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annmarcus63 · 3 years ago

Text

He wanted to say "I love you"

Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Here's on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34237159

Injured Jaskier

"Blessed silence"

"Would you shut up, bard?"

"If you don't stop within the next two minutes, I swear, I'll break that fucking lute and shove it down your throat"

"Jaskier, shut up!"

"Alright! I'll stop, there's no need to be such a brute" replied Jaskier while tucking the lute, currently on his hands, on the brand new case he bought a couple of days ago to a retired musician living his last days on White Orchard. It's gorgeous, orgasmic, almost as sexy as the lute.

The music notes slowly fading in Geralt's ears, leaving a weak hum behind. Geralt sighed relieved, and a suspicious feeling that may resemble guilt. But there's not time to dwell on it. He's trying to sort the potions and required ingredients to complete the contract which he needed to follow up that same night. Witchers were trained to tune out every sound to be able to concentrate. He could meditate for days with not a single thing to bother him, but Jaskier's chatter is a powerful contrary spell to the calmness he was used to. It's a possibility that Jaskier fell upon his path with the sole purpose to test his limits. He is good company but sometimes Geralt wonders if it's worth the trouble.

He needs Arachnomorphs' venom and Griffin's feathers and blue mutagen to brew the antidote to the potent venom of the Endrega warrior he's goin to face. Methodically he starts with the preparation, grind and mix, smell, taste, it hurts...it's ready.

Three weeks ago he received a letter from Eskel asking to meet for pressing matters. Geralt doesn't know what he may want, it maybe a problem with a powerful beast or just a call to drink, which is unlikely because the message seem urgent. So Geralt had to hurry if he wanted to catch him on time, he was two days late and if he doesn't kill the Endrega he'd be three days late. Traveling with Jaskier prevent from a fastest pace, and the reason of those two days were, of course, the bard who asked him to stay longer on White Orchard to wait for his new lute case. Geralt ponder all this with an edge of bitterness towards Jaskier, it's unfair and uncalled for. He feel like shit. He ponder it still.

Jaskier is capable of recognizing when he's being a nuisance. Or well...he can recognize when someone has reach their limits regarding him. He can be too much, he speaks too much, he moves too much, he whines too much, he thinks too much. He's considerate you see, when Geralt snaps at him he understands. He can't help it. Is what he is, and he's not going to change, he tried once for his father. It didn't work, Jaskier was giving too much away for the acceptance of one person, he conclude it didn't worth it.

He understands really, but today Geralt has been a little over the edge, and has crossed the line between banter and plain rudeness.

So the logical response is to be more annoying.

Jaskier can be awful too when he wants.

He prod the wild and stressed animal with meaningless chatter, why does the fire moves like that? is the color of my fingernail normal? have you ever wonder how it'd be to become a fish?

the wild animal spill one or two drops of the antidote while pouring it from the small wood plate in which the ingredients got blend. Jaskier swear have saw how the vein on Geralt's forehead pop.

Ups…

"Would you SHUT UP for once in your fucking life?” ok he seen that coming “I can't even hear my own thoughts, bard. When we reach Velen you're going to stay there. Do you understand? Not following me around anymore”

To be fair he has caused this. It's what he does, always, being and idiot with and incessant mouth. He has push too far this time, even so that tone on Geralt's voice put him on edge, angry even. That ungrateful witcher and his never ending foul mood. What would he give to see him smile more often?

Everything.

A heavy atmosphere settled on the camp, Geralt's angry and now Jaskier's too, offended to be more accurate. Jaskier hated these often-occurring moments, as if the bard were a stranger and not a years friend.

Are you though?

Whoever sent the letter is Geralt's friend. What give it away? the eagerness to travel fast for instance. Jaskier send a letter once, asking if he wanted to meet at Novigrad, he never received a response nor Geralt went there.

Geralt packed his things, secure the sword straps and with a particular tenseness on his shoulders he turn to Jaskier.

"You're going to stay here. HERE Jaskier. I don't want you anywhere near the nest, the poison..."

"I know"

"Then I want you to repeat it"

"What? Really? I'm not a child, Geralt" but the Witcher kept his stance, waiting, and Jaskier's a sucker for pleasing.

"I'm going to stay here, quiet and still. If I get near the nest there's a high chance to get poisoned, even a small dosis could kill me. And get my body back and bury it would be a big hassle for you Are you happy now?"

"Hmm. I'll be back by midnight"

Geralt disappeared between the trees and Jaskier watch him go with a big lump on his throat. Not five minutes later he started cleaning the broth pot to fill it again with clean water to drink to warm up his bones. How he wish to have tea or coffe to add.

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Wind's howling, Jaskier reflected, feeling the chill colouring his cheeks and breaking his lips unpleasantly. Besides the wolfs living on the wind, there was silence, a sepulchral silence that caused him feel unsafe. Even Roach looks in distress. An hour ago she was lying on the grass getting ready for a good night sleep, and now she's looking everywhere as if she can sense something lurking in the shadows, and that is scary. By the position of the moon Jaskier could guess the time, one and a half hour past midnight. That idiot witcher should be here by now. He knew that, Roach knew that, so why he's not here?

He couldn't think straight, the worry was eating him up from the intestines and it wasn't fair or unnormal, worrying for Geralt is like worrying for the sun to never come up again. It may happen but is unlikely, impossible.

Geralt is fine, he is, or at least is what he kept repeating himself for the past hour like a mantra that no one would ever listen.

Something went wrong, I'm sure. He'd be here by now so why he's not here? What if the Endrega chew his head off? that's sudden and crude Jaskier, what's wrong with you? He can't be dead, I mean I didn't even get the chance to apologize, to clean his wounds, to buy him breakfast, to tell him I love him with all my beating foolish heart.

