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kuwdora · 7 days

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@perseruna I LISTENED!! I MANIFESTED!!

the lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch geralt/jaskier/yennefer ~6k, explicit. d/s, sexual roleplay, banter, erotic massage. more tags on ao3.

Trouble is afoot and it will be a long evening for the White Knight.

The White Knight has been in the Queen’s service for more than half his life. He currently stands beside her royal majesty in the throne room, bearing witness to the thorn in the Queen’s side. A thorn he will be called upon to remove.

Whether he was pushing miscreants from the kingdom with his blade, doling out punishments on behalf of the Queen, or sating her majesty’s sexual desires, the White Knight fulfilled his responsibilities every day of his life. However such consistency was not common in all of the Queen's loyal subjects.

This spy in particular, a faun with broad shoulders and a nervous smile, a tufted little goatee and soft, folded ears. He has a penchant for distracting the castle guards with jovial questions about their favorite snacks. He has often derailed the White Knight's retinue from their duties with gossip from the latest winter festival.

Mr. Tammus had come into the Queen’s service only a few short years ago. The White Knight had been on assignment looking for allies to enlist to the Queen’s service. He’d ventured into the western mountains, seeking the brawn of a clan of minotaurs. It was there that he discovered Mr. Tammus beguiling the clan leader and her grandfather with a musical jig. Mr. Tammus had accidentally broken a curse that had fouled their young with human-features. Mr. Tammus could have asked for anything from the grateful clan but instead requested only shelter and their undivided attention while he performed his latest song.

Upon witnessing Mr. Tammus’ charm on the minotaurs firsthand, the White Knight knew the faun would prove useful for the Queen’s service.

Tammus indeed proved to be a valuable asset with eyes and ears in the community and borderlands, able to strike up friendships all due to his cherub-like face and penchant for outlandish tales that could enchant anyone with ears. He found secrets and gossip in the unlikeliest of places that was useful to the Queen and her royal guard.

Yet there are times where the faun’s flightiness has tested the Queen's patience.

Which is why Mr. Tammus is currently on his knees and bowing, snowmelt slipping from his hair onto the floor. read on ao3

#this screencap has taken up primary residence in my yennskier inspo folder since july #i love them all so much i just had to play #enjoy the softness and banter and sex per my usual geraskefer fare #i feel so hapless and flaily trying to write fic posts with excerpts or summaries and all that. but!! at least i finished the fic omg #geraskefer #twn #jaskier #geralt #yennefer #yennskier

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pokeberry5 · 1 year

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for the outfit prompts, yennefer in 1D or jaskier in 1C?

(1D and 1C) this was the first thing i thought of:

#i feel like this has already been done but I had to #yennskier #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #the witcher #prompts #sart #THANK YOU for letting me draw them!!#also!! i realized too late that 1d was a skirt and I had already committed

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toapoet · 11 months

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i know geralt is like token grumpy guy but what if he was also like…the “free dad hugs” guy at pride. ??

#he just gets clobbered by so many people needing dad hugs #I feel like he would be hesitant at first #but he probably gives like #the best hugs ever #and he’ll never admit to it #cause he has an image to maintain #imagine just a big ol warm squishy dad hug from someone who looks like them #or even eskel could do it #anyway #I think Jaskier would be so proud of him #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #the witcher #toapoet

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thelostgirl21 · 7 months

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Please join me, as we all take a moment to appreciate that The Witcher Season 3's soundtrack has a track that's actually called...

#Radovid #Jaskier #Radskier #The Witcher #My Posts #He's a Spoon #I can only imagine someone that doesn't watch the show taking a look at the titles...#Coming across a track called “He's a Spoon”#And wondering what the fuck is actually going on in that show...#There's a character named Jaskier...#He probably has ADHD...#And his brain keeps making weird associations...#That's all you really need to know really!#“He's a Spoon” makes perfect sense within context!#It's actually quite a brilliant analogy when you think about it!#And in the French version #He's a little spoon I feel like it must be said!#For reasons!

