#top-jaskier-dandelion

[jaskier-more-like-saskier]

The fandom is currently split into

1. Radskier stans who are so happy for Jaskier

2. Those who are fearing the worst and that its gonna crash and burn

[flowerboygeralt]

okay so we have it confirmed that two Jaskiers would fuck but we need to start talking about what would happen if Jaskier and Dandelion were in the same room

[eggcompany]

A Chilly Young Lad Part 3

“I’m not the same little kid you knew Julian.” Geralt said as Jaskier pulled him toward his rented room by the hand. Jaskier had pulled him from the table and toward the stairs up to his room. He quickly locked the door behind them.

“No you are not.” Jaskier said and quickly started stripping Geralt of the armor. This… new… Geralt was so big. There was just so much of him. Big thick muscles, big strong thighs and, gods, his ass. Jaskier wanted to bite and watch the skin turn color. 

 Geralt tried to help but was confused by Jaskier’s comment. Julian was still tall and lean and soft around the middle but he was… big. Scarred. An abomination. 

“I’m not small anymore either. I don’t have soft skin anymore. I don’t just have those little scars…” Geralt said and held Jaskier’s hands when they finally got down to his shirt. Jaskier’s eyes were that glittering blue and had that same passionate desire hiding behind them. 

“No. No you’re not the same thin little thing I found in the snow. You’re… big and strong and battered and you have fucking stubble and Gods, Geralt, you’re so hot.” Jaskier said and finished by flicking his head the small little space needed to press his lips onto Geralt’s. He stepped closer and pressed his hips up flat against the witcher’s, successfully pressing his erection into the divot between the witcher’s crotch and thigh. 

Jaskier pulled back and laughed and moved his hands under the dark shirt. He had to hold back a moan at the feeling of bold prominent bulges and dips of his abs. 

“Still a terrible kisser. We spent a week ravenging each other all those years ago… you may not look the same but you feel the same.” Jaskier said and kissed Geralt again. Geralt opened his mouth and let Jaskier lick into his mouth. His hands still at his sides but tensing into fists. 

“You still open your mouth the same way.” Jaskier said and pulled back and dove back in and licked around his mouth. He pulled back and pulled the shirt up over his head. “You taste the same.” Jaskier said and glanced down. He did let out a small moan at what he saw. Prominent abs that looked so perfect he wanted to lick and kiss and oh his chest… Big, thick, plush looking pecs with the same cute little pink nipples. Jaskier wanted to see if they bounced...

 The bard used one thumb to flick one of his nipples which caused Geralt to sigh and press his chest forward. “You still have sensitive little nipples.” He said against Geralt’s neck as he ran his tongue from the base of his neck up to his earlobe. 

Jaskier touches him. Everywhere. He ran his hands up and down the now broad and bulking back, the scar tissue lashed and lined every which way.  He pressed himself against his chest and stomach. He reached down to squeeze his ass. Geralt whined when Jaskier sucked lightly on his left nipple and finally let his hands wander to sit on Jaskier’s hips. 

“Julian… my blood mo-” Geralt tries to huff. 

“Moves slow, but if I touch you, you’ll like it.” Jaskier finishes for him and unlaces the black trousers. Jaskier falls to his knees and looks up at Geralt. 

“I know Geralt. You left a mark on my soul dear Witcher, a silly slow heart won’t scare me off. Fangs didn’t. Claws didn’t. The hair didn’t. Even when I was but a young being. I’m a man now Geralt, more or less. I’ve been in the world. And I wanna make it disappear around you.” Jaskier said as he pulled the tight pants off along with his socks. He undid and pulled down the underclothes and instantly took the perfect pale pink cock into his mouth. Geralt let out a loud groan and his legs shook slightly. 

Jaskier pulled back and stroked him slowly. He smiled up at Geralt. He took in all the new… everything. There were so many scars. He went from smooth dense little muscles into big bulging muscles and slopes. And the hair… Grey hair that covered his chest and around his perfect cock and on his thigh, oh gods his thighs. Jaskier would have to write ballads about these beautiful thighs. Milky white with what looked like a bite scarring around it. 

“Julian… Not fair, you're still dressed.” Geralt huffed and backed away from the bard. Jaskier smiled and stood up. He walked forward and put his hands on the plump pecs and shoved. Geralt didn’t go back onto the bed. Geralt looked down at his hands and back at him in a blank way. ‘ Poor thing. Not so playful now.’ Jaskier thought to himself. So instead he kissed Geralt again and when he pulled away he sucked Geralt’s tongue as he went. 

“Wanna lay down for me? Your eyes got all big and round. They’re really so cute.” Jaskier whispered and kissed the end of Geralt’s nose.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah I’ll lay down. Julian, you still look the sa-” Geralt said and Jaskier pulled his doublette and chemise off. Geralt stopped once his chest was exposed. He stared at what he saw. Broader shoulders, muscular arms, and the hair. Thick coarse dark brown hair that covered the entirety of Jaskier’s chest. 

“I look the what?” Jaskier asked as he stripped down to his aqua green silk underclothes. He walked over to his few bags and dug through them. He returned to the bed with a small jar. Geralt just looked at him and felt his cock throb. Though his heartbeat was slow he’s never gotten this hard this fast, he was nearly half way there. 

“You look… good. Healthy.” Geralt said dumbly and kept staring at all the hair on Julian’s body. It crept up over his underclothes in a trail that Geralt wanted to sniff and lick. And the obvious muscle that was hiding under a plush layer of fat on his stomach. 

Jaskier lifted up the witcher’s knees and lifted them up and spread them. He looked down at Geralt with heat in his eyes. He scooted so he was kneeling between the plush yet salivatingly strong thighs. He ran his hands up and down the outsides of his thighs and hummed. 

“Yeah? You look like you wanna do something with your hands. Ya know, I always really liked your hands. Big, warm, scratchy but in a nice way.” Jaskier said and grabbed his wrist and placed it on his chest. The motion caused Geralt to sit up. Geralt couldn’t help but groan and run his hands all over Jaskier’s chest with both of his hands. Jaskier smiled and bit his lip and Geralt’s hands moved around. 

“Ah, I knew it. You can touch. You can touch anywhere you want.” Jaskier told him and reached down to cradle and palm at his cock. He seemed surprised and grasped him. He jerked the almost fully hard cock slowly and smiled. 

“You got hard so fast…” Jaskier said and Geralt groaned and nodded. He ran his nails from where they were threading through the thickest of the hair between his pecs down to his hairy stomach and down to his waist band. 

“Can… Can I take them off? Julian I want it. I want you to do like you did. So… perfect. Please be sweet to me.” Geralt said and pulled on the waist of the underclothes. He looked so… broken in a way. His eyes were back to sharp lines instead of doey and big and round. He seemed so nervous. Jaskier hated it. 

“Of course, my love. I will always be sweet to you. You are just but a flower. Delicate and beautiful.” Jaskier said and kicked his underclothes off and bent to kiss from his knee up his inner thigh and his hip. Jaskier kissed the red tip of his cock and then laid kisses up the middle of his stomach. He stopped to kiss a few scars along the way and lick up a long scar that looked like a sword mark. Geralt panted and shivered; he groaned when Jaskier licked over his nipple and then sucked on it for a moment. He rolled and rubbed on the opposite bud until he moved up to lick up the column of his throat. 

“I’m not a flower.” Geralt grumbled. Jaskier was leaning over him, Geralt could feel the heat of the other man’s cock on his hip. Jaskier sucked lightly on his earlobe and then whispered to him. 

