Cat!Geralt au when? Hm? Let me explain myself: According to one of the Gwent reward trees, Gezras and his Cats take in badly mutated rejects from other schools. Geralt's second round of mutations fail somehow - perhaps he's too animalistic or his eyes/ears don't work quite right - and the Wolf school just...hurls him out. They're not so cruel as to make Vesemir or the other trainers do the killing and the mages wasted too much time on the little failure to kill it so down the mountain Geralt goes. It's assumed that he'll be killed as soon as he reaches the nearest human settlement but Gezras finds him first and takes him back to Dyn Marv. Idk if this is anything but my brain enjoys it immensely. Mayhaps just a drabble? Though I am notoriously bad at drabbles...
Would you be willing to write some competent Jaskier rescuing Geralt? Your nightingale fic inspired this, so maybe Geralt gets shrunk, or turned into a not-wolf animal? I love your writing!
I am soooo sorry. This totally took me 2 months to get to. (This is my nightingale fic for reference but this is not set in the same verse)
Geraskier - 974 words
Warnings: Umm? None? Geralt gets turned into a kitten. It’s pretty tame.
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Jaskier wasn’t panicking. Why would he panic? There was no need to panic. Geralt had just gone to fight off some drowners; a contract he’d taken a dozen times since Jaskier had known him. Geralt could take down drowners in his sleep.
So why wasn’t he back yet?
The first night Jaskier had just assumed the drowner nest was further away than they’d been led to believe. The second night he’d stayed up until dawn when he’d passed out still seated at the table downstairs; still no Geralt. It was now the third night and Jaskier was… well he was maybe sort of panicking, but what could he do? He was just a bard.
He chewed his lip as he spotted his dagger lying on the dresser, sparkling in the light of the moon. He’d never used it, he could, but he didn’t. He’d been trained thoroughly as a young heir of Lettenhove, but he was a romantic, a musician, a poet… he didn’t want to fight.
But if Geralt was in danger then he couldn’t just sit here and mope. He had to help. He had to do something! He licked his lips as he swiped the dagger from the table, strapping the holster around his waist. He stormed out the inn under the cover of night, not caring about the odd looks he got from the innkeeper. He was off to find his witcher.
He wasn’t very good at tracking but he figured his best bet was to travel to the river, where the drowner nest had supposedly been. When he got there he cursed all the gods he knew. Geralt’s silver sword was lying on the ground along with his satchel of potions. There was no way Geralt would have left those behind willingly. There was no sign of his steel sword so Jaskier kept moving, praying that he was going in the right direction. He found Geralt’s steel sword in a herb garden outside a nearby cottage, the runes glowing in the dark.
He ran over to collect the second sword. His heart clenched in his chest. Something was very wrong, and he had no idea how to fix it. Gods, what was he going to do? It was usually Geralt saving him in these situations, not the other way round.
A small meow drew his attention. Jaskier looked down at his feet. A snowy white kitten was rubbing at his ankles, weaving between his legs. The kitten looked up at him was large yellow eyes and Jaskier had to cover his mouth to stop the manic giggle.
“Oh Geralt, what have you done?” He asked the little kitten, picking him up by the scruff of his neck, ignoring the hisses. Geralt tried to scratch at him but Jaskier cradled him in his arms, cooing at the cute little darling, until Geralt bit him. “Ow! Oi what was that for?”
Geralt meowed, flicking his tiny little tail angrily.
“Oh fine, be like that. Where’s your medallion? I have your swords and potions but I can’t see any clothes.”
Geralt nuzzled against his hand and meowed. Jaskier frowned and chewed on his lip. He was used to translating Geralt’s hums and grunts but this was new.
“Umm…right. Yeah, no, I am going to need more than that, my dear,” Jaskier sighed, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yes or no questions then, come on Jask. It’ll be like those games at Oxenfurt,” he stuck his tongue out as he concentrated, trying to get his thoughts in order long enough to fix this. “Did your medallion change with you?”
Geralt nodded.
“And clothes too?”
Geralt nodded again.
“Cursed?”
Geralt shook his head, glancing towards the little cottage.
Jaskier tucked Geralt into the front of his doublet. Geralt hissed but Jaskier just scratched the little kitten behind the ears until he managed to coax out a gentle purr. “There we go,” he breathed. “it’s easier to carry you like this. Stay put.”
Geralt half purred and half meowed but settled down, nuzzling against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier smiled fondly down at his witcher before heading inside the cottage. Geralt hissed at him whenever he got further away from whatever had caused his predicament, or at least that was how Jaskier interpreted it, really he was just guessing. Eventually Jaskier’s fingers brushed over a dusty old velvet bag. Geralt meowed loudly and Jaskier picked the bag up, peering inside, but it was empty.
“What was in here? No shit, wait… was it a potion?” Geralt hissed, and kept hissing until Jaskier guessed some kind of magic dust. He frowned, kissing the kitten on the head without really realising. “Magic dust, really?”
Geralt meowed loudly.
“Soo….” Jaskier drawled “a trip to see Yennefer?”
Geralt nodded, wide yellow eyes blinking up at him. Jaskier booped Geralt’s tiny little kitten nose with a laugh, pulling away before Geralt could bite his finger. He gathered up Geralt’s belongings, the duel swords heavy on his back. Yennefer would love this, once she stopped being all haughty sorceress. She’d gotten far too used to the troubles Jaskier and Geralt found themselves in over the years. It had almost become routine. She’d roll her eyes, and ignore them for a few hours, muttering that she wasn’t at their beck and call, before helping them anyway just so she could tease them about it for the rest of the evening.
Jaskier chuckled, whilst he had his differences with Yennefer, he had to admit that she wasn’t all that bad. They were almost friends… almost. Geralt’s purring grew louder on his chest as they neared the inn. He glanced down at the bundle of white fur, squeaking as he noticed the witcher had fallen asleep. He almost wished Geralt could stay like this forever. He was just too cute!
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Tag list (Geraskier - let me know if you want to be added/removed): @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @llamasdumpsterfire @skai6
They did MerGerlat and drew the background and I did CatGeralt and coloured the background! Go over to their page to see more CatGeralt and more amazing art!
Jaskier: ... of course, the... fruit of my loins-
(I want you all to know that of all the things I could have thought about, my mind instantly went to that one Star Trek TNG episode where Picard is turned into a kid and is a. the most unsettling child who just, doesn't know how to talk or behave like a child b. doesn't know how to interact with other children c. has so many wonderful cringeworthy and stiff interactions with riker who pretends to be his dad, I-)