Agh, but he's not dead, so stop that train of thought right this instant, young man.

For some reason the voice sounded like his dead mother.

"I need to go there only to see if he's safe" said Jaskier to Roach

"But he said rather rudely to you to stay put and not bother him." replied imitating Roach voice like a tired housewife.

"I know what he said" said with an air of petulant child. "And what about you come with me to keep me in check"

"It's dark you can't see and it's dangerous"

"But you can!"

"Fine, hop on me" he loved winning arguments.

He saddled Roach efficiently, Geralt rarely let him do it but he was a quick learner. He put out the fire with a kick of dust, took a small blade that Geralt kept at the bottoms of his bag just in case, he also lit the only torch they carried for emergencies, a beacon of light that Geralt could see if he was in trouble and rode Roach towards the clearing next to the main road from which people get disappearing and getting eaten.

He trusted Roah to guided him, she was a clever one who also worried for her master.

The cold kept biting his skin even under the small fire, he left his cape at camp in case he needed to run, but they're getting closer. A wooden statue with flowers and canisters at it’s feet appear by his right, the notice board said the location of the insect was near that god statue.

He stoped Roach and dismount then he took the short blade wishing he didn't have to use it, before leaving he remembered the possibility of encounter with poison, according to Geralt Endregas not only spit venom but also exuded poisonous gas equally lethal. So he took his undershirt to cover half his face, this might prevent breathing it.

The turned out the torch because the light would attract the Endrega and distract Geralt.

He walked slowly to north realizing how much he was trembling, it wasn't that cold. It was fear and the soft hum of the adrenaline waiting on his brain for being triggered.

And then a rancid and potent smell reached him despite the undershirt. There. A thick unnatural mist and a series of small mountains piled some meters away. No, not mountains, bodies, Endrega bodies lying on the ground slaughtered with efficiency. A witcher’s work.

He almost missed it because of the mist, but there he was, Geralt, lying on the ground in a tragic pantomim of his foes. Jaskier hurried to him almost tripping in the process, he kneel by his side and got shocked by the hardened veins on the witcher's forehead, his levels of toxicity must being dangerous high. But he wasn't dead and if Jaskier wanted to keep him like that he needed to take him away from the mist to help his body fight the secondary effects of the pocions.

He looked the number of bodies surrounded them, more than six when the contract said one Endrega.

He have to be quick so he wrap Geralt by the armpits and with all his strength started to drag him towards Roach, he couldn't risk bringing her here in case of the poison or another insect near by. Geralt was a big guy, he has always being attracted to that, now not so much. Sweating, weary and scared.

Sweating, weary and scared the bard dragged the witcher to Roach when he started to feel dizzy followed by an annoying scratching under the skin. Roach stamped her feet two times before getting closer, she nosed her master while Jaskier catch his breath, then the lovely girl crouched down and wait patiently.

In a matter of a blink, his head started to pound violently and his vision to get blurred. That wasn't good.

The poison, it's the poison.

With all the strength he got left he pull Geralt on his belly over Roach, the position wasn't ideal but it was all he could do before collapsing on his knees.

"Go Roach. Go" She stood with must carefulness, Jaskier watched her go feeling a rush of pride and victory, he saved Geralt, he'll be alright and that was all that matter.

Jaskier fell backwards hitting his head with the ground, his body started convulsing or at least that's what he thought before lose consciousness.

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An insistent poke on his ribs brought him to wakefulness followed by a fall and a sudden sharp pain on his side. A few seconds later the witcher take in his surroundings. Roach neigh by his side, he had fall from her. The heavy cloud from exhaustion and toxicity still rested on his brain.

He felt the bitter tang on the back of his tongue of venom running thru his system and the hollow pain that remained. There were eight Endregas...yes, the Endregas, he had fainted on the clearing knowing well that he might not woke up again if he kept on breathing that mist. How did he get there? Roach answered with a distressed stump of her foot.

"What?" he asked the horse, and she neigh.

Jaskier

"Fuck."

he search on his pouch for White Honey to swallow it in a big gulp.

Awareness returned quickly and despite the injuries and aches on his lef side he took Roach's reins and guided her back to the clearing.

Back to Jaskier, he hoped to not be late, please let him be on time, he begged to no one in particular.

The contract said one Endrega, imagine the surprise and horror he felt when encountering a nest with full grown ups monsters which position were stronger and their hunt abilities an excellency when attacking in pack. He drank the three vials of antidote he carried and a dose of Swallow that burned his stomach and shot the toxicity levels to a mortal point. The Endregas were all dead, but tired and injured he collapse defeated. The position of the moon indicate that was dead for at least two hours during which he continued to breathe the poisonous gas, half and hour more and he'd be dead for good. Jaskier went for him, he could smell him on Roach, his fear and urgency. Idiot, that idiot.

Geralt tried with all his might to not think him dead.

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At the feet of the statue was Jaskier, body bent in an awkward angle. Geralt removed the undershirt on his face, recognizing it as a clever tactic. The mist did not reach that area but the purple and green tone on the bard's skin indicate high levels of poison, he must have went thru the mist to reach Geralt drag him back to Roach.

“Fuck, Jask” said Geralt with a trembling voice and without thinking carried Jaskier to Roach, there'll be time to check for injuries for now he have to take him back to safety. Jaskier's heartbeat was slow, very very slow. Geralt fret but he did not relent.

