#sick!geralt

[tiisshu]

Here's another old injured!jaskier/sick!Geralt . This was probably my shortest little drabble but I just reread it and remembered it fondly.

Taking your own advice

"If you knew when to shut your mouth, Jaskier, this wouldn't have happened", The Witcher reasoned.

The Bard in question lay prone on a spread of furs before a fire as the pair rested from another long days journey. He groaned and turned his head to face the fire and the Witcher beyond.

" and if YOU were doing your job, that Nekker wouldn't have had a chance", Jaskier huffed indignantly, cranky with discomfort.

A dark look passed over the Witcher's face as he closed himself to the conversation and turned his attention instead to cleaning some of the nekker guts off his gear. A silence grew between them punctuated only by the crackling of the fire, Roach's soft nuzzling of the grass nearby, and the occasional scrape of a whetstone on steel

. . . . . .

Jaskier had lapsed into a fitful sleep, the ache in his shoulder proving difficult to position himself well, when he was awoken by a sound he couldn't quite place at first until it swelled suddenly with staccato desperation and Jaskier opened his eyes in time to see Geralt pull in a sharp near-silent breath, canine flashing, as he ducked carefully into an armored shoulder with a practiced movement.

Hh... Hih'tsshhuh!... Snff..

Jaskier watched with fascination as Geralt raised his head, his yellow eyes obscured by dark lashes that blearily tried to blink away a feeling that obviously had left the Witcher feeling muzzy.

"Bless you", Jaskier offered quietly as Geralt raised a hand to paw at his face.

He didn't startle, Jaskier assumed the Witcher had known the moment he had awoken by his heartbeat alone or the cadence of his breath, but he cast the bard a brief side-eye before turning into his shoulder again.

This time he convulsed twice, the first sneeze silent and contained but followed by a single sharp inhale before a louder and significantly wetter sounding... -ght! hhh!…hhHEGSHUu!

Jaskier frowned, thought about it, then sighed.

This was out of place, he couldn't remember the Witcher breaking that impressive dignified silence over a couple of sneezes before. He realized that if Geralt was perhaps, say, coming down with something, that would explain the muddled senses and the need for the bard to be silent so he could focus better. Fuck...

Jaskier had enough sense to flush with embarrassment, reconsider his attitude toward his stoic companion, before carefully venturing into unknown territory.

"Why didn't you say you were unwell?". Geralt paused and regarded the bard with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

"Barely worth mentioning".

His voice, surprisingly huskier than normal, sinking further down into a scrape of sound that had the bard wincing with sympathy and sending a silent prayer to the Gods that he didn't catch it himself.

Jaskier huffed and gestured toward himself, " might have made the difference. I... I didn't realize".

The bard watched as Geralt swallowed around a sore throat and set his kit aside, crossing his arms and leaning back against the outcrop with a hmmm.

Jaskier fell silent again when he realized that the witcher hadn't even bothered to deny it.

Surely that alone denoted how the brooding man must feel. Jaskier felt altogether endeared and exasperated.

He thought to make a quip about it when that hazy look crept across his companions face once again, it was almost too much how Geralt seemed to set his jaw and fight it the same way he did everything else like some silent war. This one however he was rapidly losing and even Jaskier could recognize the line of embarrassment that bisected that furrowed brow.

He could rightly assume the Witcher was once again wishing the bard was anywhere but right where they were, but he could sense no actual heat behind it.

"Hih... Huh... snff.. hih' fuh-fuck.."

Jaskier sighed and braced himself as he got to his feet, taking the opportunity to move himself and the furs around the fire while the Witcher was distracted. He dumped the furs beside his ailing companion just as the sneeze that had been eluding him rose to the surface causing the Witcher to pitch to the side furthest away as it scraped along his throat. The sneeze more vocal than the others had been thus far.

Hih'Eh!... H'AESSH! Ugh...Wuh- Jaskier...wud are y-", Geralt made a face at his own congestion forgetting for a moment to admonish the bard for his proximity and tried to clear his throat to try again when Jaskier held a hand up to silence him.

"Bless you, and Take your own advice, Geralt", Jaskier said with a smile despite the overly dramatic moan that followed as he took the spot next to the Witcher, his crude stitches pulling, and dragged the other furs across their laps.

When the Witcher continued to level him with a questioning gaze as he settled the bard broke out in a laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder to brace himself as he replied.

