#witcher potions

[0dde11eth]

do you think that after witchers use their potions, it burns when they pee? like, it has to filter out, and exit their body, and their potions are essentially pure poison

yes it burns

nah it's normal

other?

Voting ended onAug 5, 2024

[ahh-fxck]

Potion eyes potion eyes potion eyes!!!!

[ialwayscomewhenyoucall]

Kiss, Please..

He woke

to the smell of grass

and flowering trees

and sunlight

on his face.

Jask?

Geralt struggled to sit up

but strong hands

held him down.

Was that Jaskier?

Was Jaskier

strong enough

to hold him

down?

He must have been hit

hard.

A soft

relieved

sigh.

Jaskier.

(Geralt knew

his sighs)

Stay down

please.

Whatever you were

fighting—

Alghoul.

Geralt winced

at the pain

in his head.

—knocked you

a good one

and you lost

a lot of blood.

I tried

to get you to swallow some…

Swallow...

but you wouldn’t take anything

while you were unconscious.

Not even water.

You up for it now?

Geralt nodded,

groaned.

He hurt.

Easy now

darling.

Jaskier tipped the potion

into Geralt’s mouth.

It tasted foul

but he could feel

the effects

almost

immediately.

Kiss.

Even low speech

hurt;

his throat

felt like he’d been swallowing

rocks

instead of

potions.

(had he been screaming?)

Kiss?

Jaskier’s voice

was an octive

higher

than usual.

The potion.

Geralt fought

to keep from smiling.

Jaskier searched

the saddlebag

for the Kiss.

Right.

The potion.

Kiss.

Of course.

You Witchers

and your sense of

humour…

The Kiss

was almost

as bad

as the Swallow

but he felt it working,

surging through his veins.

A little stronger

he caught

Jaskier

by the hand.

Widened his eyes

the smallest bit.

(Jaskier would notice)

Now the

other

kiss,

bard.

He felt better

already.

NaPoWriMo day 22.1 - geralt/jaskier, kiss

[drachedraws]

Another page from the witchers alchemical notebook

[zriviepotions]

Superior White Honey

Superior White Honey

2 oz honeysuckle vodka

3/4 oz myrtle-date simple syrup*

1/2 oz fresh lemon juice

4-5 spritzes butterfly pea-lemon zest hydrosol**

Tiny pinch of blue edible glitter

*combine ½ c water and ½ c sugar in a small saucepan. Add in 1-2 dried dates and 3-4 tbsp dried myrtle leaves. Heat on medium-high until sugar is dissolved, then turn off heat and let it sit covered for a few hours.

**I used this guide to make a hydrosol with 3c dried butterfly pea flowers and around 1 tbsp fresh lemon zest.

My initial plan for this one was to infuse the vodka with butterfly pea, but here’s the problem - white honey is... not dark purple. Or blue. Or pink. Butterfly pea flowers are SO FULL OF COLOUR, y’all. I tried a very quick infusion but even then it was just too much. I do think I’ll end up with some recipes that don’t look like their in-game counterparts, but I want to find a way to avoid that as much as possible. So, infusing the vodka is out. Simple syrup also comes out very colourful. That’s out. I’ve been interested in trying to make hydrosols for a few years but it always felt intimidating. I happen to have an excess of butterfly pea flowers, though, so I decided to give it a go. It was honestly so easy! You’ll probably see hydrosols pop up again xx

[awitcheress]

Recommendations for fics where Geralt is horny af, hopped up on potions and Jaskier helps. Preferably a first time scenario....

@0dde11eth @darklyhandsome

Spread the word help.

Here's one I found by @multiplelizards that ticks all the boxes....

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Thanks to those who responded to this post. Gonna check those out too!!!

[dreamofbecoming]

ok so i’ve been having trouble getting into a writing mood lately, so i’m hoping that posting something unfinished will help motivate me. this is the first part of a 5+1 witcher potions fic i’m writing inspired by this incredible post, let me know what y’all think! or just yell at me to keep writing, that might work too. i’ve got this one all planned out, and i’m really pumped about it, it’s just the Making Words part that’s giving me trouble

~~

ao3

wc: 2800+

~~

1) Kiss

Jask is wrestling with a particularly tricky bit of scansion when Geralt stumbles out of the woods, so he almost doesn’t notice him at first.

“Jask.”

