim hawkins - 3 posts

#natm - 3 posts

#draft reveal - 3 posts

#troy x ryan - 2 posts

#akhmenrah - 2 posts

#hiccup haddock - 2 posts

#encanto - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#being in a country with typhoons annually and hearing how devastated people are when they lose their homes because of said typhoons

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Random prompt

When they start travelling again, and Ciri is with Yen (once she's actually, completely, gained their trust again), Jaskier complains once that his legs are starting to cramp from all the walking and ask if they can find a camp quickly.

They can't because they saw some Nilfgaardians and Geralt wants to put as much distance as they can.

He does get off his new "Roach" though and sets Jaskier up before mounting once more as well and continuing on.

Jaskier.exe stopped working.

18 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#4

Random prompt

When Geralt gifts Jaskier a new lute as further apology for the whole mountain thing, that's when a random patron comes in and drunkenly praises Jaskier for the last song he heard Jaskier sing from another town and asked if Geralt was the witcher from "Burn Butcher, Burn"

Geralt stares at Jaskier.

Jaskier hugs the lute. "No do overs! You can't take this back! It's a gift, you can't take back a gift!"

Geralt hums and goes "I won't." and then adds "It just made me realize I should get it extra strings for when you... Burn off the use from the current ones." And leaves to do just that; finding new strings.

Jaskier doesn't know how to react after that.

22 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#3

Random prompt

Larry getting his job back eventually just because, and just in time for Jedidiah and Octavius wedding.

As a wedding gift, on the next sunrise after the wedding night, Larry and Nicky worked on making a even tinier figure in the form of a child that the two basically adopt as their kid.

Akh asks him later if he can make a bigger figure for their child.

Larry turns red.

24 notes - Posted February 4, 2022

#2

Random prompt

I have no logic for this prompt but

Larry Daley eventually getting his own statue because the guy he covered for had it done to appreciate him.

When they all come alive at night, the statue doesn't.

Which was odd because supposedly most things in the Museum did because of the tablet.

Larry sees the statue in his visit, it flattered him.

The others are happy when he visits.

They get sad as time go on when they see Larry getting notably older. Especially Akhmenrah.

Eventually, Larry dies as humans do.

And the night after his burial,

Well

The statue of him finally comes to life too.

When Akh finds out, he runs over and kisses him silly.

36 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Draft reveal

HiJack - Brave AU

"C'mon Hic, it's not too late yet." Jack said, flinching a bit as Hiccup snatched the bucket of fishes he was carrying to dump it into Toothless's stall. "you just... Have to really talk to him; how you don't want your marriage partner chosen this way."

"Talk to him? Have you met the guy?"

"Yup," Jack nodded, popping the 'p.' "Gotta say, still the most terrifying moment of my life. Even compared to the first time you convinced me to ride Toothless with you."

Hiccup snorted, returning to stand directly in front of his best friend. Well, best human friend. "Then you understand that listening isn't his strong suit."

"Well, runs in the family." Jack quipped, earning a glare from the brunette. The servant boy cleared his throat, "But I've also seen him with you and your mother; if he realizes how upset this would really make you he would have second thoughts in forcing you into this. Just... Do something to make him really listen. Make a stand, or something."

Hiccup looked thoughtful. 

"My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third!" The brunette intoned, looking over at everyone present at the field. Jack's mouth popped open, pretty certain he didn't have this in mind when advising him the other day. Green eyes stayed a moment longer at his father's, but when it reaches Jack, it was maintained. Even he looked as shell-shocked as everyone else did, "And since Jack can't participate since he's 'not a chief's son' I'm his stand in proxy. If I win, I'm marrying him because I love him!"

Jack turned bright red. In any other situation, he would be elated that Hiccup's liked him all this time. But the utter shock and bubbling up rage Stoick was sporting put a damper to the moment. "Oh Hic... We gotta talk about timing..." Those around him looked towards him. he shrunk back sheepishly. "Yeah, okay... I mean, I consent and reciprocate but for the record, let it be known, I did not tell him to do that."