“You are my flower. Now that you’re nice and big, you’ll never get rid of me. Promises with monsters should never be broken, my darling. Now, relax and let me love on you, my sweet.” Jaskier whispered and caught Geralt’s lips again. Geralt shivered and nodded. He breathed and sealed his lips to Jaskier’s. 

Jaskier pulled back and knelt back and looked down at the body below him. Geralt’s eyes were growing wider and rounder by the second. His cheeks were almost pink, his hair was loose around his head like a halo, his cock was hot and red over his warm balls. Jaskier runs his hands up and down the insides of Geralt’s thighs. 

“You know I never got different slick. I still use that sticky fucking jelly stuff…” Jaskier chuckled and opened the jar. 

Some things never change...

<- Last Chapter

[ao3topshipsbracket]

Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - Round 2 Side 2

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[destinationtoast]

Have you ever done an analysis of which fandoms are most dominated by a single ship?

I hadn't done so before. I just took a quick pass at doing so, but only among the biggest fandoms on AO3 as of Jan 2024 (ones with over 10K public works at that time). I sorted them by the size of their biggest ship relative to the size of the fandom. This gives us a bunch of very big fandoms with a high % of works tagged with a particular ship:

The raw data used to make this graph, including the corresponding biggest ships, is available in a spreadsheet here, or at the end of this post.

A few notes:

This is based on January 2024 data. Some things may have changed!

Not all these works are necessarily about these ships. Especially in the cases where the ships are canon, they may often be tagged as background ships.

There are undoubtedly many smaller AO3 fandoms that have higher percentages devoted to the top ship.

I removed some highly overlapping fandoms (e.g., Good Omens book fandom).

This is AO3 data only, and (as always!) AO3 does not represent fandom overall. In particular, ship popularity tends to vary A LOT by archive/platform. See some past cross-platform shipping comparisons from 2019 (comparing het vs. slash vs. gen on Wattpad/FFN/AO3), and 2014 (comparing popular ships from HP, SPN, and Sherlock on AO3/FFN). One highlight:

Raw data:

Fandom | Top relationship | % tagged with most common ship

Shameless (US) | Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich | 92.5%

Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF) | Dan Howell/Phil Lester | 92.1%

Good Omens (TV) | Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) | 83.8%

9-1-1 (TV) | Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) | 79.2%

Hannibal (TV) | Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter | 75.6%

Shadowhunters (TV) | Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood | 75.1%

All For The Game - Nora Sakavic | Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard | 75.0%

Inception (2010) | Arthur/Eames (Inception) | 74.0%

The Old Guard (Movie 2020) | Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova | 72.2%

Hawaii Five-0 (2010) | Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams | 71.9%

The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare | Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood | 71.2%

IT (Movies - Muschietti) | Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier | 71.1%

陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF | Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean | 70.9%

X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) | Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier | 69.6%

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) | Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov | 66.3%

Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF | Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki | 66.0%

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) | Adora/Catra (She-Ra) | 63.9%

Deadpool - All Media Types | Peter Parker/Wade Wilson | 63.6%

The Witcher (TV) | Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion | 63.1%

Our Flag Means Death (TV) | Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet | 63.0%

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 38

Jaskier has kept a secret for years. The ring with dandelions carved into it that he wears every second of every day is the only thing keeping him from turning into ash. He sleeps with a lovely woman one night, desperately trying to move on from Geralt (it doesn't work, he is still very much in love with his best friend) only to awake in the morning and find- FUCK She stole his ring! That conniving little-! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What does he do!? He races to the mirror and it confirms his worst fear. The glamour the ring gives him is gone. He can't see his reflection. He reaches a hand up to his mouth and feels his fangs. No- Nonono! Then his worst fucking nightmare ON TOP of his worst nightmare happens. He hears the stomping footsteps of a witcher approaching their room. Godsdamn it all. He hears the doorknob jiggle and.. Alright, he'll be the first to admit it, he panics. "DON'T COME IN, GERALT" The doorknob jiggling pauses. "Jaskier? Are you alright?" "Y- YES! Perfectly peachy! Don't come in!" Jaskier rushes around the room, pacing in panicked circles like a caged beast. He was a caged beast. He reaches to close the curtains of the only window in the room and like an idiot, he fumbles in place and ends up with his hand in the direct sunlight. He shrieks in pain and holds his hand to his chest. Geralt, scenting agony and hearing Jaskier yell, barges in without another moment of thought. Only to see Jaskier scrambling away from him in fear. In all his years of knowing Jaskier, he has NEVER been afraid of him. It physically pains Geralt to see it now. He doesn't understand why he wasn't allowed in. There's no lover of Jaskier's hiding in a corner embarrassed at being caught, Jaskier isn't indecent or anything, so why-? Then he looks at Jaskier, truly looks at him, and sees his blue eyes are glowing, and his mouth - Parted open as he pants - reveals fangs. Geralt's eyes dart to Jaskier's neck and it's confirmed. The worst part of it all, is the way Jaskier's eyes keep glancing between the door out of the room, and Geralt's silver sword. Geralt is infuriated. Not only did the woman Jaskier take to bed last night turn Jaskier into a vampire, but she also made Jaskier fear Geralt because of it. When Geralt says he isn't going to harm (let alone KILL like Jaskier had feared) Jaskier for the twentieth time, Jaskier finally believes him, and begs him to help him track the woman down. Geralt is intent on killing the vampire that ruined poor young human Jaskier's life. Jaskier is intent on getting his human-glamour, sunlight-immunity-enchantment ring back from this human he slept with, so he can go back to pretending he's human, like he has been doing for the past hundred or so years.

[mirkwoodest]

Sometimes people will reblog my Tolkien name translation post and say something like "but people don't actually translate names by meaning" when like. Yeah, they do.

There are four ways to handle a name when translating works:

1. Don't do anything. Leave it exactly as it is.

Jean Valjean in Les Miserables in the original French, Jean Valjean in the English translation.

2. Transliterate. Change the alphabet or script, but that's all.

Анна Каренина in Russian becomes Anna Karenina in English.

3. Replace it with a similar name in the language you are translating into (When translating into English, this is Anglicizing)

For some reason off the top of my head I can only think of actual saints like Jean in French becoming Joan in English, Domingo in Spanish becoming Dominic in English, etc.

4. Translate the name so that the meaning is preservered.

Jaskier in the Witcher in the original Polish becomes Dandelion in English.

There are also some in-between names, such as Mumintrollet in Swedish becoming Moomintroll in English, which is a combination of 3 and 4.

[thedemonofcat]

Just going to put out there that even though it's never been said, nothing will convince me that Jaskier is fully human.

Like I know him, not age could be passed off as a continuity error. Except it's brought up in the books.

To quote: "Dandelion, you are 40, you look like you are 30, you think you are 20, and you behave like you are 10".

Plus, it's also brought up that he's mistaken for an elf quite often. On top of all of that want to know what the name Juilan means

It's mean Youthful

Even his name is a comment on Jaskier, not ageing.

In the end, Jaskier is most likely either part elf or maybe he somehow becomes immortal. I like to lean towards the idea of Jaskier being part fae. Also have the headcanon that since they are both nobility somewhere along the lines, Jaskier and Ciri are something along the lines of distance cousins, which could make Jaskier have a bit of elder blood in him, but there are too many factors in place to consider him fully human

[fangirleaconmigo]

I've been going through some of your posts about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books recently because... well I'm back in my book/game phase I guess and I really wanted to know if there are any other Dandelion friendships you like from the books and why? Like him and Zoltan or with the other Hansa etc? [Personally I'm a big fan of what little we see of him with Regis and it always makes me weepy that he wrote a biography about him in the games and fondly remarks abt him smelling like herbs all the time]

Awww yayy thanks for spending some time on the ol blog. I absolutely love this question. I don't get to talk enough about Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, and his relationship with Dandelion (for the newbies, that is Jaskier's name in the books) is so lovely.