"Shut up".

[tiisshu]

Patiently Puzzling

@weirdshitandthings this is just the first bit, so not much “action” hah.

It is well-known on the continent that those who call the skellige isles home are a tough sort with wind-worn faces and hearty spirits. Well, they certainly would need to be, wouldn't they?It was another miserable night spent staked out in the village center of Urialla Harbor. Despite the heat thrown from the roaring fire at the center of the sparse stone circle, J/askier felt the deep penetrating bite of cold from the sleet at his back.As a shiver crept up his spine he huffed his annoyance once again, earning him a sideways glance from the witcher keeping vigil.

"No one said you had to be here during-"

J/askier cut him off with a wave of his hand, "W-what? And miss the action? G-Gods' know you won't be forthcoming w-with the details".G/eralt regarded the young bard with exasperation. Wanted to remind him that he had insisted on accompanying the W/itcher on this journey to Skellige and that no one had said it was going to be pleasant.It was halfway through Autumn after all in a place that saw more rain than he suspected J/askier had ever seen in his life and yet, and yet… G/eralt had let him tag along. Again.

 When he thinks on it he supposes that over the last decade his resolve against companionship along the path has been whittled away, piece by piece, until he finds that he quite enjoys the bard's company. Even if he’d rather eat his boots than admit it.

Skellige is a harsh place, might as well accept any form of comfort, even familiarity. He bites back a frown when he sees a shiver rip through the younger man furious enough that it ends with a jerk of one of his shoulders that nearly tosses him off balance. G/eralt tosses another log onto the fire and casts igni again.The heat thrown off is enough it seems to stop J/askier's shivering for the time being, but G/eralt finds it makes the damp in his clothes all the more uncomfortable. 

“Ah.. that’s better!”, J/askier says in appreciation as he angles himself closer to his friend and the fire.

Thankfully, it won't be too much longer until G/eralt can be sure the Noonwraith he cast off earlier in the day was truly put to rest. As time slowly passes the storm rages on, the wind beginning to change direction, bringing with it a pungent and sharp odor from where the skelliger's had been burning brush and refuse from their fields. 

G/eralt wasn't sure what sort of plant life gave off that kind of stink that it could affect him here, this close to the sea air which had a strange albeit abrasive cleansing effect but he found it a bit overwhelming. He inhales slowly, feeling the sharp twinge deep in his sinuses and can almost taste the acrid stench, his eyes watering enough he has to blink away the irritation.

He roughs at his nose with the back of a gloved hand and sniffles only once as the tickle abates and he casts another quick igni at the sorry excuse for a fire they have.

The wind picks but a bit and he grumbles to himself as he feels that prickling sensation return. With a catch in his breath, he turns away from the fire and smothers a wrenching Heh’HRSSSHH! into the damp folds of an elbow. 

It takes a moment for the W/itcher to recover. It seems only the one needed to alleviate his discomfort, but the sneeze leaves him as they always do, a bit congested and dazed.

 He feels the Bard's eyes on him and really it speaks volumes that he hasn't made some quip yet but this was usually the only time he was ever quiet, except when asleep.

This isn't the first time G/eralt has noticed... Well, he isn’t sure what he was noticing but over the years it was slowly puzzling itself into place. Whatever it was, it seemed to make the Bard both elated and yet troubled, and the W/itcher hadn't any idea how to broach the subject. 

