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Prompt 62

After multiple run-ins with sirens and similar creatures, a town has outlawed music, and finds bards to be the spawns of the (metaphorical) devil. Geralt and Jaskier ride into a small rural town, and Geralt tells Jaskier to find them a room and stay in it while he goes on a hunt. Jaskier decides to try and earn them more money by performing! Thus Geralt comes back from his hunt only to hear his bard is about to be executed, and must race to save him. Jaskier is just surprised this is only the second worst reception he's gotten to performing in a backwater town.

Prompt 113

"And I was thinking-" "Oh yes. I understand." "Mhm." "Which one?" "..." "You're right, that one IS better." "Do you know what I'm thinking?" "Of course I do." Geralt and Jaskier had conversations like these ALL the time. How could you not when you were as close as they were? Jaskier knew when Geralt's eyes did that one specific narrow and eyebrow raise routine that Geralt was judging someone nearby, it was silent gossip! And he knows that when Geralt rolls his eyes but his mouth quirks a little to the left side that Geralt is "reluctantly" allowing Jaskier to buy frivolous things with their money. Geralt knows that when Jaskier starts rambling softer that he's already made a decision and is just unsure of it, which means that Geralt just has to nod or shake his head in either approval or disapproval, and that's it. Geralt also knows the specific hand-through-hair onto hands on hips onto sleeve fidget that means Jaskier is well and truly frustrated or worried. Just one of them is fine, two in a row is worrying in some contexts, all three and Geralt's alarm bells ring. Unfortunately, it appears that not everyone has been close enough to someone to learn how to read them so efficiently as they both had. For they were both currently kidnapped and held hostage by a man who desperately wants to harness their alleged ability to speak to each other telepathically.

Prompt 120

PROMPTAPALOOZA BEGINS... In place of August Eighth, Prompt 1/??? lol I'll check later 10-ish prompts from my promptapalooza backlogs are smacking you in the face today! From 120-130! Special thanks to @bakewrite for being so supportive of me, especially during the makings of promptapalooza :) Geralt hates fighting sorceresses. He hates it even more when he has to do so with Jaskier nearby. "Jaskier, I told you to fucking run!" He growls at the bard in between slashes of his sword, and the wretched woman he's fighting raises up in interest. "Oh?" She coos, and slaps a hand onto Geralt's head, and then everything goes dark. Jaskier watches in horror as some sort of magical scary witchy blast shoots into Geralt's fucking head, and alright, maybe he screams a little, but she already knew he was there so it's not like he gave away his position! Geralt falls to the ground, and the sorceress turns to look at Jaskier with an ominous grin. "Do you like it? It's my favorite one to cast... But I thought it could never work on a Witcher. They've no feelings." "Why, you-" "Hush, bard. I know now that I was wrong. That's why I'm so excited." Jaskier glances between her and Geralt repeatedly, before doing what Geralt always tells him NOT to do, he walks closer. "What have you done to him?" "A spell that makes him kill who he loves most. And if someone were to stop him from doing so, they'll be killed too. I, personally, am hoping for a violent breakdown after he realizes what he's done. Perhaps he'll go on another rampage like in Blav-" "That's not what happened!" "Tsk tsk. You're spending too much time defending your Witcher and not nearly enough time running, Bard." And with that, she disappears in a cloud of smoke. Jaskier frantically inspects Geralt. He's relatively uninjured, thank meletele- Geralt's eyes suddenly snap open, and he grabs Jaskier's wrist in a bruising grip. "Aow- Geralt-" Jaskier cries out in confusion, before remembering what the sorceress said. His eyes widen and he desperately tries to distance himself from Geralt, but he won't let go of his wrist. "Geralt- Geralt, please stop! It hurts! Geralt, come on! Snap out of it!" Jaskier pleads, but Geralt won't let go, and the grip is getting tighter. Jaskier hears something snap before he feels any pain, and he panics. He lifts a leg and kicks Geralt in the face. Geralt lets go with a snarl, and Jaskier runs to Roach. Jaskier knows there's no way he can outrun Geralt, but if he takes their horse, he just might be able to put enough distance in between them for him to figure out how to heal Geralt before Geralt snaps any more bones. He looks down at the hand with the injured wrist and sighs. No lute for a while, he supposes. No matter. Geralt is more important.

Prompt 123

In place of August Eleventh, Promptapalooza 4/ If you ask Jaskier, dimensional spells were a bitch. That sorcerer was a twat! Blasting him and Geralt with his stupid cursed amulet boosting his stupid powers stupid man making his witcher all frustrated and sad! "Damn it!" Geralt snarls as they appear in a... Very small room. It's pitch black. "Don't fret, Geralt, there'll be a way out, I'm sure-" "Just- Shut up for a moment, Jaskier." "Right! Shutting up right away! Just as soon as I-" "Jaskier!" Jaskier huffs, and begins blindly feeling for some way out of the room. He feels a stick and gasps with excitement. "Oh, Geralt!" He swings the object around blindly until he hears the unmistakable sound of the bristles of a broom smacking directly into the side of Geralt's head. "Jaskier." "Sorry! Didn't mean to! Though you must admit, it's kind of humorous in it's own way-" *growling* "Alright maybe it isn't! Gods." Suddenly brightness blinds them as someone yanks the door open. "Can you damn kids stop trying to fuck in my supply closet!?" A man in weird clothing yells at them. Jaskier stammers a bit trying to think of like, any response, before Geralt just drags him out by the arm. They're in a bright building, with white walls that don't... appear to be stone or wood? And there's SO many people around. And they're all dressed... similarly to them. "Dude! Nice contacts!" A man in black with white hair says to Geralt. "I love your Jaskier outfit, did you make it yourself?" "Um no, I bought it." Jaskier says, to a man who looks remarkably like himself. "..Um, where are we?" Jaskier asks the man, and the man stares for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle. "Ohh! Yeah, it's easy to get lost. You're by the signing booths. What are you looking for? Merch? Photo-ops? Cosplay contest?" "A contest?" Jaskier asks, with excitement. "Yeah! Over who did the best cosplay of The Witcher! Are you going to enter as a Dandelion/Jaskier?" "Yes, I am!~" Geralt is desperately trying to find a way back to his own dimension, waiting for Yennefer to open a portal to find them, but it gets confusing when there's at least forty women AND MEN here dressed exactly like her. Jaskier meanwhile is busy throwing a tantrum over getting second in some contest, but Geralt is more worried for their lives, thank you very much. "SECOND PLACE! In a contest over who looks like me, I got SECOND place, Geralt!"

