So when three separate people sent me this post... I realised I just had to write it. So have some Assassin!Jaskier and concealed weapons.
CW: horny but not explicit, implied weapon kink, minor injury but quickly healed.
_________
The vase flew off the chest of drawers as Jaskier blindly reached behind him to steady himself, too busy fiercely attacking Geralt’s lips in a kiss to pay any attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t sure who had finally made the first move but the tension between them had been building for months now, and it had tipped over the edge that evening. All Jaskier’s wildest dreams were coming true in the middle of a shitty inn, in a village that probably wasn’t even on any maps.
And yet, Jaskier would remember it for the rest of his life.
Geralt’s hands ran down his arms, stroking along the soft silk fabric. The sensation made his skin tingle even through the blasted layers of clothes. He was about to snap at Geralt, tell him to bloody well hurry up, when he heard a familiar click.
He pulled his hand back from Geralt’s face just in time as a blade shot out from his sleeve, sharp and deadly. “Ah fuck!”
“What the fuck, Jaskier?”
“Umm, ah, well… travelling bard, all alone. I need the element of surprise if I get attacked?”
“You’re a bard, not an assassin!” Geralt growled.
Jaskier blushed, thinking back to his training at the illusive Lettenhove Castle. “Yes, I’m a bard, obviously, now let me just…” he shimmied out of his doublet and unstrapped the holster and mechanism for his hidden blade. “Okay, shall we?”
Geralt rolled his eyes and pulled him into another kiss, even more insistent than the last, the heat building quickly, and soon Jaskier was moaning into Geralt’s mouth. He was everything he dreamed of and more. It was like they were made to kiss each other. “Fuck, Geralt,” he groaned as Geralt’s hands landed on his arse.
“Shit!” Geralt pulled back, sucking at his fingers. Blood stained his lips, and whilst it looked strangely attractive, reminiscent of red stains that sorceresses favoured, it really shouldn’t be there. Jaskier frown and tentatively reached to where his throwing knives were safely tucked away in the back of his trousers.
Only one had come loose in the kerfuffle of moving upstairs, slicing through the fabric… and apparently Geralt’s hands.
“I am so so sorry!” Jaskier exclaimed, his cheeks heating up and he wanted to sink into the floor.
“Seriously?!”
“Bandits are tricky buggers?”
Geralt just glowered at him. The wound on his hand was already starting to knit back together but it had really killed the mood… which was not the purpose of throwing knives. They were made to kill his contracts, not his erection.
And by the gods he was not losing this opportunity. He gently took Geralt’s injured hand in his and pressed a kiss to the palm, avoiding the jagged wound that ran across it. Then he kissed each of Geralt’s finger tips, turning the witcher’s hand round to kiss his knuckles. He gazed up at Geralt through his eyelashes with wide eyes. “Forgive me, dear heart?”
The witcher’s frown softened into a fond expression and Jaskier knew he’d won. “Any more?”
Jaskier considered the question. Yes, he had more. A lot more. He’d just finished a contract before meeting up with Geralt so he was well stocked on blades and other useful weaponry… but how the fuck was he going to explain it all.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. This was really not going his way, but if he didn’t come clean there were going to be more accidents and he really really didn’t want that.
“Umm…” he trailed off.
Geralt took a step back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What the fuck, bard?”
“Well. Umm… I am a bard…”
“But?”
“I’m not just a bard?”
Geralt cursed and turned around, facing the bed that had held so much promise before. Jaskier whined, his trousers were still uncomfortably tight and Geralt still looked so fucking gorgeous even with his grumpy face…. especially with his grumpy face.
With a sigh, Geralt turned back around, his fingers still pressed to his forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Jaskier grinned and went to throw his arms around Geralt but the witcher held his hands up to stop him. “What now?”
“I’m not touching you until you’re undressed, no more hidden weapons.”
Jaskier pouted but got to work, he carefully took off his rings and set them aside. “Poison,” he muttered when Geralt raised an eyebrow at him.
“Poison… in your rings?”
“Why do you think I have so many?”
“Melitele’s tits, Jask.”
“I’m sorry! I don’t judge you for all your monsters guts and severed heads!” Jaskier snapped, “Don’t judge my rings.”
“Just hurry up,” Geralt grumbled, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.
Jaskier winked. “Eager, witcher?”
“Shut up and strip.”
