#cuddly geralt

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 149

This prompt has been filled by me! Anyone can write more interpretations and I'd love to see them, but if you're a reader, here's mine! https://archiveofourown.org/works/63921304

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An alternate universe where everything is basically the same, except for that Witchers aren't taught anything about humans, and never truly interact with any. Witchers don't go into towns for contracts. Monster contracts are posted on boards on the outer border of towns. People must check back every day to see if the contract has a knife in it. If it does, it means the witcher is either out fulfilling it, or already has. The witcher will then walk out of the forest with proof of it's kill, you gift them clothing, food, weaponry, sometimes even a steed, and back away slowly. Geralt is a witcher. And the most monstrous of them, if you were to ask him. He has sickly skin, long unnaturally white hair, and those slitted yellow eyes of his. It doesn't matter. Roach doesn't care how he looks, and that's good enough for him. He's hoping this contract will give him some new clothes. He'd even take sewing supplies. His best shirt has a big gash in the sleeve. Which wouldn't normally bother him, he could deal with it, but Roach keeps trying to nibble on it. It's a contract for a bruxa. One that's apparently been causing a lot of issues for some "count." Disrupting parties and attempting to lure people away for the slaughter. Geralt has killed her, and has her head as proof. When he approaches the board with his proof, he sees two humans waiting for him. One of them sneers in disgust, and one of them gasps in horror, tearing up. Geralt presents the head, and then holds his hand out for his reward. The older human shoves the scared one at Geralt. The scared one stumbles as he's shoved, and looks up at Geralt with big, wet blue eyes. Geralt tilts his head and turns back to the older one. That one must be the Count. "Your reward, Witcher." "F- Father!" "Silence, Julian. I don't care what you do to him." The Count turns and leaves. 'Julian' looks at Geralt with fear. Geralt is used to that. Witchers are scary. "I- I thought Witchers only hunted monsters, why did you kill Emmaline?" "...This?" Geralt asks, holding up the head, and the human gags, but nods. "It was a monster. She was a Bruxa. A type of vampire." Julian stares blankly for a moment, before he erupts into laughter. Geralt doesn't usually see or hear laughter very often. He likes when this 'Julian' laughs! Oh, but the laughing turns to sobbing. "I should've known! Of course she didn't like my bloody songs! She liked my bloody blood!" The Julian cries, and Geralt feels awkward. He doesn't quite know how to make a human happy. This would be easier if Geralt were at his camp. He doesn't like being so close to a town. He needs to be in the woods. He scoops up his (apparently) Julian, and throws him over his shoulder and walks him back to camp. Julian is now sitting by Geralt's campfire, still crying, but now it's silent. Geralt sits down beside him. Humans comfort with touch, he thinks. He doesn't truly know. He awkwardly puts his arms around Julian, and it doesn't seem to working.... Aha! Because the tears are still coming! Geralt can fix that! Geralt leans in and licks the salty water away. Julian starts laughing again, and finally relaxes. Geralt did it! He's such a good humankeeper! Having a human around is difficult, but Geralt is quite happy with this new arrangement! Geralt smiles a lot more than he used to. His human is adorable, and he's funny! And Geralt is learning so much more about humans! But sometimes that's horrifying. Geralt learned humans need to eat every day, so Geralt has begun hunting more. Julian didn't tell him this fact, Geralt had to learn it by himself when Julian fainted one day. Geralt also learned that humans are delicate things. Julian tripped over a root in the ground and ended up bleeding! BLEEDING! Geralt nearly lost it, that day. He licked his scratch clean, and bandaged his human, and kept a grip on his arm the rest of the day to balance him. They're sensitive, too.

The night had a light breeze, or so Geralt thought. Julian was shaking, teeth chattering, breaths visible. Hm. Perhaps it was colder than Geralt thought. He drags the human over, making Julian let out an odd "whoop!" sound, and wraps his arms around him. Julian scoots closer before settling, wrapping around geralt.

Humans are also curious. Too curious. Julian followed him on a hunt once and almost got hurt. Geralt shouted at him, immediately felt horrible, and apologized, but made sure to let Julian know that Julian was the one who did something stupid. Geralt thinks about getting a leash to keep his human safe at camp, but he doesn't think Julian would go for it.

His human seems happy! Until he doesn't. All of a sudden he's walking slower, and constantly frowning, and he sighs every few minutes! It's driving Geralt crazy not knowing how to fix it! He's tried all the things that have worked before! He licked him, he hugged him, he let him pet Roach, he made him a bigger portion of food, but nothing is working!

"What troubles you?" "…Hm? Oh, sorry. It's just… I wanted to be a bard. Before." "Before?" "…My father.. Sold me to you, Geralt."

Oh yeah.