"HICCUP!" Stoick bellowed with Valka sighing and trying to calm him down. "Get off that dragon and out of that race!" A horn flared as response, and the racers flew off...  including his son. He glared at the man who flared the horn, "GOBBER!"

"... Sorry." The blond responded, looking chagrined. "It was very moving."

See the full post

44 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Statuesque pt. 6

sorry this part is shorter than the rest but the next thing I post for this will be the finale!

---

If Geralt had known that the curse could be broken while he was still frozen during the daylight hours, he would have warned Jaskier.

If he had known that those three little words had thousands of years of power behind them, ready and willing to rip them from each other’s arms, he would have warned Jaskier.

But Geralt hadn’t known. 

---

“Geralt,” Jaskier smiled, running the tips of his fingers down the smooth stone of the statue’s carved cheek and jawline. “If only you could join me in the daylight hours. There’s so much I want to show you. So many things I wish I could watch you experience for the first time. I know it is a sin, but I covet your attention. I yearn for it. Maybe someday I’ll be able to hold you while we watch the sun set together. Until then, though, I suppose it is merely a lovely dream.”

Jaskier sighed mournfully and moved back to his desk to grab the letter opener he used to prick his finger every night. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more minutes but it always took him a bit of time to psych himself up for the blood sacrifice portion of the evening. 

The boisterous young curator looked at the statue posed ever-so-languidly before him and grinned widely. “I’m going to ask to kiss you, soon. I think you might enjoy my company enough and, you know that I- well... I love you, Geralt.”

There was a blinding flash of red light as a howl of inhuman pain rent the air. Geralt collapsed from his pedestal to his knees in shock and pain. He glanced around with a mixture of utter confusion and shock as the last vestiges of sunlight faded beyond the horizon. “B-Before sunset? Jaskier, h-how?” 

He turned to question Jaskier and felt his breath catch in his throat. 

“Jaskier!?”

The young man stood before him, absolutely still. His blue eyes were open but unseeing. His left hand was outstretched in Geralt’s direction and his right was clutching the letter opener to his chest. The gold filigreed letter opener that Jaskier had pierced his tender flesh with night after night to allow Geralt some time to breathe. To live. To exist as he was, as a person, with a friend who cared about him. 

“Say goodbye,” a deep, thunderous voice ordered. Geralt glared around the room but saw no one. “He’s going to be just like you were.”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“He said the words, Geralt,” the voice chuckled. “You’re free from the curse; he’s taking your place.”

Geralt felt his wings melt away behind him, fading to dust in the air. His silk half-chiton was replaced by a pair of comfortable grey joggers and his chest was suddenly covered by a plain green v-neck. 

Jaskier, meanwhile, had been stripped to nothing and wrapped in a pale pink toga. His body walked itself over to the pedestal and calmly manacled itself into place. The warm, soft pink of his skin began fading into a dull, stony grey. Geralt’s eyes stung and his heart bucked wildly in his chest. “What are you doing to him!?”

“He is taking your place, Geralt, and you are free to finish out your lifetime as a human.”

“No! Undo it! He didn’t know that this would happen when he said those things! He’s innocent; undo it!” the demon-now-human begged, falling to his knees. He screamed so loudly and for so long that his throat felt scraped raw by the time he’d finished. “UNDO IT!”

“Alas,” the Hellish voice chuckled, “What’s done is done.”

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Statuesque Pt. 5

I haven’t forgotten about this story, I promise! 

Previous Parts Here

tw: blood, injury, panicked Geralt

Geralt watched, horrified and unable to move, as the apparent thief snuck up behind Jaskier with an odd metal bar held over his head. The young curator only caught a glimpse of his attacker out of the corner of his eye before the bar came crashing down against the top of his skull. He crumpled, the side of his head connecting yet again with the stone edge of Geralt’s podium.

The wed thud terrified the frozen demon, but the blood pouring from Jaskier’s wounds freed him from the spell. He burst to life, snarling and screaming at the thief. He cursed and spat, yanking violently against the chains that kept him held back against the statue’s base. 

“Leave!” he demanded, his voice low and terrifying, “Leave now if you value your life!”

The masked stranger shrieked and bolted from the room, no longer interested in looting Jaskier’s desk or pulling paintings off the wall.