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autistic-echo · 1 year

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the thing i have the biggest beef with in the witcher netflix is the fact that the writers seem to. like. not like jaskier. like they make geralt be a dick to him “i’m not your friend” and then have geralt turn around and be friendly and affectionate with loads of other characters. moussack “old friend”, that flashback with eskel, “you’re important to me, triss” why can’t we get this same energy with jaskier. begging for a proper apology in season 3 that jaskier doesn’t have to basically fish out of geralt my dude deserves better

#i get that geralt is not good at communicating and was busy because of plot shit in s2 #but jaskier and geralt have know each other for over 20 years #jaskier has spent most of his adult life with geralt #(iirc jaskier was 18-20 ish when they met)#so for fucks sake pls show that geralt values jaskier and jaskiers friendship #please for the love of fuck #pls have geralt properly admit he was wrong and a dick #and stop having like almost every single character act like he’s annoying inconvenience #why do i always end up loving the comic relief character who is actually profoundly sad that the writers don’t seem to actually like #the witcher #jaskier #the witcher jaskier #geraskier #only sort of because i’m more pissed off at their whole dynamic from a platonic perspective #queer platonic geraskier #the way i feel about them cannot be explained by simple words like platonic or romantic #the witcher netflix

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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

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When Julian Alfred Pankratz Viscount had cast off his name to become Jaskier, it had been the easiest thing in the world. That name had never truly been his and Jaskier didn’t feel the loss in the slightest. At least not for that part of his name. He had no problem leaving behind the name of his father and his father’s father. Neither had he ever felt any kinship to the family name. He shed no tear for the loss of his title.

But there was one thing that left him feeling hollow.

Julian had been of Lettenhove. Jaskier…Jaskier was of nowhere.

When the director of Oxenfurt Academy handed him his diploma, his heart fluttered like a hummingbird and his face split into a smile so bright it was rivalling the sun. Some people in the audience muttered to each other, some snorted at how ridiculously excited he was to be a graduate. But what did Jaskier care what they thought? They didn’t understand. They didn’t see the diploma that pronounced him a graduate of Oxenfurt.

Jaskier of Oxenfurt kept that name for a couple of months. He wore it with pride, announcing to the world where he had been made into who he was now.

Except, as time passed, it seemed that being of Oxenfurt wasn’t anything to be proud of anymore. What had earned him impressed looks and compliments at first quickly made people sneer at him.

“Look at that bard,” they fake-whispered as he announced his next set, “still hasn’t found a benefactor to keep him.” Jaskier tried not to let those whispers bother him. Until the day he heard the name Valdo Marx, Troubador of Cidaris.

That day, Jaskier lost the of Oxenfurt part of his name.

He kept searching for a new place that might want him enough to become part of his identity, but nothing seemed to fit. Until one day, in a run-down tavern he met Geralt. Geralt of Rivia. The Butcher of Blaviken.

How unfair for him to have two places that he belonged to. Witchers were travellers, but apparently, this one was good at forming bonds with places. Maybe, if Jaskier stayed at his side for long enough, he could learn how to do that too.

He was right, in a way. After being almost killed by elves and having his entire perception of the world turned on its head, Jaskier certainly felt like he had been created anew. If he hadn’t gotten rid of the of Oxenfurt part of his name already out of shame, he would have done so now. That place had not prepared him for the real world, had fed him lies and propaganda.

Briefly, he toyed with the thought of becoming Jaskier of he Valley of Flowers, but as soon as the thought had formed, he tossed it aside. Dol Blathanna wasn’t his, didn’t belong to anyone. Dol Blathanna was home of the Elves and Jaskier didn’t belong.

Geralt, it turned out, didn’t know how to belong either. Jaskier sang a song and suddenly, he wasn’t Geralt of Rivia anymore, neither was he the Butcher of Blaviken. He was the White Wolf. The White Wold of nowhere, just as Jaskier was a bard of nowhere.

Secretly, Jaskier liked how they both were without one place that called them home.

And, in a hidden part of himself, he liked to think of Geralt as The White Wolf of his Songs.

Spring turned into summer. Green grass turned brown and leaves fell from the trees. And then, within the blink of an eye, winter was nearing and Geralt announced that their paths had to seperate now, if he wanted to make it home in time. Jaskier’s heart sank and his smile brightened into a lie.

Ah. So Geralt had a home after all.

He wasn’t the White Wolf of Nowhere. He was a Wolf of Kaer Morhen. Jaskier smiled and he clapped Geralt on the back and he lied through his teeth about having to go home for the winter as well.