Prompt 125

In place of August Thirteenth, Promptapalooza 6/

Geralt has a contract but won't tell Jaskier anything about it. Nothing. "Geralt, come on! Is it big? Is it small? Does it have fangs? Is it venomous?" "Jaskier, just stop asking." "But how am I meant to be safe enough to gather inspiration if you won't even tell me what to look out for?" "Because you'll be staying here. Away from the hunt." "Wh- What?" It's been years since Geralt refused Jaskier's involvement in a hunt. "It's too dangerous." Jaskier stares at him a moment before just sighing and nodding. "You'd think he'd tell you of the dangers if he didn't want you to go for your own safety." Jaskier thinks, though it doesn't sound like his own voice. "Can't you tell me something about the creature if I can't come with?" "No, Jaskier." "He doesn't want to talk to you." Jaskier shakes the thought out of his head. "Just play for the bargoers again if you need something to do. I'll be back before sunup." And without further ado, Geralt grabs his supplies and stomps out. "They hated your last set, though, didn't they? You've put so much effort into pursuing this dream of yours, just to get vegetables and stale bread thrown at you. Only to get cursed off stages. Is that what you wanted? When you became a bard? When you left home? Did you risk your life to leave just to be stuck with an audience that doesn't want to listen?" Jaskier shakes his head. Stop. Stop thinking about this. "Not even Geralt listens to you. Your only friend. The only person who manages to deal with you doesn't even want to hear you." Jaskier starts tidying their inn room in a panic. He needs to get his mind off the sudden turn for the worst his thoughts are partaking in. Usually only things got this bad after a bad fight with Geralt. Then Geralt would apologize and- "But did he ever really mean it? Or does he just do it to placate you? The little overemotional bard weighing him down, dragging him back, ruining his li-" "BOOK. I- I need to read a book." Jaskier fumbles for something to read to try and get something new in his attention, but he can't even make out a sentence. The thoughts are getting louder. "Is there even a contract or did he just finally leave you behind? Jaskier's vision blurs and suddenly he realizes it's tears. He rubs his face vigorously to get rid of them. He'd hate for Geralt to come back and find him bawling. "That's when he'd leave you for sure. Pitiful excuse for a companion, crying because of his own thoughts. Geralt would be so annoyed. You're nothing but a burden to him. He hates you." Jaskier grabs his lute and hurriedly begins strumming the worst tune he's ever made in his life, because he just needs something louder than the thoughts. He just needs to hear something but the thoughts. "He'll never love you back. You stay, and you keep hoping, but he'll never love you." Jaskier drops his lute and covers his ears, starting to sob in earnest. "He's been gone too long. He ditched you. He took Roach and he left you. The pebble in his shoe. The constant irritation. You're nothing to him. You're a speck of mud dirtying his life. He begs the gods every night to be rid of you. Everyone begs the gods to be rid of you. Everyone wishes you'd just shrivel up and die. The useless bard." "Stop- Stopstopstop-" "All anyone wants is to fuck you, but is it because you're desirable or is it because you're just that easy? Like a damned cat in heat. They always leave you come morning, anyways. Even the ones you begged to stay. Even the ones you wanted something more with. Nobody wants you to stay. Nobody likes your voice, your supposed 'talents', nobody likes your looks, nobody likes your personality, nobody likes your soul, nobody wants your love, you're a crumbling stone about to bring down a whole tower. And every other stone will hate you for it. They'll hate you. They'll fucking HATE you. They all HATE you. Geralt HATES you. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you." "JASKIER!" Jaskier blinks his eyes open

and sees Geralt kneeling in front of him, holding Jaskier's face in his big, calloused hands. "Jaskier, stop listening to it!"

Geralt had gone after a creature that infects people's minds, speaks horrible things into their thoughts until the person is driven crazy. He couldn't risk bringing Jaskier to be infected by it. And he couldn't risk telling Jaskier, because Jaskier would be paranoid of it infecting Geralt and he'd come along anyways, and the monster would sense Jaskier's fear, it'd burrow into him in a milisecond. Geralt's never been angrier for being right, before. He just thought Jaskier was safe here. But he came back and saw the undeniable symptoms of the monster. Pure black tears coming down Jaskier's cheeks as he sobs and begs an unseen force to 'shut up'. Geralt will kill this damned creature, and make it sorry for distressing his bard. And then he'll spend the night holding his bard close, and whispring every reassurance and praise he can think of.