"…What's a bard?" "G- Geralt, you don't know what a bard is?" "No." "Why, it's simply the best career out there! At least for me. Bards make music. They travel the continent singing their sweet melodies and sharing their feelings and hope to every townsperson out there. Farmers and nobles alike love a good bard."

Julian twitters on some more about these 'bard' titles.

"How do you become a bard?" "Well, you need an instrument. I had a lute, once. And you write songs in a notebook or journal. And all you have to do is sing them."

Thus Geralt makes a plan. Geralt goes searching for these items, loots here and there, and he believes he has a perfectly functional 'lute' and a journal. Geralt has a journal. It's too full of monsters to be given to his human, though. His human deserved one just for his songs.

When Geralt gave these items to his human, his human started sobbing. Shit! But Julian insists it's "happy" sobbing??? That's a thing? Humans will also cry when happy? Geralt will take note of this.

Geralt's Julian is MUCH happier now! And he makes such nice noises! He sings for Geralt all the time now. He strums his lute, and sings, and when he's not doing that, he's humming, and when he's not doing that, he's excitedly chatting away to Geralt, and it all makes him so happy. His human is happy! He likes his little human friend. And Geralt now knows for sure his human friend likes him back.

"Though it hurt so much at the time, I'm so very glad my father gave me to you. I've truly never been happier."

It appears Julian's last humankeepers were bad at their job, despite being humans themselves. Oh well. Doesn't matter now. Geralt would never rehome him.

Thus comes Geralt's problem. Winter is coming. He needs to head to the keep. He can keep his human alive up the path, Geralt's sure of it. He's skilled in humankeeping by now. But the actual staying part is what scares him. What if when Julian meets the other witchers, he finds one that can keep him even happier than Geralt? What if Geralt loses his Julian!? It's just unthinkable!

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

Catmint and Cuddles

Geralt is a big dumb cat and that’s the tea. Also was he hiding an engagement ring? Possibly.

word count 1k (ish), no tw

please comment or tag. I’m begging for validation, here.

---

Jaskier entered the small but warm inn room and crossed over to the bed, setting his lute in the leather case and latching it carefully closed. Once he’d tucked Sexy into her protective velvet covering safe and sound, the bard turned towards his friend. Geralt was sitting in the corner by their packs, shuffling things around against the wood floor and muttering. 

“What are you up to, my darling Witcher?”

“Nothing.”

A whole word? An entire, complete answer that wasn’t just an absentminded, dismissive hum? And so quickly? Jaskier sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Alright, Geralt, what did you break? I promise I won’t be mad as long as it’s not my resin block again.”

“It’s really nothing!”

Jaskier crossed the room and stood above Geralt, hands on his hips and eyes narrowed. The Witcher had clearly been sorting out their bags and had come across the bard’s hidden supply of Catmint. Jaskier had purchased it from an apothecary three towns back in case Geralt ever needed a sleeping-aide or a muscle relaxant, and he kept it sequestered at the bottom of his pack, wrapped heavily in two layers of thick wool. Geralt looked up from the pile of crushed herbs in his hand, his pupils blown wide and black. He blinked slowly.

The Witcher gave Jaskier the kind of apologetic expression a kitten might have given its mother upon realizing it had gotten into trouble and bit at his lip with his sharp canines. It took the bard enormous effort to keep a disappointed look on his face; Geralt was fucking adorable like this and he was tempted not to reprimand him at all. But the Witcher had also gone through his things without permission and that was rude, so…

“Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde,” he frowned imperiously, “What were you doing rummaging around in my things?”

“Might have dropped something.”

“I might have dropped something out of my bag or you might have dropped something into my bag?”

“I dropped something into your bag.”

“And it fell to the bottom?”

“All the way.”

Geralt was incredibly talkative and affectionate under the influence of Catmint and Jaskier usually enjoyed such times, but now his Witcher was acting incredibly nervous and suspicious, eyeing the bag even as he tried to keep his gaze locked with Jaskier’s.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!”

“Geralt,” he frowned again. The Witcher crumbled, his wide golden eyes filling up with unsheddable tears. Jaskier’s anger and suspicion dissolved immediately; it had to be a big deal if Geralt was so upset so quickly. “Oh dear heart, I’m not mad at you! I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t… you’re not leaving again without telling me.”

“Oh no!” Geralt’s arms flew out to wrap around Jaskier’s upper thighs, nearly knocking the younger man over. “I could never leave you again!”

Jaskier blushed and bit his lip to keep from grinning. “Never?”

“Of course not,” Geralt shook his head. “But you have to promise not to ask what I hid. You’ll find out soon. It’s a good surprise, okay?”

“Alright,” Jaskier smiled. He swept up the remaining Catmint and packed away whatever could be salvaged. Geralt had clearly inhaled enough to get him pliant and talkative, but not enough to make him sleepy. “Do you want to cuddle or mess around the room a bit and knock stuff over while you’re all noodled out on Catmint?”