With time, Jaskier forgot that he wasn’t of anywhere. It didn’t matter anymore. He had the whole continent, what did he need a single place to call home? He had Geralt and he had the Path and that was more than any surname could give him.

Until he didn't have Geralt anymore and the Path became simply a path for him and he had no idea where it lead, other than down a mountain.

A part of Jaskier died that day and he knew that somehow, impossibly he had to put the pieces back together. He had to create himself anew for the second time. Maybe he should become Jaskier of the Mountains. But the mountains already belonged to King Niedamir and to the bitter memory gnawing at Jaskier’s heart. He would rather be of nowhere than of this damned place, where his heart had been shattered by the one person he had thought be belonged to.

#when he comes to Kaer Morhen he has little hope of becoming part of it #one time Eskel hands him a blanket saying that no bard of Kaer Morhen should go cold #Lambert hands him a mug of ale saying that no friend of Geralt's should have to endure his presence sober #Geralt doesn't call him his but Jaskier likes to think that it's there when he looks at him sometimes when he thinks Jaskier doesn't notice #But it doesn't feel right to Jaskier #he had spent so long searching for where he could belong that now that people tell him it feels too easy #it isn't until decades upon dacades later that Jaskier finally finds a place where he belongs #people tell stories of him #long after his own hands have started shaking too much to write songs anymore and his voice had thinned too much to sing #he's Jaskier #people say #the bard who travelled further than any other #the bard belonging to the Continent #the Bard of Legend #my writing #the witcher #witcher #jaskier #geralt #julian alfred pankratz #i just had a seminar about Walther von der Vogelweide and Hartmann von Aue and that one guy von Eschenbach #and it got me thinking about names #how Ciri is of Cintra #and Geralt of Rivia #and Yennefer of Vengerberg #and Jaskier is just Jaskier #anyway #nothing like a medieval literature seminar to get to to write one shots again

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wren-of-the-woods · 2 years

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The way Her Sweet Kiss comes on and I am immediately consumed by a wave of emotion--

Jaskier and Joey Batey are far too good at their jobs.

#longing and heartache indeed #it is like two minutes long it has no right to make me feel so many things!!#her sweet kiss #jaskier #joey batey #the witcher #sidenote but why is burn butcher burn only like 40 seconds longer than her sweet kiss #WHY IS THE GOLDEN ONE LONGER THAN BURN BUTCHER BURN #THAT'S DEEPLY BEWILDERING #anyway that's completley irrelevant to the post and i'll stop rambling now #wren talks

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sacred-algae · 3 months

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At least once a week I think about the fact that when about to rescue Yennefer from her stupid ideas, and Jaskier tries to stop him, Geralt says:

“She saved your life. I can’t let her die.”

It was never about Yennefer.

#geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #Jaskier was so hurt at the prospect that Geralt cared about her instantly #when he has been trying to feel like anything less than a burden for years #but the fact that Geralt says this…#just sayin’

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spoonietimelordy · 10 months

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Something I really appreciate in s3 is how naturally the distinction between sexual, romantic, intellectual and alterous attractions was shown. Perfect exemple that you don't have to turn your characters into dictionaries to clearly convey different aspects of queerness.

Jaskier's relationship with Vespula, Radovid and Geralt are all showing different kinds of relationships and attractions. His relationships with Vespula is very much on the sexual attractions side while his relationships with Radovid is a mixed of sexual and romantic attractions which both stems from intellectual attraction. And then you've got Geralt which is a previously romantic/sexual attraction turned into an alterous one, and it's not seen as being a lesser kind of attraction, just a different one.

And all of this is not told to us but shown.