He whips his head up at the wavering tone, so unlike the strong, gravelly baritone he’s become accustomed to over the last few months. Geralt is listing, slumped against a tree at the edge of the camp, one arm held tight over the bleeding gash in his stomach. Jaskier can see blood welling between his fingers where he’s holding the flesh closed.

Jaskier is on his feet in an instant, lute forgotten in the dirt behind him. His hands flutter uselessly around Geralt’s middle, terrified of touching him and making it worse. He can feel his breathing picking up, growing shallow.

He’s seen Geralt injured before, of course. They’ve been traveling together (or, rather, Jaskier has been dogging Geralt’s heels and refusing to be shaken off, but it’s the same difference, really) off and on for nearly two seasons now, with autumn nearing its end. He’s seen him bloody and sweaty and bruised. He’s seen him bathe; he’s seen the patchwork of scars that decorate Geralt’s skin, knows each one marks a place where a wound was too deep to heal without help.

(He’s even seen Geralt with pitch-black eyes and paper-white skin and spiderweb veins all over his face, although he didn’t think he was supposed to—he had gotten bored and maybe a little worried waiting at the inn like he was ordered, so he wandered out in the direction the alderman had pointed Geralt that morning, only to see his friend returning from the woods, gore-dripping monster head in hand, eyes as black as a moonless night. He had gone back to the inn without calling out, operating on some strange instinct, and had a bath drawn. By the time Geralt returned, he looked the same as he always did (which is to say, gorgeous). Jaskier hadn’t brought up what he’d seen, and Geralt only grunted his thanks for the bath. It never came up again.)

He’s a witcher, after all. Getting injured is his business. Wounds that would fell a mortal man are to Geralt like Jaskier’s lute calluses, irritating and painful to achieve, but necessary to do his job correctly. So this shouldn’t be so terrifying.

Except it is, because Geralt is paler than Jaskier has ever seen him, and his eyes are glassy, and his legs are wobbling like they can barely hold him, and the blood spilling over his fingers isn’t showing any sign of slowing, and Jaskier doesn’t know what the fuck to do.

“Fuck! Geralt! Gods, what happened? Do you need to sit? Fuck, shit, you need a healer! I don’t know how to get you to a healer. Can you get on Roach? What can I do?”

The hand not holding Geralt’s guts closed clamps onto one of Jaskier’s flailing wrists, stopping his frantic babble for a moment.

“’S’okay, Jask. ‘M’okay. Need…”

“What, Geralt, what do you need? I’ll do whatever you need, I’ll help however I can, just tell me how to fix it!”

“Kiss.”

Jaskier goes very still.

“...What?”

“Need...Kiss. Hurry, Jask. Kiss.”

“I...Geralt, are you sure?” Jaskier is well aware that his interest in the witcher is less than subtle, but Geralt has pointedly never reciprocated, or responded to any of his many advances. It bruised his ego, some, at first, but Geralt’s presence in his life—professional, platonic, or otherwise—is the most compelling force he’s ever encountered, and he’ll gladly take the rejection if it means being allowed to stay by his side.

Then again, maybe this isn’t a deathbed confession of feelings, but something else entirely. Jaskier knows curses can be cured by kisses, sometimes. Granted, those usually specify True Love’s Kiss, but maybe it still works if the love is one-sided? Jaskier may be young, but he knows that how he feels for Geralt is different from the others he’s fallen for over the years, and while it would be a little embarrassing to know that Geralt is aware that Jaskier’s feelings are strong enough to break a curse even if he doesn’t feel anything back, he’d rather be embarrassed with Geralt than prideful without him. And sure, that gash doesn’t look magical at all, but Jaskier knows little of magic, and he trusts Geralt’s judgement.

If a kiss is what he needs to stay whole and hale, then a kiss he shall have, and never mind Jaskier’s broken heart.

The moment their lips meet, he can feel Geralt go stiff with surprise. Maybe he didn’t think Jaskier would be willing to save him this way? That hurts a little, but he presses his lips to Geralt’s a bit harder, partly to reassure him that he isn’t going anywhere, and partly because he’s reasonably certain that this is the only chance he’ll get to do this, so he might as well make it one to remember.

He lets his mouth fall open a little, savoring the way he and Geralt slot together like puzzle pieces as Geralt starts to kiss back. He can feel his witcher relaxing under his hands, sinking into him like a warm bath, and he revels in it.