He laid Jaskier's frigid body on the bedroll and with Igni he started the fire, he located the water Jaskier used for tea and used to clean his hands of the grime and dirt. A choking noise alerted him and Roach who was nosing the bard.

From Jaskier's nose a dark liquid started to flow, he was drowning from the inside which meant that he had breath the poison and it was filling his lungs with thick mucus.

He put Dandelion on his side and encouraged him to vomit with his fingers to clean his airways as soon as possible. Jaskier throat convulsed on his fingers followed by a steady dark flow. Geralt reached for the pot by the fire to put it under his mouth, which soon was filled to the brim.

"That's it Jask, that's it" Geralt whispered even though the bard couldn't hear him. With a clean cloth, he wiped the bard's mouth once the flow stopped and her lungs sound clear. It was then that Geralt noticed with overwhelming fear that the other had stopped breathing.

"No, no, Jask come on come on"

He acted fast by lifting Jaskier's chin and placing his clasped hands in the center of his chest and began to push down hard more times than he could count.

“Jaskier come back!” he growled when his shoulders felt like jelly, he was getting tired and Jaskier wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing. He remembered Renfri choking on his arms a reflection of what was happening here. Not this again, not these again. Jaskier's mouth opened follow up by a weak gasp and a weaker heartbeat.

But he came back, and Geralt almost cried right there and there, but he didn't know how. There's nothing else he can do, he had no medicine of herbs for poisoning that could help humans, everything he had was lethal. He instantly regretted overlooking the possibility of this happening. He was traveling with a bard and the most responsible and considerate thing he could do was prevent and buy at least herbs just in case. But he didn't. They were at least a day and a half away from the next town and being that far from the capital meant fewer healers. Jaskier wouldn't survive the travel, not on this conditions.

If the poison hasn't killed him by now then it means that he could survive on his own, or at least that's what Geralt hope.

He put Jaskier in one of his shirts and covered him with all the available clothes they had, his cape and even the blanket with which he covered Roach.

Exhausted he started removing his armour to clean the now faint slashes on his chest and abdomen, then he walked like death to Roach to remove the saddle and pet her gently thanking her for her help.

It was an hour before dawn, but Geralt did not rest, he could not even if he wanted to. He sat next to Jaskier to check his breathing and keep the fire burning.

The fever hit the bard a couple of hours later, he was burning dangerously high, Geralt dipped a cloth on clean water to place on his forehead, from time to time raised Jaskier's head to feed him with water.

His heart didn't stop again which was a blessing amongst the terrible situation. Jaskier didn't deserve to die like this, not for Geralt or monsters.

Then the hallucinations began, feverish and confused, Jaskier babbled under his breath while trembling furiously. He smell like sickness and decay and in that exact moment the witcher missed the natural perfume of the bard's skin. Like sea breeze and orange tree. Like Jaskier.

By day two Geralt got assaulted by an all consuming wave of guilt. He had yelled at the bard for being...well, himself. He was so upset and it was so easy to insult and threaten to leave him in the next town.

Jaskier hated to be left behind.

"Why did you came for me, you idiot?"

"I don't deserve it" whispered before taking the now warm cloth to dip it once again on cold water. Instead of improving, Jaskier's condition began to deteriorate. Painful spasms convulsed his body for hours, the fever did not subside and his breathing were shallow and slow. Geralt lay next to him that night to keep the tremors at bay, he hold him carefully alongside his body.

"You do remember the night after Posada when we make camp and you asked me to cuddle you because you were cold?" He whispered into the night "I didn't. If you were awake I'd never hear the end of this. You'd love it"

The bard moaned softly and shook slightly under his grip. "Come back to me, Jask." He meant to say how sorry he was, he doze off instead.

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First he felt heat on his face, then a relentless pressure on his head as if a heavy stone was on top of it Little by little he maped his body and the multiple aches that alarmed him. On his chest underneath the skin his ribs screamed with fire as if he have been kicked hard multiple times, also his lungs burned like hell, his shoulders were stiff and sore, his belly hurt faintly.

What happened? Where is he? What, what, what, what

"Jaskier Jaskier. I'm here, breathe thru your nose, I'm here." Suddenly he realized that he was sitting up and wide-eyed. It was noon. "Jask" kneeled next to him was Geralt with a worried frown and a canister fill of water. He snatched it from Geralt's hands and drank as if a desert was kept inside his lungs.

"Easy"

“Not…your…horse” Jaskier flinched at how raspy his voice sounded. Beside him, the witcher chuckled and then stretched out his hand to put it on his forehead. Before Jaskier could react at the soft touch tha hand was gone.

"Fevers down" uh, did he sound happy?

"I had fever?" Geralt looked at him with such intensity, a expression he had never seen and therefore didn't know what it meant.

"You almost died" he answered softly. She saw Roach grazing without a mount a few feet away, she also noticed that Geralt was in his small clothes. The camp was a small mess like when they stay on the same place for more than two days.

"The Endrega"

"Endregas, yes"

"I went..."

"Yes"

"I... i'm sorry"

"No, don't be, you saved me" It was a shock when Geralt straightened a lock of hair from her forehead. His fingertips were warm.

"Are you hungry?"

"I don't know. I don't think so"

"You have to eat. I cooked rabbit broth, it'll do you good"

He could only swallow a quarter of the broth before starting to feel nauseous, Geralt said he had vomit enough for the past days before taking the pot from him. Roach came to say hello and Jaskier felt his heart swelled with affection. He wanted to do and ask more, but suddenly he felt tired, very tired, his eyelids fluttered and when Geralt saw him, he helped him lie down and put his cape over him. He was soft and calm, tender even. At that moment Jaskier knew that he must have been in a bad shape if Geralt was acting like this, like Jaskier always imagine on his wildest dreams.