#charlie is rambling #thanks joey #my explaination is not 7k long but i hope it's complete enough #yes after having thought about it a lot i do think the show is trying to tell us that Jaskier's feelings for geralt have shifted #Vespula say that she has never seen jaskier having a crush because she meet him after his came to therm with his feelings for geralt #how do i know thoee feeling were ounce romantic? the song + radovid responding to it by telling jaskier that geralt is lucky to have him #also Joey's interview about how their friendship has shifted from jaskier running after geralt to now being about mutual trust adn respect #anyway #the witcher meta

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0dde11eth · 2 years

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Jaskier: "I'm by the cloud that looks like a lion"

Geralt: "Be more specific"

Jaskier: "Simba"

#my nonsense #jaskier #geralt #geraskier #has this been done? feel like it has

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lambden · 2 years

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4. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

For Geraskier? If you’re still doing requests ☺️

G, 1.9K words, set post-season 2

Long after Ciri has fallen asleep during one of Yennefer’s tamest stories, Geralt finds himself sneaking down the hall on… a whim. Well, not really— witchers don’t have whims. Their every impulse is backed by carefully observed data, allowing them to predict the trajectory of every fight and forbidding them from flights of fancy. So it’s not really his intuition pulling him towards Jaskier’s room, but at the same time, he can’t fathom exactly why he feels pulled to the bard.

Maybe something is lingering on his mind from earlier; things haven’t been smooth between them in years and the Voleth Meir business has undoubtedly further complicated the situation. Since their reunion Jaskier has been moving through the same motions as always, his heartbeat a little less frenzied but still steady and constant. He laughs, and smiles, and jokes, and sings— at least, around Geralt, he does all these things more or less the same. But there is a bizarre and bewildering and upsetting undercurrent to all his actions that Geralt knows he isn’t just imagining. (Witchers don’t really imagine, either.)

He finds the bard’s door slightly ajar, flickering candlelight spilling out onto the cold floor of the hall. But the room is silent, devoid of singing or even snoring. Geralt cautiously tunes his senses for a better picture of what Jaskier might be doing up this late, but all he receives are waves of stress. He smells sharp, sour sweat— not the good kind, not a sweat broken by relief but one wrung out by force. Jaskier’s pulse is faster than usual, and when Geralt opens the door without thinking any better of it, his beating heart spikes.

“Shit,” Jaskier exclaims, caught in the act… of leaving. His jacket is slung over one shoulder and he’s wearing the warm, thick socks he always used to wear on the road, the ones darned a thousand times over. Jaskier has very few possessions here— indeed, he might have very few possessions anywhere. His journals are stacked neatly in an open bag, small enough that Roach could carry it around her neck without complaint. Geralt stops taking inventory of Jaskier’s meagre belongings and instead looks up to see him staring back, wide-eyed. “You scared me,” mutters the man.

Geralt has never scared Jaskier before. He doesn’t think it’s only fear making the man sweat, though— the wrinkle in his forehead between his sharp, thick brows makes him look conflicted. Maybe he wasn’t really going to leave; Geralt has seen him prepare to make much, much stupider decisions and then back out of them at the last second. The witcher enters the room without being invited in, shutting the door quietly behind himself. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really,” Jaskier admits, glancing down at the obvious signs of his departure. One of them will have to bring it up, and it certainly isn’t going to be Geralt— over their decades of knowing each other, he’s learned that the best way to get Jaskier talking is to shut up. But, surprisingly, Jaskier doesn’t mention the packed bag either, just muttering darkly, “Drafty fucking castle. Couldn’t you have picked a warmer climate?”

“I didn’t choose it,” Geralt tells him plainly, even though Jaskier knows that. Sure enough, the bard rolls his eyes. The irritation is familiar enough that it comforts them both, and it gives Geralt the courage to step closer to the bed. “Do you… well. I mean.” He falls silent, embarrassed to have to ask aloud. But it’s the only thing coming to mind that might get Jaskier to stay, aside from an important conversation; and he’s always been shit at those. “I could give you a massage…?”

Jaskier gapes. “What?”

“I could give you a massage,” Geralt repeats slowly, more sure of himself the second time around. Even as Jaskier’s expression contorts into one of increasing confusion, he doesn’t retract the offer, instead doubling down. “That always used to help me calm down when I was stressed. You’re stressed. I’ll rub your back.”

“Fucking hell,” breathes Jaskier, still staring at Geralt as though he’s grown a second head. “I… Are you drunk?”

“No. Lie down.” Jaskier stares, and Geralt realizes the error of his ways too late; Jaskier had always given him massages after he bathed. Often they were both unclothed but Geralt thinks taking off his own trousers might give Jaskier the wrong impression, and he doesn’t want to scare him right out of the keep. He just wants to help him relax. “Take your clothes off, then lie down.”

