Kill Your Darlings (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader)

Chapter 18

Time was slow.

Maybe it was because your adrenaline was dying down. Maybe it was because you just realized the bard next to you was not just...a bard. But sitting in the bandit camp you and Geralt and Jaskier had just cleared out, you were feeling anything but anxious, anything but worried. You were feeling...content.

You practically smiled to yourself as Jaskier reapplied bandages to your wounds. He had found supplies in the camp and immediately offered to help you, despite the fact that you could very easily do it yourself. But still, you let him.

His hands worked carefully as he wrapped the wound on your leg. It was looking better than when you had first got it, which was a plus. But right now, you were focused on his fingers, on the way they moved so particularly, almost like he was playing his lute. It was like every movement of his was calculated and purposeful, and the slight grazes of his fingertips on your skin felt that way as well. You had to practically pray to the gods that he didn't notice the flustered expression on your face that you so desperately tried to conceal.

"There," he said, finally tying the bandage so it didn't undo the work he did. "That should hold for a while longer."

You blinked and rolled down your pants, slightly disoriented now that he wasn't as close to you anymore, "Right. Thanks."

As soon as Jaskier's touch wasn't on your skin, your mind flooded with thoughts you were trying to push away. Your mind first went to Hotch. He was a disgusting man, willing to do anything for revenge — even killing his own wife. He would have hurt a little girl at the chance of getting back at the man who seduced his lover; even though you knew he was crazy, you couldn't help but connect his actions with your own. Despite hating him for what he did — and might have done if you hadn't killed him — at one point, you did the same. Your whole life you were raised to hurt those who hurt others, in hope that it would fill the hole that was left after your father murdered your mother.

And then you met Jaskier. But honestly, that didn't change anything. If anything, it made it worse. You would do anything for Jaskier, and had done anything for him. You killed Joneta. It seemed like so long ago that you had...ended her life, but it was only the other day. And you wouldn't stop there. You would do anything for Jaskier, to get back at those who wronged him. So how did that make you any different from monsters like Hotch?

"What are you thinking about?" Jaskier's voice broke your thoughts, making you turn to him. As usual, his eyes bore into your own with an intensity that you still weren't used to. Maybe you wouldn't have told him if he wasn't looking at you that way. But of course, you did.

You let out a small breath, "Hotch."

"What about him?"

You shifted in your spot, keeping your eyes just to the side of Jaskier's face."He was...blinded by his rage. His rage for you." You met his gaze again, a new hardness to your stare, "He wanted revenge."

Jaskier's frown turned into soft expression as realization took over, "Y/N—"

You cut him off, "After my mother died, and my uncle taught me everything I know...I did anything for justice. For revenge."

"But you're not like him."

"Why not?" Your eyes stung with tears, but you blinked them away. "I'm an assassin, Jaskier. I kill people."

"I know that—"

"No, you don't. I kill people and I enjoy killing people. If I hadn't known you were innocent, I would have enjoyed killing you too."