Wait, no, hang on, he’s not sinking into Jaskier. He’s just sinking.

Geralt’s legs go out from under him and the kiss breaks. The wound, to Jaskier’s dismay, looks as bad as before, and Geralt is even paler now. Jaskier catches him as best he can, trying to lower him gently against the tree without jostling his injury too much, but from the pained grunts Geralt lets out, he isn’t sure how well it works.

Geralt stares at him, eyes wide and wondering even through the glazed effects of blood loss.

“Geralt! Shit, Geralt, I’m sorry, I thought that was what you needed, that was supposed to help! Oh, hells, what do I do now! Stay awake, darling, please don’t go to sleep. Don’t leave me, Geralt. Tell me what to do! Tell me how to fix you! Please!” He’s nearly weeping now, almost blind with terror. He can’t lose Geralt. He isn’t ready. He hasn’t had enough time, this isn’t fair!

“Potion. Kiss potion…pink and…blue…blood loss…” Geralt slurs before promptly passing out.

Jaskier’s mind goes entirely blank for a moment.

Kiss. Was a potion. A potion called Kiss. For blood loss, apparently.

Well, that settles it. Jaskier is going to find the potion, give it to Geralt, clean up his wounds as best he can, and then, when he’s completely sure that Geralt is going to survive, he’ll walk himself right off the nearest cliff.

Yes, that is an extremely sensible plan. With his action steps decided, he goes immediately to where Geralt had left Roach’s tack that afternoon when he set off on his hunt, rifling through them in search of anything matching Geralt’s admittedly sparse description.

Roach snuffles at his hair in concern, an act so devoid of her usual malice that, in any other circumstance, he would leap for joy. He’s still hovering on the edge of insensibility though, the panic held at bay only by the barest layer of necessity. He always has been good in a crisis, so he has that going for him at least.

Shame he won’t get to show off his cool head under pressure ever again, considering he plans to die of humiliation just as soon as he’s sure Geralt’s life is no longer in danger.

“He’s going to be fine, sweet girl, don’t worry. What could possibly take our witcher down, hm? Nothing at all, that’s what. He’s just being dramatic. I hope you’ll give him a suitable amount of shit for scaring us like this later. He certainly deserves it.” He runs a shaking hand down her nose, ignoring how his voice is weak and a bit thready. He’ll be fine. He has to be.

He goes back to rummaging through the packs, muttering to himself. “Does he not sort these at all? How does he find anything? Half of these are in opaque vials, you absolute cumberground, if you weren’t dying I’d smack you right upside your gorgeous head. Who raised you to keep your things like this? You’re never allowed to complain about my disorganization ever again if you survive this mess, you bastard, and you had better survive. If you die I’ll find a mage just to bring you back so I can kill you myself. ‘Kiss, Jaskier! Hurry, Jaskier!’ Never mind you never taught me anything useful, too busy trying to scare me into leaving. Bet you’re glad I stuck around now, you utter walnut. Melitele’s pendulous tits, how many kinds of fucking potions do you have in here?! How am I supposed to—aha! Pink and blue! Wow, it really is both, that’s fascinating. I wonder what makes it like that?”

He’s cut off by an impatient snort from Roach, who is hovering over his shoulder anxiously.

“Right, quite right, darling girl, my apologies. Let’s get our idiot taken care of.”

It takes a bit of finessing to figure out how to get an unconscious Geralt to swallow the potion, but it’s more than worth it when the bleeding slows to a stop almost immediately and the edges of the slash marks start to go pink before his eyes. Jaskier nearly faints with relief.

Despite the marvels of witcher healing, the wound isn’t closing fast enough for Jaskier’s comfort, and Geralt is still out cold, so he fishes out the catgut and bandages from Geralt’s pack, along with the good vodka Jaskier keeps in the bottom of his pack and a skin of clean water, and sets about cleaning and stitching the wound. Geralt’s skin may be covered in scars already, but there’s no need for this one to be any larger or more uncomfortable than absolutely necessary. He makes a note to buy Shani a drink the next time he’s in Oxenfurt, as thanks for the first aid lessons she insisted on giving him before he set out on the road.

--

When Geralt finally wakes, the sun has long since gone down, and Jaskier is sitting by the fire, struggling to mend the tear in Geralt’s leather hauberk. His tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth as he tries to wrestle what Geralt can clearly tell is the wrong size needle through the fabric.