He thinks Jaskier might pick up his bag of books and toss it at Geralt’s head, but instead the bard just blinks before obeying the instructions. He strips as methodically as he always has around the witcher, first removing his long-sleeved shirt and dropping it off the side of the bed, where it covers his other belongings. Good— let him forget his half-baked plans of leaving.

His breeches come next, leaving him shivering in his smallclothes. Before Geralt can get a good look at anything Jaskier rolls over onto his stomach, leaving his back and legs exposed as he buries his face in the pillow. He’s still wearing his warm, handmade socks. Looking at those socks, Geralt feels a rush of warmth and desire so sudden and overwhelming that it frightens him— he wants to cover Jaskier in blankets, to cover them both, he wants to sheathe himself inside this man and hold him so tightly that the thought of stumbling down a freezing mountain alone never crosses his mind again. He wants Jaskier to be cozy, and he wants Jaskier to know that Geralt wants him to be cozy. Of all the realizations he’s had in the last few years, this has to take the ridiculous cake; Geralt can’t even think of the last time he used the word ‘cozy’. He thinks perhaps he never has.

“Get on with it,” Jaskier begs through chattering teeth, and Geralt moves over him on the bed so that he can do exactly that. He hovers over the man’s thighs, not wanting to perch atop them how Jaskier once had. The position strains his own thighs but Geralt is a witcher, for fuck’s sake; he can put up with aching muscles if it gets Jaskier to relax.

Geralt casts a quick Igni towards the empty hearth and a small fire bursts to life there. He only meant to make the room more comfortable but he immediately recognizes that it was a mistake when Jaskier tenses even more underneath him, burrowing down into the threadbare mattress and turning his head away from the fire. His bare hands curl up into fists at his sides, and Geralt watches them uncomfortably. Yen had told him about some of Rience’s torture, but he hadn’t thought it would leave lasting psychological damage… Maybe they really do need to have that conversation.

Just the thought is terrifying. Geralt opts to stick with his approach instead, leaning forward to dig his hands into Jaskier’s shoulders. At the very first touch the man jumps as though Geralt has poked him, trying to shy away from the sensation. Jaskier stops squirming quickly but he doesn’t relax, shoulders still tense enough that he could be flexing them. Geralt slowly rubs along the tired muscles there, tracing a path down along Jaskier’s sides before moving to work on the middle of his back.

The small crackling fire is their only ambiance— that and Jaskier’s rapidly beating heart. Geralt hadn’t expected him to feel so tightly wound; even after several minutes, Geralt can’t feel any change. He huffs, nearly self-conscious, “What? Don’t like massages?”

His bard doesn’t even respond, which perfectly confirms Geralt’s suspicions that he’s somehow doing this wrong. Growing nervous, he leans down until their bodies are nearly flush. Even then Jaskier doesn’t reply, and Geralt finally whispers against the shell of his ear, “Jaskier. You’re so tense.”

“I don’t think anyone could possibly blame me for that.” Jaskier’s response is muffled through the pillow.

Geralt straightens up, rising up to hover over him again. Unable to fully hide the note of concern in his voice, he asks, “Is this not helping? I thought… Is this not what you want?”

And that finally makes Jaskier react, coming alive under Geralt. He turns, unseating the witcher only slightly as he rolls in place and shifts onto his side, then his back. His hair might have grown and he might have lost some mass but his eyes are blue as ever, and they steal Geralt’s breath exactly the same way as they had some twenty-odd years ago. “You’ve never offered me a massage before,” accuses Jaskier, staring up at him.

Geralt’s medallion dangles down between them but he doesn’t move to put it over his shoulder, too transfixed by the strange look in his friend’s eyes— if he can even call the bard his friend anymore. He doesn’t like not knowing what’s on Jaskier’s mind. Usually he wears his feelings on his sleeve, and right now Geralt can’t understand him when they’re less than a foot apart. It unsettles him, and his answer comes out more honest than he’d meant: “I never thought you needed one before. You’re… stressed. I can see it.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Jaskier huffs. “My brilliant, psychic witcher who somehow manages to miss the most obvious evidence before his very eyes! Yes, Geralt, you’ve solved it; I am fucking stressed!”

Geralt chews his lip. “I can put the fire out.”