Geralt fell to his knees as soon as the scent of the stranger faded to nothingness, cradling Jaskier’s head in his hand. He pulled the curator into a limp sitting position against his chest, kissing along the cut on his head to close it. He’d never felt such all-consuming panic before. 

He’d never felt so utterly human. 

So helpless. So small. So alone. 

He didn’t know what else he could do to help. He couldn’t reach the phone, chained as he was, and even if he’d been able to reach it he didn’t know which set of numbers would summon aid. All he could do was hold the younger man close to his chest and hum softly into the top of his hair. He’d healed what he could with what little power he still had, but there wasn’t much to do now but wait.

The demon tried to convince himself that he was only worried about Jaskier’s safety for his own sake. If the giddy curator wasn’t there to wake him up and fall in love with him, if Jaskier wasn’t there to say the magic words and switch places with him, then Geralt would lose what was likely his last opportunity at freedom. 

But he knew, deep down, somewhere he was afraid to acknowledge, that he wasn’t doing this for himself at all. His heart wasn’t racing frantically because he feared the loss of his future. His eyes weren’t misty because he wanted freedom from the curse. His hands weren’t smoothing up and down the warm skin of Jaskier’s forearms as he prayed for the boy to live because he was a selfish demon.

No, he was doing those things because he was genuinely concerned about the young human’s well-being.

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

The mortal’s fragile body stirred in his arms and a pair of blue eyes blinked up at him groggily. “G-Geralt?” 

“Jaskier! Are you alright? How do you feel?”

“My head hurts. What happened?”

“Thief.”

“Did they get away with anything!?” the curator gasped. He tried to disentangle himself from Geralt to stand but the demon held firm, wrapping his leathery wings around them both like a cocoon. “Geralt, I have to go check on th-”

“He hit you. You fell. You were wounded and it woke me up. I scared him away and I stopped the bleeding on your head, so you should be fine.”

“Oh, goodness, Geralt, I’m so sorry,” Jaskier struggled to sit up on his own but Geralt’s arms remained wrapped around his waist like bars of iron. “Really, I’ll be alright. You can let me up. I should probably check my desk and see if-”

“Just...let me hold you for a moment, please.”

Jaskier settled. An unfamiliar look clouded his eyes and he nodded, leaning himself comfortably against the demon’s chest and closing his eyes.

“Alright, love. But just for you, because you asked so nicely.”

---

Jaskier got to work eventually, filling out and filing a handful of important transfer documents before beginning to type up the pamphlets for a new exhibit on medieval tapestries. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Geralt said, watching the sun begin to rise through the front window. “See you soon.”

“Sleep well, Geralt,” the curator smiled softly. “Thank you for rescuing me. You really are my hero.”

And if Geralt ran those words through his mind over and over for the following twelve hours as he waited for the mortal’s next shift to start, then nobody had to know except him. 

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Statuesque Pt. 4

Oh no, Geralt is having some second and possibly third thoughts about his original plan. How odd.

Other Parts Found Here

tw: blood mention

---

“I brought you seven different drinks,” Jaskier explained. He was trying to fish a band-aid out of his pocket and talk to Geralt at the same time and things weren’t going well.

“Give it here, mortal,” the demon demanded, gesturing for the curator to show him the injury. Jaskier slowly relinquished the tip of his bloody thumb and watched as Geralt kissed the wound closed again. If that was how he was going to treat all of Jaskier’s ‘good morning, it’s time to break the weird blood sacrifice based curse’ wounds then, well...maybe next time he’d try a little nick on the flat of his palm instead. And maybe make it a little bigger than was necessary. For the drama of it all, if nothing else (definitely not anything else...like feelings).

Stay focused, Jaskier reminded himself. He shook his head to clear it and pulled his hand back to give Geralt one of the many cups he’d carried into the museum with him. “This is my favorite so that’s what you’re trying first. It’s a latte, plain and simple.”

“Hmm. Coffee and milk, right?”

“Yes. And exactly what I need to stay up for these night shifts. Sometimes people like to add flavoring; I’m partial to a good hazelnut or maybe some caramel should the mood strike me. Vanilla is for posers and pumpkin spice is fine but not my cup of coffee, ya dig?”

