The world needs more feral!Geralt. Jaskier gets hurt or something and Geralt goes apeshit on everyone around them lol
“Get outta here, Witcher!” an old woman scowled. Her grandson, a fine young lad who would grow up to be just as calloused and jaded as she, lobbed a rather large rock in Geralt’s direction. He dodged it on instinct, not even thinking about the very fragile human who was being shielded by himself and his armor.
“Ah!” Jaskier cried out. Geralt spun to face the bard and found the palm of his pale hand clutched against the side of his head. Blood dripped from between his fingers to stain the apples of his cheeks and the collar of his doublet. His eyes were wide and watery, “G-Geralt I’m-”
“Hush, bard,” the Witcher soothed, backing them and Roach towards the woods and away from the angry mob that had gathered at the edge of town. Let the drowners have them. Let the forest swallow these people up, Geralt glared. “Let’s get some distance and set up camp. I need to take a look at that before you to go sleep.”
Another rock struck the bard on the shoulder, tearing the material of his jacket. Geralt snarled and pulled the steel sword from its scabbard without thinking. He took a few quick steps towards the gathered villagers and heard gasps of shock.
The Witcher was seeing red and he stormed forward again. A low growl continued to filter from the center of his chest and push the crowd back. He backed towards Jaskier again and gathered him beneath the arm that wasn’t carrying the sword.
“Let’s get you bandaged up. Then you’ll need to distract me so I don’t come back here and burn this place to the ground.”
Jaskier nuzzled against him and some of the rage faded away.
Some things were worth protecting over all else; Jaskier was certainly one of those things.