Dandelion and Friendships

For those who are just joining us, Tea is talking about my series about Geralt and Dandelion's friendship in the books.

I have also written posts about Dandelion's friendships with Ciri and Zoltan:

Dandelion and Ciri

Dandelion and Zoltan

And for this post, I'll focus on Regis and Dandelion's friendship, which I absolutely love.

Dandelion and Regis Friendship (books)

What really strikes me about Regis and Dandelion, is just how patient and kind Regis is with Dandelion. Sometimes it is almost like he’s dealing with a child he cares about. Considering Regis’s age (over four centuries old), Dandelion (approx in his thirties when they meet) IS a child. 

On top of that, Dandy’s personality is rife with traits often associated with kids:

insatiable curiosity to the point where he endangers his own life, (when they go into the forest or sea, Geralt has to essentially, follow right behind him like you would a toddler),

hyper enthusiasm about every discovery he makes, (he whispers in awe when he sees mandrake for the first time, that’s just how he reacts to everything new)

his inability to censor himself or stop asking questions even when everyone else wants him to shut up (he will ask until he understands, no matter the social cues happening)

the way he will act incredibly transparent and awkward while thinking he is being subtle and smooth

Perhaps that is why Regis seems to be so indulgent of him. And somehow their personalities just fit naturally.

Regis’s most annoying trait is to lecture people at length like a professor and cut people off who are asking a question, since he is too eager to answer it. The vampire loves to hold forth on a topic.

Dandelion’s annoying trait (one of many, bless, we know he can't keep it in his pants either) is to ask questions incessantly. In that way, they really kind of fit together. 

Geralt loses patience when Dandelion is being socially inappropriate by asking too many questions. Geralt really values discretion and manners.

Regis is more willing to spend time explaining things and to open up.

Early in the hansa's time together, (before he manages to surprise folks several times over) Dandelion is often seen as the one who is in way over his head. Everyone else is a warrior or a soldier. Dandelion is the soft one. To add to the indignity, Geralt is angry at him during Baptism of Fire because Dandelion keeps forcing him to make friends (well, to ask for help)

Yet Regis, the new guy, is the one who always makes sure Dandelion isn't embarrassed or ashamed.

Here’s a few examples.

When Dandelion is given a bloody head wound by an arrow, the poet is howling and shrieking. He thinks he's dead already. He is not a stoic man. It is played comedically, but Geralt is also legitimately terrified that he will lose Dandelion. That bit is not played comedically.

But given the circumstances, the rest of them could be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the poet's dramatics.

But Regis (who is treating his wounds as the resident barber surgeon) does not.

Regis speaks to him so soothingly, and kindly. (I am omitting the Geralt dramz because I will get off topic lol)

Dandelion groaned and took a sharp intake of breath....

“I’ll put in a few stitches,” Regis said...”Be brave, Dandelion.”

Dandelion was brave.

“Almost done here,” Regis said, setting about bandaging the victim’s head. “Don’t you worry, Dandelion, you’ll be right as rain. The wound’s just right for a poet, Dandelion. You’ll look like a war hero, with a proud bandage around you head, and the hearts of the maidens looking at you will melt like wax. Yes, a truly poetic wound....”

And when it is revealed that Regis is a vampire, and Dandelion is afraid of him, Regis is incredibly patient and kind about the whole thing. He does not take offense. Geralt does! (Ironic, considering Geralt ran Regis off, but Geralt, bless, is dealing with a clusterfuck of feelings about the vampire and everything else going on in his life.)

But yes, after Geralt tells Dandelion about Regis, Dandelion is scared, and wants to seek reassurance. But the poet (unbeknownst to him it seems) is awkward and bad at it. He tries to bring up the issue with the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

Dandelion...deciding to clear up the uncertainty..began as soon as they set off. With his usual tact.

(I like that. His usual tact. Meaning, zero tact lmaoooooo.)

“Milva,” he suddenly called as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire as they were riding, sneaking a glance at the vampire. “...I fancy eating a hunk of real meat for a change! How about you, Regis?”

Yeah. Real subtle Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon?’ the vampire said, lifting his head from the horse’s neck. 

“Meat!” the poet repeated emphatically. “...fancy some fresh meat?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And blood. Would you like some fresh blood?”

“Blood?” Regis asked, swallowing. “No. I’ll decline the blood. But if you have a taste for some, feel free.”

Geralt, Milva and Cahir observed an awkward, sepulchral silence.

I love that. Awkward sepulchral silence. Dandelion causes a lot of those. But Regis does not dismiss him or laugh. He reassures him.

“I know what this is about, Dandelion,” Regis said slowly, “And let me reassure you. I’m a vampire, but I don’t drink blood.”

The silence became as heavy as lead. But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent.

But Dandelion wouldn’t have been Dandelion if he had remained silent. (sorry I am laughing every other line at this part)

“You must have misunderstood me,” he said, seemingly lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t drink blood,” Regis interrupted. “...I gave it up.”

Dandelion doesn’t know what that means and keeps pestering Regis to explain. Geralt is embarrassed and tells Dandy to shut up.

However, Regis opens up around the camp fire that night. He tells his life story, and says he hasn’t drank blood in fifty years. Dandelion is incredulous. 

“Not at all?” Dandelion said, and stuttered. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Not at all? Never? But...?”

Geralt is embarrassed again and shuts him down again. Regis, by contrast, is patient and defends Dandelion.

“I beg your pardon,” the poet grunted.

“Don’t apologize,” the vampire said placatingly, “And Geralt, don’t chasten him. I understand his curiosity.”

Baptism of Fire 291-295

That's right. Don't chasten him Geralt.

Regis and Dandelion also just have a wonderful dynamic of picking on each other.

Dandelion teases Regis about his long ass name.

And Regis has a great time teasing Dandelion lovingly. In one scene, Geralt and Regis team up to pick on Dandelion and the secretive way he treats his writing. Dandelion has stolen some paper and pencil from a Lyrian military convoy and is writing whenever they make camp, but gets testy whenever anyone gets near him or looks at his manuscript.

Geralt is good-naturedly giving Dandelion a hard time and Regis jumps in with such adorable relish. (Also, in this scene, we find out that Regis actually named Dandelion's memoirs)

"Indeed," the witcher joined in...."You've become devilishly touchy, Dandelion. One cannot fail to notice that it is somehow connected to the paper which you have recently begun to deface with a bit of lead while we camp." “It’s true,” Regis agreed, “our minstrel has become touchy, not to say secretive, discreet, and loving of solitude recently. Oh no, having witnesses when performing his natural needs doesn't bother him at all...His shameful secrecy and oversensitivity to being watched extends solely to his scribbled notes. Is, perhaps, a poem being written in our presence? A rhapsody? And epic? A romance? A canzone?”

He's like, you don't care who sees you piss and shit, but oh this you care about. lol. Tell us about the poem. But Geralt objects.

“No,” Geralt retorted...”I know him. It can’t be verse, because he’s not cursing, mumbling, or counting the syllables on his fingers. He’s writing in silence, so it must be prose.”

“Prose!” The vampire flashed his pointed fangs - which he really tried not to do. “A novel perhaps? Or an essay? A morality play? Dammit, Dandelion! Don’t torture us so! Reveal what you are writing?”