He suspected the younger man would immediately go on the defense and find some flowery way to change the subject. Though the curiosity really was beginning to weigh on him...

~~~~

To be continued, with the evidence G/eralt has collected over the years.

[tiisshu]

Which scenerio first? ( Both will be written but which one do I complete first).

1. J/askier is performing at a tavern and is in the thick of his element. G/eralt is slouching in a corner trying to be inconspicuous so he can drink (and maybe listen to the bard), when a woman walks by with very overpowering perfume. It gets the better of our dear w/itcher and he struggles to keep a handle on it until he ultimately dresses too much attention to himself and manages to fluster the bard in a way he's never been on stage. Which is one of the clues the big lug head tucked away to puzzle further.

2. While out on the path, j/askier in tow, g/eralt tries to just middle through the beginnings of the flu which has the bard fussing and practically begging the w/itcher to stop at the next Inn and rest. G/eralt resists hard and ignores him. Later they run into Yennefer who quickly assesses the situation and says the same thing about the inn and g/eralt responds as if it's the best idea and allows her to strong arm him. J/askier becomes jealous and quiet, slipping off to drink sullenly in the tavern and eventually to part company with some sort of excuse.

[tiisshu]

More prompts...? :D G & J with 💟,😪,🤧,and 🦠?

There was a whole lot going on with this prompt. I left out tissues, but here you gooooo.

                                                       • • •

At this point in their lives, both Geralt and Jaskier were no strangers to each other’s failings.

Jaskier was prepared for the eventual come downs from toxicity overload on tough quests, when Geralt would shake from a fever that would sear the remainders of the toxins he’d ingested out of his system. Times when those unsettling golden eyes would ghost across his face unseeing, unknowing…

He knew which of his songs worked best to soothe the Witcher’s ragged nerves as he slipped in and out of consciousness.  Knew when to touch and when to keep his distance.

For his part, Geralt was well versed in the nuances of caring for a human companion. Specifically one as lacking in self-preservation as the bard hellbent on following him all over the continent.

He knew which routes to take and during which seasons, having seen one too many of the Bard’s surrenders to hay fever which left his companion miserable and short of breath, as well as what to do if an irritant was not so easily avoided.

What the pair were not accustomed to was being ill at the same time.

It just simply hadn’t happened over the decades they’d weaved in and out of each other’s lives.  And though neither of them voiced it, they both felt like they could have lived their whole lives without experiencing that, thank you very much.

Alas, here they were, in the middle of no where, huddled for warmth around a fire while trying to out do each other on the misery scale.

Currently Geralt was in the lead as he sat braced against a tree with his head cradled between shaking hands as he tiredly struggled to the end of a relentless and teasing sneezing fit.

Each inhale seemed to be a fight between his nose and his lungs; both testily complained of the virus and the wear and tear it was having on the Witcher was evident with each stuttered breath.

Hhh-! … Huh’…Hih!…

For a moment there would be silence as Geralt froze, head tilting minutely back as he finally reached the peak he’d been building toward nostril flaring.

Hhih! Hih’AaH'ISSSH'SHIEW! Ngghh…

Blinking back the tears, Geralt registers how horrendously congested he is, the obstruction causing his breath to catch again and this time he’s coughing until Jaskier has to shift up to thump him helpfully (albeit weakly) upon his back to help shift the mucus.

The Witcher hates this more than anything else, even the few times he’d been coerced into travel via portal.

Beside him Jaskier returned to his blanket, silent as stone and just as pale. The virus had mostly left his sinuses alone, at least in comparison, but seemed to have decided instead to sap him of his voice and remaining strength.

He’d spent most of their day asleep tucked up beside the Witcher where Geralt could keep track of a fever that the Bard continually tried to downplay. 

The argument fell flat immediately  however when the Witcher had his only truly satisfying sneeze, earlier on that came on so suddenly he hadn’t been able to cover or muffle it, and yet Jaskier had continued to sleep fitfully at his side unperturbed.

With another sniffle, Geralt  finally, sluggishly regarded his companion. Jaskier caught his eye and let out a heavy and tired sigh that came out as more of a deep scrape of gravel.

The Witcher grimaced at the sound but couldn’t help the tug of his lips as he made a comparison.

“…You… Thad’s my line”.

Jaskier’s face split into a tired grin and something in the Witcher felt a little bit better.

[tiisshu]

The Archive so far...

Sick! Geralt

Taking your own Advice

A Safe Place

Close Quarters (w/ Kink!Jaskier)

Day Off

__________________

Sick!Jaskier

Of Course

I’ll See you Through:

Chapter One