“I would like to cuddle.” Geralt stood quickly and swept Jaskier into his arms. The bard laughed brightly and his Witcher nuzzled down against the top of his head. “You smell sweet.”

“I bathed yesterday, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Geralt laid him out on the bed and climbed in behind him; the tactical position, where he could see the door and hear the noises outside the small square window. He tucked them both under the blanket and wrapped his limbs around Jaskier as tightly as they’d go without crushing any bones. “I did, too.”

“Mhm,” Jaskier agreed. He nearly melted into the mattress when Geralt’s head came to rest on his chest, his hypersensitive ear pressed over Jaskier’s heart. “Making sure all my pieces and parts are still working the way they’re supposed to?”

“All in good condition,” Geralt nodded. Jaskier lifted one careful hand up from his side and buried it in the Witcher’s long white hair. He’d convinced Geralt to grow it out until Midsummer so that he could make the fanciest braided crown in all of Lettenhove for their bonfire and festival. His Witcher would be the prettiest dancer in the crowd. 

“I’m very excited for Midsummer,” he pressed a quick kiss to the top of Geralt’s head and the Witcher rumbled out a happy purr. The firmer Jaskier’s head scratches became, the louder his Witcher purred against him, rumbling both of their chests with the force of his affection. “I can’t wait to braid this gorgeous mane.”

“Will you make me pretty?”

“You’re always pretty.”

“Hmm,” Geralt glowered. Jaskier tugged his hair a little in order to get his attention. Only when he’d locked eyes with his grouchy Witcher did he say his piece: “You are gorgeous, Geralt of Rivia. I tell you that every day and I’ll keep telling you every day until one of us dies.”

“Even when you marry a fancy noble lady and leave the Path to raise hordes of babies?” Geralt asked, pouting. Jaskier kissed his forehead and pulled him up by the arms, gathering the Witcher close to his chest. 

“You know I’m never leaving you,” he sighed. “Come hell or high water, dear heart, I will be your constant companion. You have me by the heartstrings and I’m yours ‘til my last breath.”

“Hmm,” Geralt smiled and blushed, burying his face in the bard’s chest as if that would stop his face from burning bright pink. “Jaskier.”

“You asked, I merely gave you my honest answer, love.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

The purring grew louder and Jaskier grinned.

“You could...practice,” Geralt muttered against the bard’s neck.

“What do you mean?”

Geralt propped himself up on one elbow and looked off into the distance, avoiding Jaskier’s curious gaze. He twiddled his fingers together, “You could try out your braids right now and see how they look. Maybe you’ll need to see a few different styles before Midsummer.”

“Would you like me to braid your hair and sing to you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then. Sit up. Here we go. What song would you like?”

“Hmm,” Geralt considered, his eyebrows gathered firmly together. Finally he decided, “Matty Groves.”

“Alright, Matty Groves it is.”

Jaskier’s fingers started weaving, his mouth started singing, and his heart fluttered brightly with his Witcher in his arms.

[dapandapod]

Holy shit, I love your “idiot syndrome” Witcher stories SO MUCH!!!! They’re exactly the fluff and silliness we need “in these uncertain times”

Hello cutie! Thank you for your kind words!! So Im gifting you a little something right here!

Prev   -   Next

~

Witchers and sorceresses don’t get sick. However, children and bards might. No matter how many big, thick furs you put them in, they might just catch a cold. (Especially after a snowball fight.) 

And they did.

Jaskier and Ciri:  *cuddles and huddles with their runny noses in a bed* *Jaskier has his arm around Ciri who reads out loud from a book* *super cozy* *and snotty*

Geralt: *enters the room* *looks at his sicklings* *they are so cute* What are you up to?

Jaskier: We are practicing our Nilfgaardian. *voice all raspy and nasal*

Ciri: Come sit with us?  *pats next to her*

Geralt: Fine. *climbs in next to Ciri* *she arranges them so that Jaskier and Geralts arm are touching* *and she leans back to trap them there*

Ciri: *reading nilfgaardian rather well* *too tired to get annyed when Geralt gives her pointers*

Jaskier: *getting really tired* *this is so cozy* *eyes are getting heavy* *head falls down on Geralt’s shoulder*

Geralt: *OH.*  *DON’T PANIC*  *HE IS ONLY RIGHT THERE* *OH MAN THAT IS SO CUTE* 

Geralt: *I can get used to this* *this is so warm and cuddly* *and Ciri is doing so well*

~

 Ciri:  *notice nothing at all until the end of the chapter* *Geralt has been very quiet*  *looks up*

Geralt: *now also sleeping* *resting his head on Jaskiers*  *it is so peaceful*

Ciri: *smiles warmly* *picks up her well hidden clipboard* *hums and scribbles and coughs*     Idiots they might be, but cute idiots. Temporary weakness draws them closer together. Will have to find more ways for this to happen.