Dandelion says it is a memoir called Fifty Years of Poetry. Regis says that A Half Century of Poetry sounds better.

“Thanks, Regis, Something constructive at last.”

P 88 -90 The Tower of the Swallow

I admit I'm such a sucker (hehe no pun intended) for whenever Regis's fangs are mentioned, whether he is hiding them, baring them, or unselfconsciously showing them during a warm, silly moment with his friends. (Sobs, I love this vampire, seriously I need an intervention)

Regis also comforts Dandelion openly when the poet is doubting his courage or fitness for a task.

Later in the book, Geralt volunteers for a bloody job/violence for hire that terrifies Dandelion, so the poet protests the plan. Geralt insists he’ll do it alone.

But no! He has a hansa now! He won't be alone! Angoulême volunteers to go. Cahir says he’s coming with as well. Then Milva insists she is coming.

Dandelion freezes.

It would be like the LOTR ‘and my bow and my axe’ yadda yadda scene, but if there was one person left and when it got to them, everyone turned around and looked and they are just standing there frozen like....motherfuck this is scary idk idk wtf do I do. And the way this next paragraph is written, it pleases me.

Dandelion...was evidently struggling with his thoughts. And the thoughts were winning.

lmaooo

And Regis jumps in "kindly." He shows solidarity with Dandelion, and takes the heat by calling himself a coward.

“Stop meditating, poet,” Regis said kindly. For there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re even less cut out to participate in a bloody swordfight than I am. We weren’t taught to carve up our neighbors with a blade. Furthermore...furthermore..,” he raised shining eyes towards Geralt and Milva, “I’m...a coward,” he confessed curtly.

They keep arguing amongst themselves because Geralt believes they have been spied on. And Regis is just...always soft with Dandelion. When Dandelion starts guessing about who is spying on them, and is beginning to ramble incorrectly,

“You’re mistaken, Dandelion,” Regis softly interjected.

The Tower of the Swallow p 182

It's Regis's gentleness that just fuckn kills me. That's always the character that's gonna get me right between the ribs with a shank. (Metaphorically, Regis is too gentle for that)the one that lives in a horror filled, violent, cruel world and is still just kind, even to the loud, awkward, soft, obnoxious poet who is in over his head and is afraid you'll bite him in his sleep and who shrieks when he is wounded.

Geralt and Dandelion are so sassy and old/married with each other, deeply, proudly loving in actions, but always bickering.

It's sweet to see Dandelion have a friendship like the one he has with Regis.

It is so nice to hear that the games continued his love of Regis. (I haven't played them, so I get my info about them from you guys XD)

So thanks again for following me and for the ask! I hope I've done ok answering. I also love Dandy's dynamic with Nenneke and ofc Yen, but I'll stop there.

Hope your week goes really well. x

[shinyasahalo]

Top 100 AO3 Ships (All) May 1, 2024

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(M/M) James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers (Captain America/Marvel) 66,307 fics

(GQ/GQ) Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens TV) 64,542 fics

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[readingnreccing]

Geralt Discovers His Prostate by Bourneblack

the witcher | explicit | 9k | geraskier | complete | porn with feelings 

“A prostitute put a finger up my ass,” Geralt says. Jaskier’s brain stutters to a stop, the swiftly begins anew. “That is… quite the mental image. How was, uh, that?” “It felt good.” OR Geralt learns Jaskier sometimes has sex with men, and can't stop thinking about the process. Also, drowners covered in sewage water.

Geralt hears that Jaskier also has sex with men. And gets curious. How does it actually work? How can it be pleasurable? So he does what needs to be done and decide to ask a prostitute about it, and like the title says, discovers his prostate. But that doesn't feel like it's enough, because it's Jaskier! So, it's actually super sweet in a Geralt kind of way, Geralt and Jaskier talk. And the smut is super hot!

Author’s tags: Sexuality Crisis, Mutual Pining, Feelings Realization, Kink Discovery, power bottom geralt, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Service Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Humor, Fluff, Smut, Sits somewhere in the show canon, but idk where, Geralt discovers his prostate, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion is kinda along for the ride, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, unbeta'd we die like mne, Jaskier just wants to braid his Witcher's hair

Remember to leave feedback to the author! <3   @bourneblack

[bambirex]

Sunshine For The Sunshine

Pairing: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier/Dandelion, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, Cirilla of Cintra, Lambert, Eskel, Coen, Vesemir

Additional tags: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, soft Jaskier, soft Geralt of Rivia, soft Yennefer of Vengerberg, snippets, poly Jaskier, everyone loves Jaskier, found family, past injury, handfeeding, Jaskier getting spoiled the way he deserves, no actual plot

Word count: 2,127

Chapters: 5/5

Summary: Jaskier being loved, spoiled and taken care of by everyone the way he deserves.

Author's notes: There's no plot here, these are just short fluffy chapters that are not connected at all. The new season is treating Jaskier a lot better already with people finally caring for him more, but it's still not enough for me so here we go, have some snippets of Jaskier being coddled like a kitten.

Read on Ao3

*

All Jaskier did was sneeze about two times before a giant mug of steaming cocoa was pushed into his hands.

He shot a questioning look up at Geralt, who was standing above him with several blankets in hand, looking deeply concerned.

“Okay, I am not that sick,” Jaskier chuckled. His voice was a little raspy as his throat itched. It was the beginning of an annoying cold, which sucked, but Geralt acted as if he suffered from some horrible, incurable disease. The witcher has been fussing around him like a mother hen in the past few days, from the moment Jaskier sniffled for the first time.

“You need to warm up,” Geralt told him softly. He draped the blankets over Jaskier, gently rubbing his shoulders to warm him. “I don’t want your condition to get worse.”

“My condition,” Jaskier snorted, “I just have a sore throat.”

“I just want you to be okay, Jask,” Geralt sat next to him on the bed. He pressed a kiss to the side of Jaskier’s head. Jaskier hid his smile in his mug.

Geralt continued to hold him as Jaskier took the first sip of his warm beverage, his arms wrapped around him protectively, shielding him from any discomfort. Jaskier let out a small sound of bliss, allowing himself to burrow deeper into Geralt’s hug.

“This is really nice,” Jaskier smiled as he rested his head against Geralt’s chest. He felt his eyes becoming droopy, both from the sickness and from how content and loved he felt. Geralt kissed the top of his head this time, nuzzling him like a large and very affectionate cat.

“I can get you some medicine from the town,” Geralt said. He pressed the back of his hand against Jaskier’s forehead to check his temperature. “You may not have a fever now, but I’m worried you will. How’s your head? Does it hurt? Your stomach?”

“I am getting overwhelmed with all this care,” Jaskier mused. He couldn’t wipe the satisfied grin off his face. “When did you become so gentle?”

Geralt hummed, pulling Jaskier closer until he sat halfway on the witcher’s lap. Geralt supported Jaskier’s hand that held the cup with his own, making sure he wouldn’t spill the sweet cocoa. With his other hand, he gently tilted Jaskier’s head towards him with his fingers hooked under his chin. Jaskier’s heart fluttered at the genuine kindness in Geralt’s eyes.

“I’ve met someone who changed me,” Geralt replied, and suddenly Jaskier’s throat didn’t ache because of the impending illness, but because of the way his whole heart leapt into it.

For the first time in his life, he found himself unable to say anything, so instead, he cocooned himself in Geralt’s embrace, his body and soul healing slowly.

**

Jaskier’s hand was okay now, but sometimes he felt those tiny phantom pains, like needles piercing his skin. It made him want to scratch and rub at his tingling palms, made him want to pull off dead skin and poke at the now healed, but forever deeply marred flesh.