Convalesce (w/ kink!Geralt)

C’mere

Warming Up

[tiisshu]

Taking your own advice- The W/tcher

Jaskier knows an opportunity when he sees one. 

This is a sickfic oneshot thingy, this fandom is severely lacking lol 

no mention of anything because I’m too lazy to cross reference anything, imagine them somewhere in Velen or some other swampy looking mess.

"If you knew when to shut your mouth, Jaskier, this wouldn't have happened", The Witcher reasoned.

The Bard in question lay prone on a spread of furs before a fire as the pair rested from another long days journey. He groaned and turned his head to face the fire and the Witcher beyond.

" and if YOU were doing your job, that Nekker wouldn't have had a chance", Jaskier huffed indignantly, cranky with discomfort. His shoulder bandaged and stiff as a medicinal salve worked to prevent infection while they made their way to the nearest village.

A dark look passed over the Witcher's face as he closed himself to the conversation and turned his attention instead to cleaning some of the nekker guts off his gear.

A silence grew between them punctuated only by the crackling of the fire, Roach's soft nuzzling of the grass nearby, and the occasional scrape of a whetstone on steel.

. . . . .

Jaskier had lapsed into a fitful sleep, the ache in his shoulder proving difficult to position himself well, when he was awoken by a sound he couldn't quite place at first until it swelled suddenly with staccato desperation and Jaskier opened his eyes in time to see Geralt pull in a sharp near-silent breath, canine flashing, as he ducked carefully into an armored shoulder with a practiced movement.

Hh... Hih'tsshhuh!... Snff..

Jaskier watched with fascination as Geralt raised his head, his yellow eyes obscured by dark lashes that blearily tried to blink away a feeling that obviously had left the Witcher feeling muzzy.

"Bless you", Jaskier offered quietly as Geralt raised a gloved hand to paw at his face.

He didn't startle, Jaskier assumed the Witcher had known the moment he had awoken by his heartbeat alone, but he cast the bard a brief side-eye before turning into his shoulder again.

 This time he convulsed twice, the first sneeze silent and contained but followed by a single sharp inhale before a louder and significantly wetter sounding...

-ght! hhh!…hhHEGSHUu!

Jaskier frowned, thought about it, then sighed.

This was out of place, he couldn't remember the Witcher breaking that impressive dignified silence over a couple of sneezes before. He realized that if Geralt was perhaps, say, coming down with something, that would explain the muddled senses and the need for the bard to be silent so he could focus better. Fuck...

Jaskier had enough sense to flush with embarrassment, reconsider his attitude toward his stoic companion, before carefully venturing into unknown territory.

"Why didn't you say you were unwell?".

Geralt paused and regarded the bard with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.

"Barely worth mentioning". His voice, surprisingly huskier than normal, sinking further down into a scrape of sound that had the bard wincing with sympathy.

Jaskier huffed and gestured toward himself, " might have made the difference. I... I didn't realize".

The bard watched as Geralt swallowed around what was likely a sore throat and set his kit aside, crossing his arms and leaning back against the outcrop with a hmmm.

Jaskier fell silent again when he realized that the witcher hadn't even bothered to deny it.

Surely that alone denoted how the brooding man must feel. Jaskier felt altogether endeared and exasperated. He thought to make a quip about it when that hazy look painted itself across his companions face once again, it was almost too much how Geralt seemed to set his jaw and fight it the same way he did everything else like some silent war.

This one he was rapidly losing and even Jaskier could recognize the line of embarrassment that bisected that furrowed brow. He could rightly assume the Witcher was once again wishing the bard was anywhere but right where they were, but he could sense no actual heat behind it.

Hih... Huh... snff

Jaskier sighed and braced himself as he got to his feet, taking the opportunity to move himself and the furs around the fire while the Witcher was distracted.

He dumped the furs beside his ailing companion just as the sneeze that had been eluding him rose to the surface causing the Witcher to pitch to the side furthest away as it scraped along his throat. The sneeze more voice than the others had been thus far.

Hih'Eh!... H'AESSH! Ugh... Jaskier...wud are y-", Geralt made a face at his own congestion forgetting for a moment to admonish the bard for his proximity and tried to clear his throat to try again when Jaskier held a hand up to silence him.

"Bless you, oh and Take your own advice, Geralt", Jaskier said with a smile despite the overly dramatic moan that followed as he took the spot next to the Witcher and dragged the rest of the furs across their laps.

When the Witcher continued to level him with a questioning gaze the bard broke out in a laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder to brace himself as he replied. 

"Shut up".

[tiisshu]

G/eralt with: rainstorm ⛈, sneezes 🤧, colds 🦠, and cold medicine 💊 please