Ciri and the idiot syndrome

Ao3

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 141

Many would assume the flirtatious and caring bard to be the most touchstarved of the duo, but they would be wrong. Very very wrong. It was Geralt that sought out Jaskier's personal space like it was an all-curing ambrosia. Day and night, In town or in the woods, warm weather or the late autumn, Geralt would touch him. Always, always touching him. Don't get him wrong! Jaskier loves being groped all day by his rather attractive witcher friend, but it wasn't always the most convenient trait for his witcher to have.

*Growls* "Geralt, please, it's the waitress! She's taking our order."

Geralt clings to Jaskier's arms, plays with his hair, sniffs at his neck. He guides Jaskier with a hand on the shoulder, or an arm around his waist, or one time, - flustering Jaskier greatly - a hand on his hip. When Geralt is worried for him, he grips his arm, shields him with his body, or roams his hands over Jaskier's body, searching for injuries. Geralt is ever-present in Jaskier's personal space. It's just become a thing with them. Even in times of stress, danger, adrenaline. Geralt is fighting a manticore one day, and Jaskier is - admittedly, quite foolishly - in plain view. It wasn't on purpose! He's not an idiot! STOP JUDGING HIM! The beast goes to charge straight for him, and Geralt grabs his arm and whips him to the side, just in time to save him from the beast who then careens off a cliff. Jaskier pants, and feels the familiar weight of Geralt's hands. Geralt is snarling at him, shouting at him, and Jaskier tries very hard to understand, truly, he does, but it's hard. "Damn it, Jaskier, answer me!" Oh! REALLY should be listening now! "Hm?" "Are you hurt? Are you in pain?" "No, no, you- You saved me." Like always. Jaskier stares at his hero. His witcher. His Geralt. His love. For Jaskier does love Geralt. More than anything. And Jaskier seems to realize this fact more and more every day. With every move Geralt makes, with every word he says, with every little touch and caress. He thinks more on this fact later that night around the campfire. Geralt asks him to pass him a waterskin, but when Jaskier reaches to grab it, he hisses in pain. He rolls up his sleeve and sees a bruise in the shape of Geralt's hand on his arm. Right. From when he was saved. "I'm going to find some dinner." Geralt suddenly announces, standing abruptly and already shuffling away. "Wh- But Geralt, what about the watersk-" "I don't need it." He disappears into the bushes and trees, and Jaskier furrows his brow. He was sure they still had some food in their packs, why was Geralt so insistent on leaving? Curious... Even more curious, is in the following days, Geralt is avoiding him. From an outsiders perspective, nothing would appear wrong. But Geralt hasn't touched him once. No embraces, or odd sudden bouts of smelling Jaskier's hair, or holding his hand... He hasn't even stood closer than a meter to him. Jaskier worries to no end. What must he have done? What's changed? Why won't Geralt touch him? It's not until he's bathing one evening and he glances to the still-healing bruise that it clicks. Geralt feels guilty. The damned bleeding-heart is so convinced he's a monster that even a mark that shows protection shows only it's ugliest form to him. When Jaskier sees the bruise on his arm, he remembers Geralt saving him, he remembers the relief, he remembers feeling alive. Geralt only sees a bruise. Something of hurt. Caused by Geralt. Jaskier is so simultaneously horrified and infuriated that he slams open the door of the joined bathroom and marches into main area of the room they'd rented for the night. Still nude. Still dripping. Geralt, sat on the bed, midway through taking off his boots, was certainly shocked.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 105

Jaskier has come to realize that Geralt sleeps better when touching Jaskier in some way. He supposes Geralt was always more well-rested when they shared beds, but he thought that was from the bed, not the proximity said beds usually forced them into. Jaskier gets hurt during a hunt, and falls asleep curled around Geralt and vice versa. Slowly, over the span of a few days, Geralt goes from full-blown cuddling him, to just resting his hand on top of his, now a foot or so away so it's all that touches. Jaskier was actually starting to quite like all the affection, and he knows Geralt feels better when he knows Jaskier is safe... So Jaskier fibs one night and says he sleeps better when Geralt is right there, protecting him. Well, alright, it's not exactly a lie, he does feel safer and he does sleep better, but the fib is that they'll be doing it for Jaskier's comfort and wellbeing, and not Geralt's. Now whenever he can sense Geralt is twitchy with potions, or when Jaskier had a close call in a fight, he makes a big song and dance over feeling rattled and needing Geralt's touch in order to sleep, when in reality, he's doing it so he can reassure his witcher that he is alive and whole, safe in his arms.