He wanted to said thank you but it felt so meaningless at the moment, Geralt didn't look that good, slump and with drop shoulders a clear sign of exhaustion. if Jaskier still breathed, it was all thanks to Geralt, despite how defeated he was from the contract, he took care of him.

I love you seem something meaningful to say, every feeling and thought Jaskier have had of the witcher, taking form into three little words.

Sleep took him away before he could have the courage to say it.

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The next morning Jaskier insisted he was fine and he wanted to travel to the next town , of course he was a liar Geralt always knew when he lied, because he wrinkled his nose in a cute but irritating way. With a small smile, he pinched the bard's nose back to normal.

“No, you’re not ready” Jaskier let out a laugh as he smack the witcher's hand away. and before Jaskier could protest Geralt added "But we need go there to get you to a healer and reastock"

"Your letter Geralt, don't forget about your letter"

"Uhmm"

Before setting off on the journey, Geralt made sure that Jaskier could endure the journey. He applied what was left of a soothing balm to Jaskier's chest for the pain and bruises that remained after the compressions. Riding would be painful, but they have to get to the healer in case of a relapse or permanent damage. Jaskier let him applied the balm and he couldn't believe the patience and care the witcher put on his motions as if Jaskier could break if enough force was used. He was crumbling in tiny little pieces, melting, but from a different source. The witcher is going to be the end of him one day of these.

I love you, we wanted to said. He put on one of Geralt's shirt instead, it smells like onion and Roach and Geralt and smoke and safety. It smells like home.

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Riding Roach was painful and tiring, walking was out of the question He kept waiting for Geralt to get upset by the multiple stops they made but that never happen, in fact the witcher was the one who plannified and suggest to rest every one or two hours.

Something has changed between them, but the bard does not know what to name this new atmosphere, but he sure welcomes it. For the first time in all the years they have travel together Jaskier felt wanted, cared for, treasured! With a rush of happiness and satisfaction, Jaskier acknowledged that the walls Geralt has built around him to keep him out and stranded, have collapsed. He finally was someone to hold on to. Jaskier was sitting on the bed roll with a warm tea canister on his hands while the witcher set up camp to sleep the night. A day and a half away from the next town has become two days, they'll be reaching the inn (if it were any, Jaskier hope there would be) by night fall.

Geralt was stoking the fire when a mad idea occurred to him, he crawled to Geralt and before he could voiced his displeasure the bard embrace him in a tight hug. Two seconds later, Geralt hugged him back almost urgently, nuzzling his face where Jaskier's shoulder and neck met. He withdrew with a goofy smile on his face and his heart hammering on his bruised ribs, he couldn't care less. But he didn't get any far, he was a selfish man. Geralt was smiling too, a soft and crooked smile, when he straightened the bard's hair over his forehead and ears, he then, like under a spell trace his thumbs over his eyebrows and eyelids. Jaskier could die right here and then from happiness.

Their faces were so close. I love you, Jaskier wanted to say, he took Geralt's hands instead to place a kiss on each dirtied palm.

"You reek" of course Geralt would know how to break the moment.

"You too, mister. For once Roach smells better than us"

“She always smells better tan us” Jaskier snorted getting back to the bedroll pondering on how lucky he was despite the near death experience, he was a lucky men.

By the next afternoon Jaskier was beyond exhausted, every single one of his bones scream with pain, he felt as if he was about to pass out at any moment.

"Geralt..."

"We have to get going, Jaskier, only for a few hours and we'd get there"

"I can't"

"Please, Jask, I'll take care of you when we get there"

Please, what a strange word to express how much you care.

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Geralt practically carried him up the stairs to the room, Jaskier fell face first on the bed already half sleep. Geralt was placing his things when the bard murmured “Wake me up before you go in the morning." The thing is that even if he were on time to reach Eskel, Geralt didn't want to go anywhere.

Jaskier woke up sometime in the night when the mattress sagged next to him.

followed by a strong arm curling around his belly.

"Grlt'?"

"Sleep"

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Jaskier woke up to the chirping of birds on the windowsill, it was still early, the sun was not up yet. Not even the drowsiness could prevent the joy he felt and finding himself tuck to Geralt chest, they're facing each other naturally as if they have sleep like this forever.

And like a bucket of cold water thrown over him he remembered the letter "Geralt" he called softly "Geralt it's morning"

"Hmm, I can see that" came the sloppy reply, but instead of getting up Geral cuddled him more, practically tucking his face against the other's.

as if sensing his distress Geralt added "I'm not going anywhere"

"But your contact..." he withdrew (a few inches) to make a point. Geralt opened his perfect eyes and hold him under them.

"Eskel, my brother. I already send a letter, he'll understand"

"I'm sorry" a kiss was place on his forehead

"Don't be, I want to be here"

"You...you didn't want to" Geralt sighed ashamed

"I know and i'm sorry. Now I know where i belong"

"Here?" replied Jaskier with a snort

"With you"

"With me?!" Now was Geralt's turn to snort happily, resembling Roach when they feed her apples.

"You risked your life even though I was an asshole to you, even when I told you that the poison would kill you if you got anywhere near the place. I...I'm sorry"

"You were an asshole, yes" Geralt gifted him with a smile full of teeth "To be fair i was behaving like a brat at the time"

"You are a brat, yes"

"Hey"

Jaskier wanted to say I love you, instead he kiss Geralt's lips softly.

Geralt wanted to do better, so better he did.