It was hard to control his hand when a sensation like this flared up in his hands. His fingers trembled, refusing to cooperate when he tried to frame his eyes with kohl. Jaskier swore under his breath, frustrated tears welling up in his eyes.

He yelped when suddenly he felt a touch on his back. He whipped around to see Yennefer standing behind him.

“Gods above, witch,” Jaskier huffed, “you’ll kill me one day.”

“Maybe,” Yennefer shrugged. Her eyes fell on Jaskier’s hands, and a small smile twitched at her lips. It wasn’t a look of pity on her face, but one of genuine care – a kindness that Jaskier used to think did not exist in her. “Let me help you, first.”

“I’m good,” Jaskier waved a dismissive hand, which still shook treatorously. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can,” Yennefer replied softly. She reached out her hand, waiting patiently, not crossing any boundaries, instead letting Jaskier decide for himself. “Just not now. Please, allow me, Jaskier.”

Jaskier bit his lip. He hated feeling so useless, but that was not what Yennefer implied; Jaskier could see it in her eyes, could hear it in her voice. She offered Jaskier a choice, wanting to take care of him genuinely but also respecting his autonomy at the same time.

With a sigh, Jaskier handed Yennefer the kohl. Yennefer gave him a small smile before she seated herself on his lap, gently tilting Jaskier’s face upwards with her hand. Jaskier felt his cheeks go warm under her ministrations as she so carefully brushed the eyeliner over his skin. She was careful not to poke him in the eye, working on his face with such precision as if Jaskier was one of her secret magic elixirs that required a lot of focus.

His lashes fluttered as Yennefer fixed a small smudge, wiping it off with her thumb gently before she went on to fill in the gap with the tip of the kohl.

Jaskier swallowed thickly as Yennefer pulled back, caressing his cheek gently.

“Pretty,” she said with genuine awe, before she leaned in to kiss him on the lips sweetly.

**

“No utensils? Thought this was a civilized place.”

Radovid chuckled as he lifted the tiny bite of whatever-it-was off Jaskier’s plate. He held it up close to his face, making Jaskier frown in confusion.

“Open up,” Radovid told him, his voice both sweet and commanding, and Jaskier, though hesitantly, did it, still not very sure of what was going on. The food was slipped between his lips gently, and he couldn’t help but let out a small gasp when the taste exploded on his tongue- savory, and just a little spicy.

“This is good,” he admitted. He barely had time to swallow before he was offered another bite. Jaskier’s cheeks flushed at the smirk that Radovid gave him.

“I can feed myself, you know.”

“I don’t want you to,” Radovid replied simply. He gave Jaskier his typical eyebrow raise that implied there was no place for an argument. “I am planning on spoiling you rotten, my sweet thing.”

Now, Jaskier was used to praises and seductive words, but somehow, the way Radovid said it- playful, but still sincere, flirty but with so much care, like he was truly intent on handfeeding Jaskier an entire course, made his stomach tingle with warmth. He bashfully opened his mouth for another bite, feeling a pleasant shiver run down his spine when Radovid wiped a bit of sauce off his chin with his thumb.

A cup of wine was held to his lips next, making Jaskier laugh.

“I can’t even drink alone?”

“What did I say about spoiling you?”

“Right,” Jaskier gave in with a sigh, but his lips curled into a pleased grin anyway. He let himself relax as Radovid held the rim of the cup against his lips, making him drink the sweet wine gently. It warmed Jaskier’s throat and stomach pleasantly.

He was offered tiny desserts next, and he had to admit, slipping into this feeling was easier than he thought. He was used to taking care of other people: lovers, friends, family, and now he was receiving the same care, being fed like a hungry little baby bird and showered with the affection he always craved.

Occasionally, between bites, Radovid caressed his cheek and whispered something sweet to him that made Jaskier nearly choke on his food, too overwhelmed all of a sudden. He closed his eyes in bliss, letting the taste of a strawberry fill his mouth, while love and gratitude filled his heart.

**

No one has ever insisted so aggressively that Jaskier shouldn’t lift a finger. He was usually nagged about making himself useful at last, and the change was very surprising.

He genuinely wanted to help out: Kaer Morhen was huge. There was a lot to clean up, and a lot of hungry mouths to feed, but he actually wasn’t allowed to do anything. He made an offended noise at the back of his throat when Lambert all but tore the mop out of his hand.

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbled, “no need.”

“You think I can’t use a mop?” Jaskier huffed. “I am not such a spoiled brat.”

“That’s not why,” Lambert chuckled, gently patting Jaskier on the head. “You should rest, songbird.”

“It’s already too generous you’re letting me winter here, I should help you out, at least!”

“We’re not letting you stay because we want to make you play maiden,” Eskel told him with a smile. He, much like the rest of the Kaer Morhen wolves, kept insisting he should rest, and rest, and then rest some more. It was actually him, that practically shoved Jaskier out of the kitchen because he dared try and help with cutting up the vegetables.

“We’re letting you stay, because you mean a lot to Geralt. And us.”

“Alright, but…” Jaskier trailed off, not very sure how to process what he’s just heard. Him? Meaning a lot to a horde of supernatural warriors?

“Well, at least let me organize the books in the library…”

“Already done,” Coen grinned at him. “I did it last night.”

“But… but I said I would…”

“Yeah, well, now you don’t have to,” Coen gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “The only thing you should focus on is getting some rest and composing some lovely songs. And keeping on making us happy with your presence.”

Now Jaskier was sure he was actually just imagining things, because there was no way Coen just implied that his mere presence brought such joy to the witchers – but when he looked at them, he saw Lambert grinning, and that sincere spark in Eskel’s eyes. Jaskier walked out of the kitchen in disbelief.

He tried getting himself some tasks in the stalls, where Vesemir flat out told him that if he didn’t go back inside from the freezing cold, he would ask Geralt to kick his ass.

“Why does no one want me to help?” Jaskier groaned. Vesemir chuckled softly.

“You already help, Jaskier,” he said, his voice warmer than what Jaskier has ever heard from him. “You already help an awful lot.”

Jaskier didn’t even try to ask what he meant. He stumbled back inside the keep, his heart swelling with so many emotions inside his chest.

**

The last note rang out, and the crowd erupted into cheers. The clapping was so loud, it was almost deafening. Jaskier grinned widely before he took a bow, the ecstasy of a well-done performance strumming in his veins.

“That’s my uncle!” Ciri yelled, her cheeks pink with excitement. She stood on top of a table, ignoring Yennefer’s pleas to get off. “He belongs to us!”

Jaskier laughed in disbelief. A couple decades ago, he played in this exact tavern. He was met with disdain then, was pelted with bread and tomatoes, and no one has wanted anything to do with him. And now, the crowd was going wild, singing him praises and practically bowing before him as he made his way over to the table in the corner. At that table, sat the three most important people in his life, people who weren’t always the nicest to him, but who loved him with all their hearts now. People who were proud to declare him a part of their family.

“That was incredible, Jaskier,” Geralt said with a smile. No more fillingless pie, just incredible. Jaskier sighed happily, gladly taking the gentle shoulder squeeze from Geralt.

“Our bard,” Yennefer said with a grin, gently bopping Jaskier on the nose. Jaskier stuck his tongue out at her playfully, but the loud beating of his heart exposed him. Ciri all but jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms tight around his neck as she hugged him tight.

“You have to teach me to play, one day,” she said excitedly, still squeezing Jaskier. “How are you so talented?”

“Well, having such a lovely audience always helps,” Jaskier replied earnestly. He gently ruffled Ciri’s hair. “Besides, you’re already too powerful. What would happen if we also trained you to be a bard?”