Geralt took a slow sip of the warm drink and smiled. “It’s very good. I, uh, I dig.”

“Alright, mocha next!”

---

“Oh gods, is this what chocolate has become? Fucking Hells,” Geralt drained the entire cup with a few huge gulps and laughed delightedly when he was finished. “You humans are pretty amazing.”

The demon didn’t miss Jaskier’s blush. Or the way he slowly pulled his bangs out of his eyes and adjusted his posture to seem more confident. “I practice, personally.”

“You practice being amazing?”

“Yes. Otherwise I’ll lose touch and then who will bring you coffee at night or sing horrible One Direction covers while you’re trapped as an unmoving stone, victim to my evil unmerciful whims.”

“Is One Direction the one that goes -” and Geralt hummed a bit of the song Jask sang most often while he organized paperwork and school trip request forms. Jaskier smiled and nodded.

“That’s what makes you beautiful,” he said, winking for good measure. Geralt found it odd and perplexing that he had flushed in response to the mortal boy’s flirting. He found it even more frustrating and odd that the boy noticed and then teased him about it. “Ha! Finally I got you back for all the blushing you’ve made me do last time! That will teach you to make fun of me, Geralt!”

“Go do your paperwork,” the grumpy demon huffed over the top of his hazelnut/toasted marshmallow Frappuccino. “And let me enjoy my first treat in nearly five hundred years.”

“That’s a long time to be alone without One Direction or Starbucks.”

Geralt looked up to make a joke in reply but the sad, apologetic look that shone in Jaskier’s soft blue eyes made him pause. He cares, the angel on Geralt’s shoulder reminded him, having suddenly returned from whatever vacation he’d been on last time. He wants you to be happy. He brought you a treat and tried to make you laugh. He is no ordinary mortal; he is Good.

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong, Geralt?” 

Fuck! He hated how happy the sound of his name in Jaskier’s mouth made him feel. It was sweeter than the chocolate-laced coffee drink. It was sweeter than all the confectionaries of Heaven. It was even sweeter than the angelic choir that sang the Lord to sleep at night. The sound of his name resting on the gentle pink slope of Jaskier’s lips had Geralt nearly in ecstasy. He blinked twice and looked up through his eyelashes at the human, whose heart palpitated in his chest, “Nothing’s wrong, Jask. Just really like this drink.”

The smile Jaskier gave him lit up his heart yet again. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Statuesque Pt. 3

Alright it’s getting a little more interesting...things are changing.

Lemme know what you’re thinking in the comments pretty please?

tw: blood mention

Previous Parts Found Here

---

Geralt blinked awake unexpectedly. He hadn’t been paying attention and therefore hadn’t seen Jaskier approach. 

“Hello?” the curator practically sang, waving his hand in front of the demon’s sensitive eyes. “You awake in there?”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, good. I have questions.”

“Hmm.”

“Very eloquent tonight, I see, Geralt. Charming, as usual.”

“Did you summon me...intentionally?”

“Yes. And I’m sure it won’t be the last time, either. Now, like I said, I have some questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

“You bled for me,” the statue murmured. The statue’s only untethered hand reached out to grasp Jaskier’s. Geralt brought it to his mouth and pressed a burning, slow kiss to the scabbed tip of the human’s finger. When Jaskier pulled it away, mesmerized and blushing wildly, the wound was closed completely. Only a thin line remained where he’d pricked himself with the letter opener from his desk. “I will gladly answer your questions, Jaskier.”

Geralt heard Jaskier’s heart stutter when he said the mortal’s name and couldn’t help but smirk. Perfect. 

“So, I was wondering, what’s...what’s your favorite color? I mean you’ve been alive for centuries and you’ve been in some of the most impressive churches and museums in the world, right? So what painting is your favorite? What’s your favorite color? Why do you like it so much?”