#geraskier fic #geraskier #jaskier #hurt jaskier #injury #jaskier x geralt #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier

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pomegranates-and-blood · 4 years ago

Text

Madness

My Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Blaeja

Summary: “I was wondering if I could request an imagine where the reader is a princess and Ivar travels to England with his brothers & thinks the princess is beautiful but he gets teased by Sigurd and his brothers but she can understand their language and decides to flirt with him in front of everyone?”

So I made her Kwenthrith’s daughter because why the fuck not, and Blaeja (Aelle’s daughter) is on this cause again, why the fuck not. Also the Reader might be a tad insane, but at this rate all my Reader characters are idk what to tell u

Word Count: 4.7k (I’m sorry lol)

Warnings: Mentions of rape and child abuse, mentions and allusions to violence and death, my horrible writing

A/N: Idk how I feel about this, I hope I don’t dissapoint the anon that requested it lol. Hope you enjoy, thank you for reading, and ily! <3

Also, I kinda went a lil overboard :/

The handmaid is fixing the coronet over your head when you hear the doors to your rooms open, so she turns to demand propriety from whoever entered unannounced, but seeing Aelle’s daughter with a devilish smile on her lips stops her on her tracks.

“Your Grace.” The woman bows gracefully, and steps back, letting Blaeja take her place.

“Are you ready?” The girl whispers to you, adept hand working at the tresses of your hair to make sure it is carefully hidden under your veil that showcases the delicate circlet on your head.

“You are the one that will be sent off to be married, my friend,” You remind her, chuckling, “To one of those…”

“Lord Sigurd is not that bad,” She interrupts, what for a second sounds like girlish infatuation on her tone. You are opening your mouth to quip on how she refers to one of those brutes as a ‘Lord’ but she clears her throat, and continues, “He played some music for me, the other day.”

“You have nothing to fear then,” You mock with a roll of your eyes, “Maybe he also played music for your father before they executed him, made all of it a much more lovely affair.”

Blaeja tugs at your hair in warning, and you steal a glance at the handmaid that looks carefully at the floor. As if she needed eyes to hear you, as if you didn’t know how she’ll gossip about this with the others.

“Careful, or I’ll ask that you come with me,” She laughs, “I’ll have you sold for two gold coins.”

“You are talking to the heiress to a broken and war-torn kingdom, Lady Blaeja, you better remember that!” You tell her in jest, and she laughs, with that laugh you two share, that laugh born out of despair and loss and uncertainty.

“How could I? Judith never lets me forget what a might Mercia continues to be.” She replies with no little disdain in her tone. After a breath of hesitation, she orders with curt words for the servants to leave you two alone, and once the doors close, the Princess of Northumbria kneels in front of you where you sit, grabbing your hands tightly on her own.

“You are scaring me.”

“There’s no reason to fear,” She tells you even as tears fill her eyes. With a tremulous smile, she whispers, “I heard my sister talking with her husband, about you.”

“Me?”

“Alfred would benefit greatly from having a Mercian Princess as wife,” She states, and though she smiles you feel only cold settling over your heart, dread. “With your mother dead…”

“Dead when King Ecbert, blessed be his memory, took control over Mercia, Blaeja! They already own my kingdom.” You remind her lowly, leaning down so your faces are closer to each other, but this doesn’t dim her smile.

Your heart aches at the reminder of your mother, for her, in all her sins and her scars, was the only family you ever had. The only protection you had, in that palace filled with monsters.

If you think about it, if you sit surrounded by all your sins and your mistakes and your faults and think about it, you know it was the sight of her shaking hands as she looked at them expecting to see blood and told you of the death of her brother that made you stop having faith in your God.

It wasn’t the death of a would-be king at the hands of his sister what made you realize the bishops and priests and deacons and saints were all full of lies, no. It was the emptiness in her gaze as she spoke of walking out of that room a Queen and realizing it wasn’t enough to make up for the pain he -the last remaining alive in the long line of monsters that made up your family- caused her.

It was the hoarse voice of the proud and ruthless Queen of Mercia telling you of the barbarity that took place right under her father’s willfully ignorant gaze, it was the shaking hands that clasped your own and begged for forgiveness that she didn’t need to ask for, it was the severed heads brought in by the Vikings that weren’t enough to heal her, it was the realization God, if he was ever there, looked away most of her life.

You shake those thoughts off, and focus on the Princess before you that smiles in a mix of joy for your fate and bitterness for hers.

With shaky breaths, you insist, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“They would have Mercian blood on their lineage, it would strengthen their claim.” She states, and the disgust it fills you with makes you feel shame. You should be ecstatic at the chance of becoming Queen, at the prospect giving Wessex strong sons to prepare for ruling and beautiful daughters to…to exchange like broodmares, like Blaeja, given to a Viking of all men, breakable daughters to fail to protect, like Kwenthrith, raped by her own brother and uncle.

You remember your mother’s pain. You remember her whispers about the court being filled with snakes, you remember her stories about the women with swords and loud voices.

And you remember King Ecbert’s lessons. You remember his tales about the land where his Ragnar Lothbrok came from, you remember his bitterness at the strange land that captured the heart of a man of God such as Athelstan.

You meet her brown eyes, and force a smile on your lips, because may the earth part underneath your feet and drag you down, you will not wed Alfred.

____

They introduce you to the sons of Ragnar, and you will admit, Blaeja looks positively smitten by the easy smile the blond man gives her in greeting. Lovely.

Judith makes a point of having you be sitting next to Alfred who, blessed be his soul, attempts to strike conversation with you only to be stopped by his own shyness.

You still offer him a few courteous smiles, and thank his kindness when he offers it so. When the Vikings talk amongst each other, mostly about the strange food and customs, you notice the King looks at you to gauge your expression, as if he knows you also know their tongue.