“She would be like you,” Yennefer said softly. She gently brushed a sweaty lock out of Jaskier’s face. “And that’s not even such a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Geralt chimed in. He gently stroked Jaskier’s back, making him melt into his touch. “So, where do you want to go celebrate?”

“Wherever you go,” Jaskier replied, his grin nearly splitting his face, the same way his heart nearly burst through his chest. “I wanna celebrate with my family.”

“Sounds lovely,” Yennefer grinned. “Our favorite poet is choosing us!”

Ciri hugged him again, and Jaskier blinked against the happy tears in his eyes.

Favorite. Incredible. Loved.

[littlestsnicket]

tagged by @gellavonhamster (thank you :) )

Rules: Go to your (current/main) AO3 account and find the following:

What ratings do you write most of your fics under?

General Audiences (81), so that is the overwhelming majority. idk. i think i factor in the source material to how i rate things. like if i wrote asoue fic with the same amount of sex as the sexy witcher fic i've written i probably would have rated it explicit instead of mature. or netflix witcher fic that contains the word "fuck" often still gets a general audience tag.

What are your top three fandoms?

The Witcher -- All Media Types (31)

A Series of Unfortunate Events -- Lemony Snicket (26)

The Witcher (TV) -- 25

(Community (TV) is next with 21, since there's duplicate witcher tags)

I do write a lot of drabbles so I end up having quite a few works

What is the top character you write about?

Jaskier (21)

What are your top three pairings?

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion (13)

Annie Edison & Abed Nadir (7)

Beatrice Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket (5)

(and then platonic yennskier also has 5)

(how have i written that much platonic geraskier? probably because i read so much romance about them and then immediately go "ok, but what if they were platonic soulmates (maybe with benefits)?!?")

What are the top three additional tags?

Drabble (41)

Character Study (6)

Canonical Character Death (5)

Does any of this surprise you?

yeah, what the fuck even is that? uh... i should probably get better at tagging my fic. (also i'm pretty sure there are more drabbles than that. yeah... i just checked, there's 75. and that's works that contain exactly 100 words, not counting the many double drabbles or drabble sequences i posted as one work).

tagging: @astaldis, @kuwdora, @mossterious, @spoonietimelordy, @olivia-calidamn

[eggcompany]

A Chilly Young Lad Part 2

“You know, you look cute sleeping.” Julian said as he continued to twirl and play with a certain strand on Geralt’s hair. The witcher blinked open and squinted at him. Julian bent to kiss him again. It was short and chaste but loving. 

“Cute with your face all scrunched up too. Sit up and I’ll go fetch us dinner. You must be starved.” Julian said and got out of the bed. He was still naked as day as he walked around to find his sleep pants and a loose chemise. 

Geralt sat up and looked down at himself. He felt disheveled but everything was still there. Leg, Leg, foot, foot, prick, guts, hand, hand, arm, arm, head. Yet that’s all of it. Geralt listed off in his head as he stretched. He yawned and Julian stared at him. 

“I’ll brush your hair while you eat. You look a bit like a hag.” Julian snickered and Geralt scowled at him. Jaskier blew him a kiss and hopped out the door. 

Geralt blinked a bit more and looked around. There was stuff everywhere… didn’t look like a rich person’s room at all. There were papers and notebooks covering a small table, clothes scattered the floor and hung out of the open cupboard. Geralt stood up and stretched and cracked his back. Maybe Julian’s clothes would fit? They were about the same size, lest Geralt be a bit taller. He’d just had the human’s cock inside of him, this shouldn't feel like a panty raid. 

He walked over to the cupboard where fine dublettes and trousers were scattered. Much too fancy. He opened a drawer and ah plain white chemises. He grabbed out and pulled it over his head. It was a bit loose around the middle and shoulders. 

He opened the next drawer which he first thought to be full of fancy attire but upon closer inspection was full of silky underclothes. He picked a pair up to examine them and they looked… like something whores wear. He put them down and closed the drawer and opened the bottom one. He sighed as he found a few pairs of sleep pants, soft with tie up tops. He grabbed a pair and held them up. He would need to tie them but they would be comfortable. 

He was tying them up when the door opened again. 

“Yes Master Julian, you can just leave them for when we come up in the morning.” A woman's voice rang out alongside Julian’s. Geralt felt frozen, standing there with sex hair wearing another boy’s clothes? He panicked and stood flat against the wall next to the cupboard. He held his breath and listened. 

“Thank you for the help! I’ll get him and we can just eat over there so he doesn’t need to navigate the disaster of..my...room… Geralt? Geralt are you in here?” Julian called out as he walked into the room Geralt didn’t dare move a muscle until he heard a second door close and a woman bid him a good night. He stepped forward and Julian smiled and sighed. 

“I thought you’d hopped out the window. Oh you found some clothes, good! I think poor Liz is scarred just from seeing your back when you first arrived. Come now, the hearth is lit and there’s plenty of ale.” Julian said and grasped Geralt’s hand. He had such oddly callused hands. His palms were soft and warm but his fingers were tough and scratchy. 

Julian led him to the room next to his, the bed was dressed and indeed the small hearth was lit. There was a small table that mirrored the one Julian’s room. There were two bowls of something steaming, a large loaf of bread, and two mugs of ale. Geralt rushed over and sat down and tore off a large piece of the bread. He moaned as the warm rich bread hit his tongue. Julian sat down across from him giggling. 

“It’s rude to orgasm at the table, Witcher.” He said and took a smaller piece of bread and dipped it into the thick white soup. There were what looked like pieces of shredded chicken and a dough? Boiled dough? Geralt looked at it as he ate the large bite of bread. 

“It’s chicken in thick soup with strips of dough. You’ll like it. It’s rich and has some nice spices.” Julian explained as he got another piece of bread. Geralt looked at him and nodded. He ripped off another large chunk of bread and submerged it into the bowl. He brought the dripping piece up to his mouth. He took a big bite and sunk down in his chair moaning loudly, his eyes closing as he chewed. He opened his eyes and started to eat quickly, leaning over his bowl proactively. Julian placed his hand on Geralt’s forearm. 

“Hey, no one’s going to take it away. You’ll get a stomach ache if you keep eating like that. We could go eat in the kitchen if you’d like. You could get more of anything you want. There’s plenty of food. Slow down.” Julian told him and Geralt stared up at his eyes. Clear and truthful eyes. Geralt nodded and swallowed what he had.

“‘S good food. Warm. Nice. I haven’t had chicken in a long time. Or really any home made food. Or anything that actually tastes good…” Geralt mumbled and took a long drink of the warm ale. He felt warm and slow and safe. His stomach was thanking him and he felt like he could think better. 

“What do you eat? While you travel, I mean.” Julian asked. 

They ended up talking for hours. Eating the warm rich soup and drinking two pitchers of ale, they became relaxed and loose. 

After they finished eating (and Julian’s four trips to fetch more soup and bread for his guest), they moved back to the viscount’s bedroom. Julian showed Geralt his lute and pages and pages of songs and ballads that he had written or was working on. Geralt showed him the books and bestiary and told him about the battles he’s had since he left Kaer Morhen. They spoke of friends and life and mundane little things that Geralt never got to talk about. They sat together facing each other criss-cross with their knees touching. Geralt liked it. He liked being able to watch up close the way Julian’s mouth moved, his tongue against his teeth, his smile, the dramatic way spoke was so easy to watch. 

“You know Geralt, you have such a beautiful face. I think my favorite bit is your nose. It’s cute.” Julian said and crawled to sit in the basket of the witcher’s legs. Geralt looked at him with wide alcohol blown eyes. 