Jaskier giggled and pulled off his chemise, making sure his selection of smaller knives that were pinned to the inside didn’t show when it landed on the floor. Geralt’s gaze was burning in its intensity and Jaskier took a moment to bask, enjoying the feeling of his witcher’s attention. There were leather holsters strapped to his thighs, impossible to hide from his witcher as he pealed off his trousers, but he saw the growing hunger in Geralt’s face when the straps were revealed. Jaskier winked as he took both daggers from their holsters, flipping them in his hands before setting them aside, although judging by Geralt’s reactions to the weapons, perhaps one day could keep them on hand.
The thought of having Geralt, the mighty White Wolf, pinned to the bed, Jaskier’s blade at his throat, fuck. He shivered and filed that thought away for a later date.
But with almost all his clothes and weapons laying strewn all over the floor, he could almost have everything he desired. Geralt seemed to have the same idea and he reached forward to kiss Jaskier, but this time it was the assassin that stopped the kiss. Geralt stared at him incredulously, raising an eyebrow.
“You have got to be kidding me…” he breathed and sat back down on the bed.
Jaskier smiled sheepishly down at his lover as he pulled a shiv from a secret pocket in his small clothes. It wasn’t easily accessible but useful for the rare occasions he got caught and thrown into prison. Thankfully he usually only got caught by angry Lords and Ladies who thought he was a useless bard. It was much easier to escape when they underestimated him.
“What the fuck,” Geralt groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Jaskier shrugged. “I’ll explain later, now will you please just kiss me, and possibly fuck me into the mattress until I can’t remember my own name?”
“No more weapons?” Geralt grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Where the bloody hell would I have any more…” he trailed off as he remembered one memorable visit to Toussaint, “ah right. Okay. Never mind, point taken. No more weapons.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Geralt growled, grabbing for Jaskier’s hand and pulling him forward so they both tumbled onto the mattress together in a mess of limbs.
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Going through some shit I’m coping by losing myself in the linework. I think I’ve finished the lines on this one. It’s my assassin!Jaskier AU sketch. It’s a story that I’m currently writing. Taking my time on it, want to publish an illustration with each chapter or maybe every other. Not sure yet.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: Gen
Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV)
Character: Jaskier | Dandelion
Additional Tags: Assassin Jaskier | Dandelion, Competent Jaskier | Dandelion, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Young Jaskier | Dandelion, i decided to expand a little on the nebulous backstory of jaskier in rmq, which is the previous fic in this series, but it’s largely detached from this one, This was going to be crackier than it ended up but hopefully you can still get a laugh out of it, rmq was toeing the line between dark and funny but this one’s just mildly gorey, gratitous oc death, assassin child lies about ghouls: the fic, lots of vaguely described violence idk i was sad
Summary: He almost fell asleep in an alcove, his first night, only to make his first kill that night when an older boy - definitely at least twelve summers - tried to gut him in his sleep. In a blind panic, he’d grabbed the boy’s wrist and twisted it round to land the knife in his own gullet, and the boy had been too surprised to resist.
That was the last time Julian had slept easily.
He learnt from his mistakes and the mistakes of others. He realised, when a little red-headed girl choked on water from one of the wells, that no act of sabotage was considered out of line, and he quickly got used to the concept of stealing when he caught another boy trying to pilfer his knives while he slept - and Julian never slept soundly anymore, the faintest of noises enough to jolt him back into consciousness, swinging a weapon.
Most importantly, he survived - thrived, even - because never made the same mistake twice.
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"This is your life now, destiny and hope and love be damned. My Lady will unmake you and if you're found worthy, she will breathe life into the corpse that is left behind. I consider it a blessing from Melitele herself that I will be here to witness your undoing."
Valdo cast his sword aside and with a look of utter disgust he spat on Jaskier before turning and walking away.
"I expect you to be back here at sunrise, it’s time you learned to tend the garden...and wipe that blood from your face, red really isn't your color."
I once read a fic in which they vaguely hinted at Jaskier being an assassin saying something like "He had spent years, before posada and the White Wolf, taking care of monsters you don't need silver for". Your last ask made me think back about it and I just think it's neat.
Oooh that’s cool! I do love Assassin!Jask. My darling friend @kateis-cakeis wrote this amazing fic! It’s an Assassin’s Creed/Witcher fusion that is just so good! I also did the art work for it so I guess I’m biased but really you should check it out! Even if you don’t play the games the world building is just phenomenal!