You worry about how much King Ecbert shared with him for a moment, but say nothing.

“So, the one that walked in with your bride,” One of the sons of Ragnar starts, and though you decide to pay attention you keep your gaze on your food and the entertainment going on around you, offering one of the performers a small smile. “Who is she?”

“Princess of Mercia, I think. The crazy queen father fought for with Uncle Rollo and the others, that’s her daughter.” A man with hair that you thought first was short but realized later falls down his back in a thick braid, his blond beard unkept, but his eyes those of an experienced man as they look over the room.

“Let’s hope beauty is not all she shares with that crazy bitch, huh? I would love to fuck a Saxon princess again.” Mocks a man you weren’t introduced to, so not a son of Ragnar, with ink on his face and long dark hair.

You realize too late you have lifted your gaze and set your eyes on him, what is sure to be affront and embarrassment showing on your face.

You lower your eyes again to the table before you, clenching your hands into fists on your lap, but you feel like someone is looking at you, and from the other end of the table, when you peek carefully, you catch the eyes of the one they introduced but whose name you can’t remember, the one with short dark hair, the one whose legs seem to be broken.

He looks at you with a silver of surprise, but there’s something else there. Regardless, you know he knows, and it makes fear settle on your stomach like acid. You wonder if this is what Burgred felt when he was poisoned.

“You’ve been staring at her all night, Ivar,” Blaeja’s betrothed starts, voice sickly mocking. “Are you hoping she’ll look back? Take your cripple ass to her bed?”

“Sigurd…” One of the elder brothers grumbles, clearly tired of it all.

“I’m just saying, he’d have more luck forcing a thrall to touch him than hoping a free woman will.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, brother? Fucking your slave so she can’t even say no.”

“Who out of the two of us will bed a princess, hmm? It surely isn’t the cripple that can’t even please a slave right, is it?”

You and Alfred exchange a look, no longer pretending either of you don’t understand, as the youngest, Ivar, snarls some threat at his brother, voice and temper rising alike.

Refusing to be spoken of like some sort of cunt with a crown, you speak up, though your gaze remains on your plate.

“Princess Blaeja asks you to play that awful lute to keep your paws off her, so I fear that arrogance is unfounded, my Prince.”

Alfred chokes on his drink as he tries covering a startled laugh with a cough, and you feel wide eyes from the end of the table where the Vikings seat settle on you.

“What did you say?” One of the men asks slowly, and with the madness your mother left you with, you lift your gaze and meet the eyes of the man you recognize as Bjorn Ironside.

“My mother wasn’t crazy,” Is all you reply with gritted teeth, before turning to the blonde that Blaeja is to marry. You don’t know what it is that makes you open your mouth again, but you do, “And I was indeed looking at your brother. I feel for you deeply, my Prince, if you can’t recognize want in a woman’s gaze.”

Alfred clears his throat, what you could swear is a smile -the youthful smile of a boy witnessing chaos- shyly settling on his lips, and stands up to propose a toast and dissipate the atmosphere.

“With this being one of the last nights our dear Blaeja, daughter of the late King Aelle, blessed be his soul, spends with us, I-…”

You don’t listen anymore, taking a sip from your wine and catching over the rim of your goblet the eyes of the youngest son of Ragnar -Ivar, you remind yourself- on you, studying you with a mix of mistrust and curiosity.

You keep your gaze on his, and as you lower your cup from your lips, you offer a smile. His own lips tremble in what was sure to be an instinctual reply with a smile of his own, before he schools his features.

Regardless, he takes his eyes off yours and in his whole posture embarrassment is written. Managing to fluster a Viking of all men fills you with a thrill, a heat, like no other.

The men toast and you gesture your goodbyes as the dinner is dispersed. Before you can make it out the door, Blaeja stops you with a hand on your arm.

“What did y-…do you speak their tongue?”

“I do. King Ecbert taught me a lot before he died,” You state, before frowning in confusion and thoughtfulness, “Before he died at the hands of these men…Blaeja, my friend, don’t you ever stop and think about how strange it all has become?”

Blaeja only narrows her eyes with a growing exasperated smile on her lips.

“I care about what you said to my future husband.”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” You pat her cheek in friendly jest, making her roll her eyes. After a moment of consideration, you tell her, “Though he may not play his lute as often anymore, I fear.”

____

You wait impatiently by the window to your room, wondering over and over if this is the wrong choice, if you are making the worst mistake possible, if you are walking into the wolf’s den.

Before you can think yourself out of this, Blaeja, with her head covered by a dark cloak, makes her way into your room.

“I didn’t think your betrothed would agree.” Is all you state, dryly, as she motions for you to get your own cloak.

“Oh, I can assure you Prince Sigurd despises you, but luckily, he seems to adore me. Go, and don’t make me regret this.”

With a light laugh you kiss her cheek and dart out of the room, ready to follow the familiar path to where you asked Prince Sigurd to arrange a meeting between his brother and you.

“So it is you.” He says, dragging himself up a couch in front of yours. You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling, and try to remember all the logic, all the strategy, you’ve put behind this stupid plan of yours.

“I told them to let you know.” You reply curtly, but the Prince shrugs.

“Sigurd could be mocking me. Make the cripple think he is meeting with the Princess?” He shrugs, but it is not nonchalant in the slightest. In all of his fame and vitriol, you notice, now only remains a man uncertain, unmoored, braced for rejection or mocking like you’ve scarcely seen before. The knowledge that you, or the combination of you and his older brother, seem to be a vulnerable point for him is a knowledge you don’t truly know what to do with. You say nothing in response, and with a movement of his head, after settling in his seat, he insists, “Why did you want to meet with me?”