Geralt blinked. That...that wasn’t the line of questioning he’d been expecting at all. He thought Jaskier would be like the rest, curious about the afterlife. Hungry for power. Hungry for forbidden and cursed knowledge. Not - Not a demon statue’s favorite color. He frowned a little, confused as to how he should answer. Jaskier turned back to his desk and began to sort some papers, humming an unfamiliar tune very quietly as he did so.

“Hmm?”

“Take your time to answer; I woke you up first-thing after I clocked in. I figured you needed to sort through a lifetime of experience, so I planned to give you a minute to think it over. We have all night to talk, Geralt. I didn’t mean to be overwhelming and I apologize if that was too many questions at once.”

“You woke me up first-thing?” Geralt asked, feeling dumb for the first time in a millennia. He ignored the rest of the curator’s monologue, focusing only on that one detail. We have all night. He’d given Geralt all night to speak and observe and be alive. 

“Of course!” The bright-eyed mortal turned to face him. “I wouldn’t want to miss a solitary minute of your company! If you ever don’t want me to wake you up again, let me know. Otherwise I rather intended to keep you company on a regular basis.”

“Oh…”

Hmm. Fuck. The only decent human being in a fucking century and I manage to befriend him of all people. Goddamnit. 

“Blue. My favorite color is probably blue, like water.”

Water, and definitely not the shade of your accursedly bright irises.

“Excellent,” Jaskier beamed. “Mine is green, but yellow is a close second. I’m a sucker for a Van Gogh; his yellows are inspired.”

“The style is fascinating but I’m partial to a Monet,” Geralt argued, smiling softly. More softly than he’d intended. More softly than his planned seduction called for. Don’t lose your touch, now. You can get out of here. You can be free. 

“So, is there any way to break your curse? Do your chains have a key?”

“Yes and no,” Geralt lied.

“Alright, shoot.” Jaskier’s arms were crossed over his chest and his butt was pressing against the edge of the desk as he leaned back against it. He looked adorable and so intent. Curious but not greedy. 

“Would you believe me if I told you that Heaven and Hell invented True Love’s Kiss?”

“I might.”

“Well you should. The only way to be free of the curse is true love’s kiss. Second, no. These chains are meant to keep me from leaving the pedestal.”

“Too bad,” Jaskier sighed. “I’d hoped to show you around the rest of the museum. Maybe take you for coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah. Can you like...eat and drink?”

“It will disappear when I turn to stone.” 

“I’ll bring you some coffee  tomorrow, then.”

Geralt felt something strange knock loose in his chest. Something warm and soft that seemed determined to bloom and spread as he watched Jaskier finish sorting his papers. It had reached his fingers and toes by the time they finished discussing impressionism and moved on to Jaskier’s favorite books and Geralt’s favorite eras of history. 

“The Renaissance really was lovely,” he insisted. “But I wasn’t necessarily on board for the entire Enlightenment process. The art wasn’t nearly as good.”

“Jurassic Park is a fucking classic,” Jaskier explained a few long and interesting minutes later, “Jeff Goldblum is one fine piece of Daddy.”

Geralt didn’t need many context clues to understand what that meant. 

The night passed happily and before it seemed entirely possible, that gut-sinking feeling appeared once again. “Fuck. See you tomorrow night, Jaskier.”

“Talk to you tomorrow, Geralt,” the curator tucked a stray white hair back behind the statue’s ear and smiled softly. “I’ll miss you in the meantime.”

Will you? Geralt wanted to ask, honestly curious about the answer. Something odd was happening. Something that was veering him far from the course of his original plan. Will you miss me? Will you think of me in the daylight hours and wish I was there with you? Will I be wishing to be with you? Do I hunger for the sun again, Jaskier? 

Geralt steeled himself and let the stone take him over completely. He had to free himself. Lying about the kiss was the first and easiest step. 

The rest, he realized with a strange and nearly alien twinge of guilt, would be harder.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

“((I promise I’m not horny for geralt of rivia I’m, a lesbian who has chronic art block,, anyway love ur writing keep up the great work!!)” - OP 

Bouncey’s Addition: Holy cow. This is amazing. This is absolutely fantastic. I am actually crying real tears of joy. Thank you for making this beautiful piece! I’m definitely going to post more of this soon!

based on Geralt in my Statuesque series