“I like your face too.” He said while looking dumbly at the human’s face. Julian laughed, a rich real laugh that made Geralt feel warm in his chest. Julian threw his arms over Geralt’s shoulders and rested his forehead against the other’s.

“So eloquent, practically poetry.” Julian teased and opened his eyes to look at Geralt but was guilty when he saw the monster hunter’s face. 

Geralt was pouting, eyebrows scrunched together, lips pouted out, eyes downcast, his shoulders hunched under Julian’s arms. Julian pulled back and cradled his face. 

“I was joking! I was just joking. I love the way you communicate. You… you’re so cute. Like a little bunny. With fangs… and claws… and the body of a wolf… I think it’s charming. I like all of you.” Julian said and kept his eyes on Geralt’s. The older boy looked at him with a worried expression. 

“Do you really? Cause I think you’re like my favorite human. You’re so warm and nice and you smell really really good like really good like I could lick you all over… wait um… humans don’t lick each other do they…” Geralt said and Julian knew the face of self scolding. Julian ran his thumb over the witcher’s unfairly soft bottom lip. Julian considered it… he thought a witcher could smell something inhuman let alone taste. Though the idea of Geralt tasting him did make him a bit hotter. 

“You can, if you want to.” Julian says quietly before sealing their lips. Geralt moaned and wrapped his arms around Julian’s hips, pulling him closer. Julian smiled as the other boy opened his mouth, but he pulled away. Geralt made a disgruntled noise and looked at Julian’s kiss bruised lips. 

“We have so much time. The storm is still raging, you can explore me if you want. Taste me…” Julian whispered as Geralt ran his hands up under the boy’s shirt. 

The night ended with Julian, nude and exhausted, sleeping with a content clothed witcher on his chest. Geralt had chosen to thoroughly lick, nip, and suck Julian’s body (Enthusiastically around his crotch and strangely his armpits, Julian was sure his soul left via orgasm.) 

Each day brought something new. Geralt cleaning his armor, Julian watching in pure rapture. Geralt throwing himself down by the fire much like a dog flopping over to sleep, Julian sitting in a rocking chair and rocking himself by pushing off Geralt's stomach with his feet. Julian introducing Geralt to the two servant women who smile but look incredibly nervous, Geralt hides behind him the entire time. Geralt tends to Roach and Julian befriends her automatically, she pushes Geralt into the snow. Julian and Geralt stay in bed all day talking and such. 

Julian learned that Geralt liked- no loved riding him.  He also learned that Geralt’s hair flies up when he really throws himself down onto his cock. Geralt learns that Julian will tolerate being fucked but rather be balls deep into a certain witcher. 

Each day they touched each other, explored each other, kissed, nipped, and licked each other. At night they bathed together and had dinner together and joined in the evenings. Finally after a few nights the talking started. The quiet ‘ Take me with you when you leave. I want to run away. We could do this every night, even in the wild we could couple in the brush. It’d be so exciting…’ Julian would whisper in Geralt’s ear as he rocked back and forth in the tight clasp on Geralt’s body.

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

[ao3topshipsbracket]

Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - Round 1 Side 2

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[bastardofmothman]

If I love you then I love you too much

Tags: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Dreams and Nightmares, the reincarnation au no one asked for but I really really really wanted, Alive Aiden, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Alternate Universe - Modern setting

...          

Lambert wakes up sweating, panting, tears drying on his face, on the verge of whining but he won’t admit that.

Another restless night in the making as he plays over again experiencing a loss so great his chest continues to ache in wakefulness. He wishes he could remember the name of the asshole that keeps dying in his dreams so he had someone to blame instead of thinking about black curls and green eyes and feeling like he wants to cry.

Lambert lays back down, willing the mistiness in his eyes to dry down, preparing to spend the rest of the night staring at his ceiling trying to convince his lungs that just because a figment of his subconscious isn’t breathing doesn’t mean he can’t.

Lambert almost managed to convince himself he doesn’t see the eerily familiar face staring at him from the end of the tasting bar as he serves the other patrons, desperately hoping Eskel will take care of him so Lambert doesn’t have to get any closer to those green eyes. Green eyes he knows have flecks of gold in them. Won’t have to wonder how soft those curls are, how they’d look ruffled. Won’t have to remember exactly how that warm skin looks after death.

Eskel doesn’t even seem to notice him. That or he’s ignoring him because he sees how intently the man is staring at Lambert. Which is probably exactly what he’s doing because Eskel is a hopeless fucking romantic and Geralt, the useless fuck, isn’t here because his partners insisted he needed a day off to spend with them and his daughter. If Lambert didn’t know for sure Ciri was at a friend’s house he’d be less pissed off about it but he knows the lecture Vesimir would have given him if he’d denied Geralt a night off on one of the busiest nights of the week.

He should have known better than to hire his brothers after the massive layoffs. Fuck loyalty if they’re both not going to be available and doing their jobs when he needs them. (He doesn’t really think that, in fact he’s sure he would get along with strangers less but it’s still annoying as shit and he’s supposed to be the annoying one, not the responsible one with his own distillery and a thriving customer base.)

The man is still staring.

Lambert finally cracks, he’s served everyone on his end of the bar and is out of excuses. He sees the man sit up and flush when he realizes Lambert is heading his way.

“What can I get for you?” He asks gruffly as he turns red from being stared at so openly.

“Can I get two house flights for our table?” The man says a little too breathlessly. Why is he so flustered? Lambert is the one who’s been having dreams about loving him so much he wanted to die with him.

“Coming right up.” Lambert turns away to prepare the flights, the man turns and heads back to his table.

When he delivers the flights the man is still staring but Lambert turns away and heads back to the bar. He refuses to acknowledge the ache in his chest or the blush still staining the tips of his ears.

…

He keeps seeing him, the man with the green eyes, dark curls, and a feral grin. 

One time he gets rather impressively tipsy and leans across the empty bar to stage whisper “I know this is the worst pick up line but I swear I’ve seen you in my dreams.” He starts to reach towards where Lambert’s hand is resting on the counter top as he says this.

Lambert pulls away, “I’m calling you a cab.” He states before walking away. It takes forever to get there, what with how rare a callable cab line is nowadays and all the while the man sits there and grins at him.

He comes in the next week, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry about last time, I did mean it though. Name’s Aiden by the way.” Lambert can’t help it, can’t keep looking at him, at Aiden. He storms away.

…

Why can’t he just leave well enough alone?! Is there a brain in there under that dark halo of curls? There doesn’t seem to be because no matter how many times Lambert refuses to continue the line of conversation, refuses to take the bait, refuses to acknowledge how flustered he gets under the other man’s gaze, Aiden just. Won’t. Leave. Him. Alone.

The worst part? Lambert doesn’t even want him to. When he finally lets up and starts responding, Aiden's eyes light up  and he smiles like Lambert’s given him a gift, even when Lambert can’t resist being a snarky, sarcastic asshole. Luckily Aiden can dish out as well as he can take it. Neither of them bring up the dreams again. At least, not for a while.

…

Lambert has to ruin every good thing that happens to him, and like it or not Aiden’s company has gone and turned into a good thing. He craves it, he looks forward to seeing Aiden’s tall, lanky form walk in through the door, even catches himself missing him when Aiden doesn’t come in on his regular night a few times.

Lambert ruins every good thing that happens to him. He’s sure this will be no different.

…

“Do you remember when I said I’d meant it, seeing you before?” Aiden asks one day.