Some of the tension drains from Jaskier even as he shakes his head. So maybe he doesn’t want the fire gone so much as he wants it acknowledged that the fire is bothering him, and why that might be. Geralt winces; he’s terrible at acknowledgements. “It’s not the fire. It’s—”

“I can take my pants off too.”

“—that I don’t belong here on th… on this, I’m sorry, what did you just fucking say? Yes, please, never mind. Let’s do that!”

“I want to make you feel more comfortable,” Geralt slowly admits through a grimace. One of Jaskier’s tightly coiled fists unfurls so that he can reach up to lightly cup the witcher’s face. His soft touch is a balm on a wound that Geralt didn’t know he had. “I thought I could offer… a massage, or… a… conversation. Whatever it takes. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Geralt—”

“I want you to be comfortable here,” Geralt insists, sagging into Jaskier’s touch as he comes clean. Jaskier’s eyes fly open wide once more but this time his scent isn’t sick with stress, and no sweat is gathering in the crooks of his body. He looks windswept by the declaration but, as a small smile quirks up in the corners of his mouth, he looks happy too. Geralt revels in that happiness, resolving to do whatever he can to prolong it. “Will you try? If I do?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jaskier sniffs, burying his head into Geralt’s shoulder and hugging him tightly. Geralt embraces him back just as strongly, not wanting to crush him but needing him as close as possible. Jaskier’s shoulders shake with a different tension but Geralt doesn’t address it, holding him until finally, finally the wave of stress crests and he starts to relax. When he breaks the silence between them his voice wavers slightly; “Thank you, Geralt.”

Geralt wraps his arms more solidly around Jaskier, humming softly. “I’m sorry my massages aren’t as good as yours.”

“I’ve had years of experience,” Jaskier dismisses, a smile in his voice. “This… this helps a lot. Just this.”

“Next time I’ll bring chamomile oil.”

“Next time you’ll take your pants off too.” The significance of the promise isn’t lost on Geralt, and when he pulls away to gaze into Jaskier’s bright eyes, he sees the sentiment reflected there.

#geraskier fic #geraskier #my writing #drabble meme #jesskier #asks #i missed writing them!!! thank u for this :-D #i am slowly making my way through the asks in my inbox... apologies for the delay! <3 #also this was originally going to be from jaskiers perspective and had even more Feelings #but i thought it was funnier this way #geralt has so many disorders. so so sosso so so many disorders

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simonstamenovic · 5 months

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ok. cohlune updates bc im finally making progress on his route (or like. not his specifically but he shows up here). so hes the prime minister of caldealand but also seems to be taking care of the princess (muefell. i dont know WHERE her parents are rn). their dynamic is actually very silly to me, because cohlune seems to be responsible for her but she also is very silly and VERY prone to danger (girl that is addicted to running into danger for fun but shes literally fine) and cohlune has to do his best to kind of. keep her from that. the point i just hit in the game is that theyre trying to capture this dangerous creature (who used to be a safe one that muefell was friends with. its a long story) and cohlune is all prepared to go in there, until muefell hits him with the big wet eyes and is basically telling him that she wants to come w them (in much less words, i think you'd enjoy her speech patterns a lot as they're very short and choppy). and ofc cohlune tells her no because its CRAZY dangerous but she hits him w the big wet eyes and he gives in in like a minute because he cant handle being stared at like that. theyre very silly, i have a LOT of this route left so ill be periodically popping in to give more info if you want more :) but the more i see of him the more i think youd like him a lot :)

no thoughts no words but so real so real love it the brain is ruminating n will read again later its so so good

#THANKS UHM MAY RB W STUFF BC AM A BIT WEIRD BUT WE CHERISH THIS #maya uhm adolin in th brain uhm u see this it has uhm its got legs its like ciri n jaskier #O TWIST U KNO THEM HII lol sorry if thts sooo inaccurate we r bein insane rn love #ask.exe #feel we shld have a shorthand 4 ur url incase u makethe gaame popular in th next year BUT #volfoss #bloodletting #save #rly wanna rmemberrr this we r doin so weird #SO UHMM IDK BEAM INTO MIND #RMEMBER #also hi twist luvu

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thelostgirl21 · 9 months

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Help him...