Jaskier’s head snaps up as soon as he hears the soft groan Geralt lets out as he tries to sit up, and he sets the armor down gently (far more carefully than he dropped his lute this afternoon, Geralt notes blearily) and rushes to his side.

“Careful, if you sit up too fast you’ll rip your stitches. How do you feel? Any pain? Are you thirsty? Of course you are, you lost a lake’s worth of blood. I’ll grab you some water, hang on, don’t move.” All of this is, of course, said too quickly for Geralt to respond at any point, and by the time he sorts out answers to all of Jaskier’s questions he’s already across the camp fetching a waterskin.

“Sorry, I should have had this ready for you, but I had to empty them both cleaning your wound and then your armor, and I only just refilled them an hour ago before the light disappeared. How are you feeling?” To his credit, he does quiet this time long enough for Geralt to rinse the rancid taste of Kiss out of his mouth before emptying half the skin in a single pull.

“I’m fine, Jaskier. I’m...sorry, if I upset you.” He knows there’s more to be said, but he doesn’t know where to start, so it’s easier to just...not.

“Upset me? Oh no, dear witcher, you didn’t upset me, you scared the absolute piss out of me! And Roach! She was beside herself, poor thing!” Geralt casts a glance across the camp to where his horse is stripping a patch of clover. Her ears twitch at the sound of her name, but she pointedly turns away from them, refusing to so much as acknowledge Geralt. Jaskier’s telling the truth, then, she really is annoyed with him.

His hand drifts to his belly, where, last he checked, his insides had been a hair’s breadth from being on his outsides, thanks to an unlucky swipe of the griffin’s back claws. He’s somewhat surprised to find, instead, a line of unpracticed but meticulous stitches, itchy but not painful or swollen. It seems the bard was serious about having patched him up. He’s reluctantly impressed. He hums vaguely, before conceding that the boy does deserve more than that after all the work he put in tonight.

“I—thank you, Jaskier. For helping me. Your stitches, um. Aren’t bad. You can leave the armor to me, though. I, hm. I appreciate it.” That’s plenty effusive, right? Jaskier would be content with that. And if not, well. Blame it on the blood loss, he supposes.

Jaskier blushes, stammering a little, uncharacteristically. “Well, yes. Indeed. Quite right! You’re very welcome, my dear witcher. Don’t you dare go nearly dying on me again, understand? Roach would never forgive me.”

His memories of returning from the hunt are fuzzy, which means he must have lost more blood than he realized. He wouldn’t have been able to bounce back from a wound like that without at least a dose of Kiss, and probably Swallow too, but he distinctly remembers the moment early on in the fight when the griffin tossed him to the ground at the exact right angle to smash the vials he had slipped into his pockets before leaving camp. So how did he...

The memories return all at once, slotting into place as he recalls exactly how he had definitely scared the boy off for good this time. It explains the blush on his cheeks, certainly, though why he’s still within a mile of their camp Geralt can’t fathom. After the shitshow that was this afternoon, he should have run the first chance he got. Maybe he really did think Geralt was dying, and felt guilty leaving him before he woke? In that case, he should have started making his excuses by now, surely.

“Jaskier, I—”

“I want you to teach me about your potions.”

Geralt blinks. “You want me to what?”

Jaskier sets his shoulders, jutting his chin out defiantly in a way that’s obviously meant to make him look strong and determined, but mostly just reminds Geralt how painfully young he is.

“Your potions. I want to learn them. What they’re called, what they do, how to make them. You almost died today, Geralt, because I didn’t know how to save you. That can’t happen again. I can’t let it.”

Floored and bewildered, Geralt surreptitiously tries to sniff the air. There’s a faint odor of lust, which at this point Geralt has become so used to he nearly tunes it out. The boy is eighteen, that can’t really be held against him. There’s embarrassment, which Geralt imagines is probably from being tricked into kissing a monster, since even horny teenaged humans must have standards. Determination is prominent, telling Geralt he isn’t going to let this go easily. Mostly, there’s fear.

Geralt is used to fear-scent, he’s long since learned to expect it from every human he crosses paths with. He’s certainly earned it this time, given that he practically assaulted the poor boy while bleeding all over him. Still, it stings a little, to smell fear from Jaskier for the very first time. He’s never smelled afraid, not once. Not of Geralt, or of the monsters he hunts, or of the humans who could (and likely will) choose to shun him for choosing to travel with a Butcher. Geralt has been wondering if maybe something is broken in the little songbird’s head, if maybe he isn’t capable of feeling fear, but now that clearly isn’t the case.