It had been a horrible season everywhere. 

No matter which part of the continent that Geralt traveled to for contracts always seemed to be enduring an onslaught of stormy weather. 

He was beginning to wonder if he had been cursed when he had arrived in a small fishing village to pick up a couple contracts on Drowners and it was, yet again, raining as if the sky had held back a great tide until this very moment.

It was as he was packing up the saddle bags on Roach when the slow and overwhelming pull of a tickle rose up at the back of his sinuses and brought forth tears unbidden to his eyes. 

He paused momentarily to grasp Roach’s saddle as he felt his breath catch and his chest swell with a mighty inhale. 

The tickle held fast and left him in a strange and agonizing purgatory until it finally reached it’s peak and his voice swooped sharply higher as he ducked into a punishing trio. 

HHh-! HAEE’SHOO! ..Hih’ESSSHIIIEW! Hh-! hih’ HAESSSH! Ughh…

He staggered slightly in the after math, the crease high on the bridge of his nose threatening a fourth before after long last the feeling faded, leaving the poor Witcher unsatisfied and sniffly. 

He heaved a sigh, one would have been easily explained away but three was almost unheard of. He gave Roach a thoughtful scratch behind the ear as he listened to the rain pounding on the stable’s roof. 

In the end, with a thick burbling sniffle, he decided it wasn’t worth the crowns a few Drowners would bring to go out in the storm as it was.

 He had a few herbs he could mix into a medicine to help expedite this process along, but he figured it would only take a day or two at most for his Witcher constitution to eradicate the virus.

“Looks like we ged the nighd off, eh Roach?”, he said, his voice catching as it scraped uncomfortably from his throat. He made a face and began to unsaddle her as he tried valiantly to hold back the tide of mucus that threatened to interfere. 

Just one more day…

[tiisshu]

another idea ~ Jaskier w the kink in close quarters w geralt?

                Yeah, why not.                   

         ……………………………

This was it, the tentative moment where they held their breaths and prayed to the Gods that the Leshen didn’t find them.

Geralt and Jaskier had been poking around some ruins out in the forests near Crow’s Perch in search of some gear said to be hidden there that had Geralt practically salivating. 

Jaskier had come along - well… he’d like to say for moral support but he could barely support his own magnificence and his morals were truly questionable affairs. To be truthful to himself, he’d come because of the larger man and his uh, current predicament.  

It had been a couple days since Geralt had succumbed to a virus that everyone- Jaskier had it a couple weeks ago- seemed to be coming down with. Luckily for the White Wolf his Witcher constitution greatly reduced the severity to merely a bad case of the sniffles.

Something Geralt felt was a non-issue, just a little vexing. Jaskier found it a practice of will power and already he felt the early flutter of his heart as he studied Geralt’s silent- and ridiculously close- face. 

The Leshen had them cornered in a washed out storm cellar where Geralt used his bulk to shield the opening and give them cover. Leshen’s had a harder time seeing them due to the specific Witcher Armor Geralt had donned that quarter. A very miraculous coincidence. 

They could hear the groaning creaks of the creature nearby as it slashed at the underbrush and overturned crates it found near the ruins. 

Jaskier swallowed nervously, anxious for them but torn by the desire to reach out and rub the itch that seemed to be bothering Geralt away. 

“Hhh! …hihh’…fuh..fuck”, Geralt breathed, it catching sharply and sweeping upward as his stuttered inhale sent his eyelashes fluttering as an intense tickle seemed to vibrate along sensitive tissue.

Jaskier felt like his heart was trying to leap up his throat which was in and of itself an odd sensation but it was laced with feelings of sheer wanting and terror, Be quiet heart, please!

The pressure surrounding them seemed to swell as the anticipation built along with the Witcher’s hitching breath, Jaskier swallowed hard and tried to think of literally ANYTHING than what was unfolding mere inches from him.

FInally, there was a moment when Geralt’s mouth dropped open, one edge of his lip revealing a canine as the itch seemed to reach the precipice and then…

“Hhh! … Hhng ’ngxxkt!”

Down snapped Geralt’s head in a tight movement, so as to not collide with Jaskier, in a blur of white. Somehow he had managed to contain the sound considerably, but it had left him horribly sniffly and bleary eyed. 

Jaskier almost choked on his saliva as an urge to reach out to the other man presented itself and when the Witcher raised his head and held those striking golden eyes on him. Assessing something Jaskier couldn’t see and he knew he was caught. 

There was no way Geralt couldn’t hear the way his pulse quickened or the way his pupils must be blown wide with the lust that crept uninvited down the Bardling’s spine creating warmth at his core.

Jaskier smiled nervously, “ I.. uh…”The leshen then roared triumphantly having finally spotted them, and kindly interrupted.