#Jaskier #The Witcher #I was totally fine until THAT specific moment in the trailer...#Joey Batey #has a way of portraying fear and/or anxiety on screen that literally makes you physically feel it!#Those apprehensive eyes with that tiny step back and the way he shakes #How emotionally drained is he when he comes out of these scenes?#Can someone please wrap Jaskier in a warm soft heavy blanket and hold him?#Or Radovid's ridiculously soft and fluffy looking fur cape...#Oh.#Now I know why they gave Jaskier's love interest that large soft fluffy fur cape...#And those soft hair...#And called him #The Spoon Guy #Seriously someone bring him The Spoon Guy!#Like right fucking now!#It's an emergency!#Where the fuck is Prince Spoon Guy the 5th of Redania when you need him an his stupidly soft hair and ridiculously fluffy fur cape??!#My Posts #My Stuff #My fucking feels!

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kuwdora · 9 months

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Coin Operated Boy is now complete! Only took me an extra 2 months to finish because my life got turned inside out. Puppet Jaskier has had a no good, terrible, very bad day. But now he has a good one with Shani on stage! And receives the long awaited help to become human again. This whumpy serious crack of my heart. ❤️

Chapter 4 features Shani and Jaskier performing at the Oxenfurt medical student comedy show. Herein lies bad jokes, increasingly gross humor, and more!

"Knock-knock,” Jaskier said. A few people called back who’s there in varying levels of drunkenness.

“Who’s there?” Shani asked.

“A medical student who has been up all night studying for their test on kidney stones,” Jaskier said.

Shani cleared her throat. “A medical student up all night studying for their test on kidney stones…who?”

The girls in the front giggled and several of the students at the bar also clapped.

Jaskier shrugged at the audience. “I might as well start drinking now because tests on kidney stones are the hardest to pass.”

The majority of the tavern groaned in unison, but there was enough scattered applause and drunken giggles that Jaskier could work with. Shani also groaned.

“If you’re so much better at knock-knock jokes, why don’t you tell me one?” Jaskier asked, waving a little hand indignantly.

“Knock-knock,” Shani said firmly, projecting her voice. The tremble was barely there anymore. That was a good sign.

“Who’s there?” Jaskier and the audience asked together.

“A necromancer,” Shani said.

“A necromancer who?”

“A necromancer you can pay to raise your failing grade,” Shani said.

Some students laughed, others groaned. A mixed reaction was better than silence.

“Speaking of which… what do you get when you cross a medical student and necromancer?” Jaskier asked the audience.

A student burped riotously and Shani waited half a minute for the jeering giggles and cross-chatter died down enough for the punchline.

“A cross between a medical student and a necromancer? That’s just a doctor whose license has expired,” Shani said.

The students laughed and clapped. Shani continued to fidget on the barstool, but the applause seemed to bolster her confidence because she also laughed–a genuine one that would have made Jaskier grin if his face wasn’t made of wood. He let himself ride the wave of cheer.

“I once knew a healer who dabbled in the necromantic arts,” Jaskier said. He scratched his puppet chin thoughtfully and gazed around the tavern. “He was the cousin of Valdo Marx, actually. Don’t tell anyone, but it turns out Valdo died in 1252 from an untreated case of syphilis and his cousin used his dark magic whammy on him.” Jaskier mimed the typical mage gestures for emphasis.

And sure enough a few more students leaned forward in their chairs, listening raptly.

“This cousin brought ol’ Valdo right back from the dead. You didn’t hear it from me, but the only thing keeping that deflated excuse of a bard on his feet is that string of pubic hair trying to escape his lip. His cousin had infused the mustache with enough Chaos to keep him upright. Tear it off and Valdo will crumble like a concertina right there.” Jaskier mimed crashing onto the stage where he would enjoy Valdo’s public and humiliating death.

The tavern roared with jeers and laughter, and several people pounded their drinks on the table.

Okay, maybe Jaskier went off script a little too much but gods, the laughter made Jaskier feel almost normal again.

Why didn’t anyone laugh at his jokes when he said basically the same joke when he was a man?

fic on ao3

#puppetskier has been such a fun time #shani and jaskier are a great duo #really leaning into the body horror and body humor here. and puns. and also Jaskier gets to feel like his old self for a little while #jaskier #my fic #my witcher fic #the witcher netflix #twn #puppetskier #a bard's hiatus in oxenfurt

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