Still, there’s something off about the smell of Jaskier’s fear. It takes a few moments of awkward silence before he realizes why it’s so different from the way humans normally smell around him—it’s plain fear. There’s no disgust, no revulsion. Jaskier isn’t repulsed by him, he’s afraid...for him? That feels absurd, but Geralt doesn’t know what else to make of it.

“Well?”

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. “Hm?”

“Are you going to teach me how to do your potions or not, Geralt?”

He stares for a long moment, trying to memorize Jaskier’s face and scent as it is right now. When the boy inevitably gets bored or scared and leaves him, he wants to hold onto this memory, of a human who cares this much about learning how to protect a monster. Chances are he’ll come to his senses over the winter, and Geralt will never see him again after they part ways this year, but it can’t hurt to humor him for now.

“Alright. If we meet again next year, I’ll teach you.”

[coffee-mage-sans-caffeine]

Pupils and vision: Side effects of Cat Potion in the Witcher

Hi!  I’m your friendly neighbourhood nurse and today I was thinking about ‘ways you can fuck Geralt up with his potions in fiction!’  So I’m making a series of posts.  If you want to know about a specific thing, drop me an ask so I can order my thoughts. So we all know and love witcher potions.  They’re cool as hell.  They make Geralt’s eyes go black and his skin all black veins and he looks freaky as fuck.  But honestly, guys, we don’t lean into what they’re like for Geralt enough and I’d like to give a few insights based on real-world medical shit. Today we’re gonna focus on Cat.  When Geralt takes at least some of his potions, his eyes go black, and the books are very clear that his dark night vision potion does this.  His pupils are dilating super fully (I’ll talk about his sclera at some other time because I gotta handwave some stuff for that and talk about some wild shit) and the pupil is leaving only the thinnest rim of iris there.  What is this like for him?  We’re looking at a whole bunch of irritation and maybe some hallucinations for fun!

Well, first we have to talk about belladonna, one of the plants that could really work to make this happen.

If you’ve ever had your eyes dilated at the eye doctor, you know that everything gets painfully bright and it’s hard to focus your eyeballs because of it.  Things are kind of hazy and unreal if there’s too much light and your eyes sting a lot.  We use an actual real life plant to do this: Belladonna.  The drops you’re given for dilating eyes are called atropine (that’s one of the active ingredients in belladonna) and we use them for other things as well because atropine does some other stuff that’s pretty fucking awesome.  (I’ll probably do a whole post on the myriad uses of atropine sometime soon.  Because fuck yeah atropine.) Belladonna is also called banewort and apparently both are used in translations of the Witcher stories.  Regis apparently makes booze infused with belladonna, while according to the wiki, the book version of Cat actually uses banewort!  In the story “The Witcher” in the US edition of the Last Wish collection, banewort, monkshood, and eyebright are the main components of a potion that does what Cat does in the video games (I have no idea if the potion is named Cat in the books or not).  This makes sense.  Belladonna (banewort) opens up the pupil to let more light in.  Monkshood is dangerous as hell so we don’t use it in medicine at least where I’m from but it is purported to improve circulation and decrease pain.  In eyedrop form, homeopaths market it as a way to improve eye inflammation and pain but PLEASE don’t do this.  This Tumblr is anti-homeopathy due to evidence, but that’s its own rant.  Eyebright is used in folk medicine (I can’t find evidence of an active ingredient or any sign that this is actually true so I am gonna assume even witchers are prone to the placebo effect) to alleviate eye fatigue.  Sapkowski clearly put some thought into this, so I’m going to focus on the book evidence I’ve found for the contents of Cat since the varying versions found in the games make only limited sense to me with the exception of the fact that ergot (which contains alkaloids similar to atropine) kind of works like belladonna and is an ingredient used to make the ingredients for making Cat in games 1 and 2.  But we’re focussing on the three plants from the books since I’m sure you don’t want to read fifty pages. This combination of plants means that the ‘too much light’ effect isn’t the only thing Geralt’s going to feel on Cat.  I’m honestly kiiiind of surprised that Cat isn’t an eyedrop.  Based on the ingredients there’s not much reason to take it orally, and it would be a way more efficient use of resources to use it directly on the eyball but hey.  Why the fuck not make it cooler (and harder on Geralt’s body) by having him swallow it for systemic effects?  Aren’t we here for some whump? Let’s talk about Geralt’s body.