Lambert absolutely remembers. Remembers it vividly. Remembers dreaming about holding Aiden’s dead body in his arms and screaming to a raining sky with his entire being vividly too.

“Not a clue, I don’t pride myself on remembering the ramblings of drunks.” He lies through his teeth, resolutely wiping at the counter and refusing to meet Aiden’s eyes, hoping it plays off like him not caring instead of avoiding it.

“Hey!” Aiden responds indignantly, having taken the bait. “I’ll have you know that I am not a drunk, I am simply a connoisseur of fine liquors such as those served at this establishment which, by the way, are swiftly draining my bank account.”

“Not my fault your favorite is the one that took me the longest to perfect and takes the longest to age.” Lambert says offhandedly while wiping out glasses still warm but damp from the back. It takes him a minute to realize Aiden is staring at him again, god he’s always fucking staring at Lambert with this soft look in his eyes and that stupid attractive smile on his face. Except not this time, this time he looks a little surprised.

“Wait…you created this?” Oh…whoops. Lambert guesses he forgot to mention this is all his at some point, but he doesn’t pride himself on presenting as the owner, he works here, he puts in the effort. He just also perfects every single product his distillery makes. “You’re the reason I can taste heaven on earth?! Oh I want to live inside your brain.” Lambert has to bite his tongue to keep from telling Aiden that he already does, and it doesn’t end well for him most times. There are the rare good dreams, the hazy beautiful ones where they’re together and relaxed and fucked out and happy. Those dreams almost make the risk seem worth it, but Lambert has experience with making high risk decisions and despite his thriving distillery he knows how they end. It isn’t worth it. It’s not worth having to feel that pain again.

Aiden's too busy gushing to circle back around to his original thought. Lambert hopes he never does.

…

Lambert rarely gets the things he hopes for. He hadn't even hoped for his distillery to stay open. Just resolutely kept working at it all the while berating himself for putting this much effort in.

The only thing he's hoped for lately is that Aiden keeps coming back and never fucking brings up dreams about them again. Lambert can't bear the idea that it wasn't just him. Can't bear the idea of repeating how it ends.

“I’ve seen you in my dreams, you know, even before we met.” Aiden ventures on another day, completely removing the question aspect from his statement, likely having figured out Lambert’s misdirection from last time. 

“Aww, you don’t have to lie to tell me I’m pretty.” Lambert bluffs, trying for a different type of misdirection, the fun one that ends in them blatantly flirting back and forth but never goes anywhere because he just can’t let it. This is enough, it has to be.

“Lamb c’mon, I’m trying to be serious here, don’t you think that means something?”

“It means you’re using current information to fill in the memory of your dreams is what it fucking means.”

“I know you saw me staring the first time I came in here.”

Aiden has him there. Backed into a corner.

“Aiden, I can't talk about them.”

“Have you had dreams about me too?” Dreams, nightmares, and everything in between, but Lambert isn’t ready, he doesn’t think he ever will be. He knows it’ll all be over if he opens his mouth.

“If I answer you will you drop it?”

“For now.” That’s the best Aiden is going to give him and he knows it.

“Yes.” Lambert whispers.

“The plot thickens. So anyway as I was saying I think America made a big mistake with horses, like, they look like plastic toys, what is the purpose?” Aiden has this talent for going directly backwards in a conversation seemingly without a tell that he’s interested in another topic. Lambert notices how his nose crinkles and his eyebrows lift but says nothing while Aiden goes off on his frankly terrifying amount of knowledge of horse breeding practices.

…

Aiden brings up the topic a few more times over the next months, pulls bits and pieces out of Lambert because Lambert just can’t give him a complete no. 

"So what has happened in your dreams?" Aiden ventures one day.

"A lot, usually there's rain." And blood, lots of pooling blood.

"Oooh, I don't have a lot of ones with rain. Unless your dour mood counts when it's raining on my parade. Don't worry, I've always been good at taking it in stride. I think you only ever really upset me in one, but we had fantastic make up sex so I won't hold it against you." Aiden doesn't even blink at being so forward but Lambert can see the soft flush to his face and knows it took more than Aiden's letting on to bring it up. He isn't sure if it's the reference to the fight in their dreams or the reportedly amazing make up sex but Lambert decides to throw him a bone. And flirt a little.

"We have pretty fantastic non-make up sex too."

"Laaaamb, you flatterer." They're both blushing like teenagers instead of adult men.

"Leave it alone, Aid." Lambert states, effectively cutting this off from where it's spiraling, and the conversation moves onto less treacherous topics.

And then one day it comes to a head and the moment it’s all ruined is at Lambert’s doorstep and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

…

Aiden follows him outside, “You can’t.” He states, voice filled with anger, “You can’t, you can’t, you never fucking can why won’t you just tell me! I know you have feelings for me and you know I have feelings for you and we both know about the dreams so why can’t you talk to me?!” He yells.

“Because I just fucking can’t, okay!” Lambert shouts, it echos off the neighboring buildings.

“But why not!? Why can’t you just tell me why you have that fucking stick up your ass about this? I just want to talk and you keep pushing me away every time I get close to you.” 

Lambert takes a deep breath, he can’t do this, he can’t fucking do this and he can feel traitorous tears in his eyes and he takes another deep breath ready to start the screaming match again-

“I can’t go through losing you again.” It comes out soft and broken, his voice cracking. “I can’t fucking do it again.”

Aiden takes a cautious step forward, and then another. Slowly getting into Lambert’s space one step at a time. He reaches out and his hands shake as he brings long fingers carefully up to Lambert’s face and gently directs Lambert to look at him. 

“Lambert I’m not going anywhere, they’re just dreams, nothing’s happened to me in them-”

“Yes it did!” Lambert snaps and pulls away, crossing his arms across his chest to create some distance, “I had to lose you over and over and fucking over again before we even met. I had to watch you die before I even knew you. You say you know how much you fucking cared about me before we met, so did I! But I had to lose you and I just- I can’t fucking do it again Aiden.”

Lambert’s breathing heavily now, he can’t make the words stop, can’t make the tears at the edges of his eyes stay put, “I don’t know if I’d survive it this time, I’m not even sure I did last time because I never had any dreams about what happened after, only about losing you and not wanting to stay in this shitty world anymore when the best damn thing to ever happen in my life was gone!” Lambert sobs on the last word. He doesn’t know if knowing will save Aiden this time but he has to try, the only thing he knows is that last time they were in each other’s lives and maybe if he can change that he can save Aiden maybe he can–

Aiden is holding him. Gently running his hands up and down Lambert’s back until Lambert uncoils his arms and hugs Aiden back, and then Aiden grips him tightly and starts swaying them back and forth. He’s trying so hard to be gentle but Lambert can feel the tension in how tight Aiden is holding on, like he’s afraid of losing something right now.

“Does the risk of it happening again really mean we don’t deserve to try and be happy? That they don’t deserve us trying again?” Aiden whispers, sounding not far from the edge of tears himself.

“Then it’s all up to destiny and she’s a stubborn bitch-tit of a phenomenon.” Lambert mutters, Aiden chuckles at him, still gripping him tightly like he’s afraid if he lets go Lambert will be gone and they’ll never come back together again.

“Maybe destiny was trying to keep them apart and we’re just too stubborn, did you ever think of that?”

“That’s not the encouragement you think it is.”

“Maybe not.”

"Aiden, I–" Lambert pauses, tries to gulp his heart down from his throat back to where it belongs. "I'm scared. I want you so much and I'm scared of it."

"Me too, wanna be scared together?"

Lambert thinks for a moment. "Yeah," he says cautiously, "yeah I think I do.

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