“You norsemen have a reputation,” You start carefully, plucking at a lose string on the sleeve of your dress. “And the crown needs the allegiance Blaeja’s marriage with your brother gives them, so no mat-…”

“I don’t like your roundabout ways,” He states brusquely, and it stops you on your tracks, your eyes wide and lips parted as you stare at the Prince. He gestures with one hand, a frown starting to mar his face, “Just say what you want, Princess.”

“I want you to take me with you back to wherever it is you come from. I want them to believe I’ve been stolen.”

The Prince looks at you like you have grown a second head, and to be quite frank, once the words have left your lips you realize you might as well have. This is foolish, and dangerous, and...crazy.

That’s what they called your mother, not only these norsemen but all of them. Because she admitted what many didn’t dare to: that if she had been born with a cock they all would have bowed and given her the crown she deserved, that the earth would have been easier to walk on.

You refuse to think madness is a bad trait.

You don’t have to ponder whether the Viking will see it as such, for you notice you have piqued his interest, you notice the curiosity at the madness in your request.

“Are you sure you aren’t the mad Mercian princess?”

You offer a humorless laugh at his taunt, and retort, “I don’t want to be here anymore. And…I can prove useful to you.”

“If you say a wife…”

You don’t let him finish, leaning closer and whispering,

“They want me to marry Alfred.”

“And you don’t want to.”

“His grandfather took Mercia from me, I will not be used as a broodmare so they can hold on tighter to my kingdom.”

The Viking starts to smile, wild and yet calculating, the ruthless and intelligent man his fame says he is.

“But you don’t want revenge.”

“They can fight for the scraps of what once was a mighty kingdom for the rest of time for all I care,” You offer honestly, “I do not want to be caught up in between. I will have to give him children if I marry him, and I refuse to let a child of mine suffer like my mother did, like Blaeja did.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, and his tone grows cruel, mocking, like the cat that plays with the poor mouse before eating it, when he insists, “I could make you a slave, sell you. If you annoy me, I could torture you. If you betray me, I would kill you.”

“I told you I was of use to you, though,” You insist past the fear that makes your hands tremble, “I will not be of use in pieces. You and Alfred played chess before, haven’t you?”

He loosens his posture, his expression is no longer so guarded and venomous as he asks, “And what is this use?”

“I’m a pawn they want to make Queen,” You state, and the Viking starts to smile. You knew he was smart; you knew he was aware of how he could take advantage of ‘taking’ you as a prisoner for his own gain. You have a feeling he wanted to know if you were aware of how your position could be played. Like chess, you ponder. “Surely you could ask for a lot in exchange for my safe return home.”

He considers your words in silence for a few moments, eyes travelling between yours as if trying to read your response to the words he has not yet uttered.

“And if I don’t want to return you to your home?”

You shrug, “Then they’ll have a rallying call for their war against your people, and I will be free from these…these nobles and their fucking priests.”

The Viking breathes a laugh, surprised and a little enthralled it seems, but you find yourself smiling back.

You keep careful eyes on the moon that travels the skies, watchful over the time that you will have to return to your rooms before anyone notices your absence. But in the meantime, you enjoy with easy smiles and a light heart the company of the Viking, surprisingly enough.

____

And the few extra days Blaeja can buy you do almost nothing for the plans of your escape -a part of you is certain the Viking has a plan he won’t share with you- but it does let you get to know the man you are asking to kidnap you. A giant brute like the others, that’s for certain, but he is smart, and cunning, and his dry humor never fails to make you laugh.

You find yourself intrigued, captivated, much more so than you could have thought when you made the choice to speak out against his brother during that first dinner. It is no secret to you he is no longer a pawn in the game you decided to play, but you cannot help but think you still are merely a pawn to him.

One of the nights you meet under the guard of the moon, he starts, “I cannot take you from this city, not without an army.”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise, “And you have thought of a way around that.”

“Haven’t you?” You reply with a small smile, knowing he has.

“If you could go closer to York…”

“Or you closer to Tamworth.”

“We’d have no way to leave by sea. I can’t exactly walk through the wilderness with you, Princess, as you can see.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips, but eventually acquiesce with a nod.

You sigh, “Then I don’t know, Ivar.”

You notice it is the first time you have said his name instead of his title, and you raise startled and apologetic eyes to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though you notice his gaze lingering on you for a few moments longer than it should.

It gives your still young and innocent heart a shock of hope that you feel all the way to the tips of your fingers.

“One way or another, I will steal you, Princess,” He insistes, and you only lift an eyebrow in response. He crosses his arms, “I promise.”

____

“They leave tonight.” Blaeja starts from her place sitting at your side on the garden bench. You turn to her.

“You leave tonight,” You remind her, “Aren’t you forgetting your lovely husband to be?”

But she shakes her head, “Prince Sigurd and I will marry if he returns,” Her voice wavers, and you realize with a mix of dread and joy she has learned to care for the Viking. She straightens her back and continues, “When he returns from the battle they depart today to prepare for.”

“Against Alfred?”

“Against the woman that murdered their mother. He says they are to take back their Kingdom from her.”

“Your Prince trusts you with all of these things.”

“His brother tells you things too.” She states without hesitation, and you look at her but stay silent, not denying Ivar has told you of Queen Aslaug and her murder already. Many things actually, just as you have told him many things too.

“So it will be a while before you see him again, if ever.” You muse, not only talking about her. It would be foolish to feel pain, loss, fear; you tell yourself. It doesn’t stop the prick of tears on your eyes, or the pit of pain on your chest.