When atropine touches your oral mucosa (the wet skin inside your mouth) it absorbs incredibly quickly and dries out all your spit.  We use atropine drops under the tongue of patients who can’t handle having spit in their mouths because they’ll choke or inhale their oral secretions.  (Ergot, incidentally, often causes dry mouth.) So Geralt, on Cat, has an epically dry mouth.  Like put him in front of a dust cloud and he can’t even make enough spit to clear the dust from his mouth.  Once absorbed systemically, it’s also going to speed up his heart a bit, unless his mutations prevent that somehow or unless we consider our friend monkshood (we’ll get there in a second).   His body may also lose its ability to sweat, which has the great side effect of making him less stinky after a big fight (if you’re not into the real gross sex) but uh, also, sweating is how we thermoregulate.  Let’s hope Geralt’s mutations give him the ability to be just fine at a wider range of temperatures or that our buddy monkshood can counteract this.  He’s pale as hell so he might also go really red because his body will push blood to the surface of his skin to try and cool it off.   You know how I said that Geralt’s pretty dry?  That goes for all holes, friends, not just his pores!  Let’s hope Geralt didn’t have much to eat or drink before taking Cat.  Atropine can make it hard or impossible to pee or poop.  This means his bladder might get distended and I suggest that we not stick anything in his butthole unless that’s your kink.  Because unless he went to take care of business right before he took Cat, oopsies.  What’s in there isn’t coming out to make room for things to go in. Of course, we need to talk about our friend monkshood, aka aconite.  One of its most toxic effects is that it paralyses the respiratory centre and the cardiac muscle.  In other words, Geralt’s breathing may slow and the atropine and the aconite are going to battle for whether his heart beats real fast or slows down.  This sounds to me like a recipe for some cardiac arrhythmias that might make him a little lightheaded especially when you consider that you can kill a whole-ass human adult with 2g (0.07 oz) of fresh monkshood.  Even if Geralt has some resistances to toxins, this plant is REAL FUCKING TOXIC.  Remember how atropine makes you stop sweating and get hot?  Well.  Aconite likes to do the opposite.  It likes to make you sweat a lot.  So we might get a whole mess of ‘sweating/not sweating’ in flashes while the nervous system tries to process these two competing things.  Vomiting is a real big thing with aconite and nausea/vomiting are real big symptoms of constipation (see: atropine).  So I’m guessing Geralt doesn’t get hungry and may actually get nauseated enough to throw up from this combo.  Sure, he might not do it during battle when he’s got adrenaline fucking things up even more, but coming down off this trip isn’t going to be a good time.   Aconite might correct the urinary retention, but since we don’t use it in modern medicine very much (if at all), I don’t have enough info to figure out if it was used as a diuretic in traditional medicines because of its effect on the kidney or its effect on the bladder so I’m still leaning on the atropine for this one and thinking Geralt can’t pee very well.

Then we move on to our friend eyebright.  No active ingredients to do much as far as I can see from reading a couple papers, but there are reports of toxicity causing nausea, vomiting, and constipation.  It might cause trouble breathing and, just because we all love a Geralt who’s screaming that he can’t sleep while Jaskier tells him to take a nap, there are reports of it causing insomnia!  So it’s real fun for our insomniac witcher. Shall we move on to the mental effects?  Cool!  Eyebright, aconite, and atropine can all cause confusion.  Let’s hope he’s REAL good at dosing himself and that he doesn’t have to think about anything heavy and complex.  Both aconite and atropine can cause agitation. Atropine is good at causing visual hallucinations, especially when the eyes are closed, as well as sleep disturbances.  So Geralt tries to take a nap after this fight and he trips balls.  It can also cause auditory hallucinations, though I can’t find a lot of indications of what form that takes.  It’s more likely, based on my experience with people experiencing medication-induced auditory hallucinations, to be tones and other sounds of that nature rather than speech sounds.   Aconite is interesting from a hallucination perspective because the most widely reported aconite-related hallucination I can find is a tactile hallucination of being covered in hair or fur.  Interesting, hm? So yeah, if you want to fuck Geralt up, just give him Cat.  I’m sure he’ll be fine.