“I will depart to Bamburgh in three days to await word of the outcome of the battle.”

You lay your head on her shoulder, releasing a shaky breath, “I’ll miss you.”

_____

Judith hounds you like a dog and it is starting to get on your nerves. You feel you are being judged and considered carefully for the role of Alfred’s wife, a role you do not want to be in and, if you were to ask him, you don’t think he’d want you in either.

The talks start of having a royal wedding soon after Blaeja weds the Viking Prince, who seems to have survived the battle for Kattegat. You tried asking around, bribing a servant or two, to figure out the fate of Prince Ivar, but you are too close to bearing the crown for them to feel comfortable trading secrets with you, it seems.

You catch sight of Alfred’s eyes on you during a dinner one night, and he offers what you swear is a soothing smile even if his warm eyes shine with regret.

Judith grabs onto her son’s arm and a tired-looking Aethelwulf stands up from his throne, calling for the attention of the clergy and nobles alike.

They announce you as Alfred’s betrothed after a few words you don’t bother with listening to.

As a gift for his bride to be, Alfred arranges for a few soldiers to escort you to Bamburgh, apparently at the request of Princess Blaeja that you accompany her on her wedding day. And barely with time to pack, almost three months after you last saw her, you are in a carriage on your way to the North.

____

She looks radiant, that’s the first thing you notice when you see her awaiting for you by the gates to the royal home. Bright smile and even brighter eyes, rosy cheeks and excitement and joy written all over her posture.

It gladdens you, to know she will be wed to a man she can care for, a man that can care for her. That maybe, just maybe, like in those tales your mother used to mock, there’s love to be felt before the Lord is to bind them together.

And once the ships arrive you will not lie and pretend you don’t feel disappointment, maybe grief, at the absence of the vitriolic yet captivating prince you met what seems so long ago.

You heard them talking about a son of Ragnar becoming King of Kattegat, and you have no doubts as to who bears the crown now. In another world, you may have left, he may have earned a kingdom in what used to be Mercia or Northumbria in exchange for the safe return to Wessex you’d never make.

But you will not let it stop you from finding a way out of this arrangement, of this…this marriage.

The possibility of asking Blaeja to claim you as a permanent resident of her land is there, of course, but you don’t think she has enough leverage against the crown itself to be able to keep you more than a few months. You could simply run away, but you are not stupid, you know you’d die or be found before you can spend a moon in the wilderness.

Still, you are a smart woman, you tell yourself, you will find a way out.

While the dinner -feast, they call it- in celebration for the wedding takes place, a man you recognize as one of the eldest sons of Ragnar approaches you while you sit alone.

You cannot help the pang of fear that runs through you at the sight of one of those giants looming over you, but you still offer what you hope is a courteous smile.

“You have to come with me.” He tells you, and you frown.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Follow me.”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, turning his back to you and slithering effortlessly between the dancing and feasting guests. After a moment of consideration, with a small smile on your face as if it were a thrillingly dangerous game of hide and seek, you chase after the Viking.

He leads you all the way down to the docks, and since the moon is high up in the skies, the streets are almost deserted and you are left forced to guide yourself in the darkness or thanks to the rare and dim light of a faraway lantern.

You still push on, your heart beating on your ears and fear and thrill bubbling under your skin.

“This is where I leave you, Princess,” The son of Ragnar says, stopping abruptly and turning to you. You frown, but he doesn’t step closer so you have nothing to fear. “We will see each other again.”

The man with the blondish and long hair gestures a mock of a formal goodbye, and walks confidently back to the royal home where the party -feast- is still taking place.

You are left dumbfounded and alone in the darkness, and instinct makes you want to chase after him and demand answers.

“Following a strange Viking into the darkness,” A familiar voice starts from behind you, stopping you on your tracks, “No wonder people say you are as crazy as your mother, Princess.”

You turn around with a frown and raised chin, ready to retort, “My mother was not c-…”

But you realize halfway as the words leave your lips whose voice it is, to whom the familiar pale blue eyes belong to.

Ivar stands now, and his hair seems longer and braided in some strange style, even his armor looks different. It seems like years have passed even though it has scarcely been half a year yet.

“You’re alive.” You whisper, and the Viking frowns, affronted.

“Of course I am,” He replies arrogantly, and you cannot keep the smile from your lips. He extends a hand, “And I’ve come to…steal you, was it?”

You don’t answer, even if a part of you is thrilled at him remember that first conversation. You only look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re a king now.”

“Hmm, and I was offered a queen, was I not?”

It startles you back to reality, back to your senses, and you notice the three ships with dim lanterns and silent warriors docked at the sides of the dragon-headed ship Ivar -King Ivar now, you suppose- stands in.

“That’s…not what I meant.” You say, but still your hand grasps at the skirts of your dress to lift it up, and you walk closer.

“Have you decided to stay with them?” And the sudden steel underneath his words, a promise of what you could be at the other end of if he is to believe you’ve fooled him, or gone back on your word, makes a thrill of fear go down your back.

“No, but…”

“Usually stealing a bride doesn’t involve this much talking, Princess.” He interrupts, and extends a hand, and you look at it with wide eyes.

“Now?”

“Why not?”

“I-…” You look into his eyes, pale blue eyes that you saw more than once when you closed your own in these past months, and a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “This is madness.”

Ivar says nothing, but his hand is still stretched between you. You take it, and jump into the ship.

___

So, that was it :/ I have a feeling it’s pretty boring but I’ll hope that’s cause I wrote it lol

Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think, and if you wanna rquest anything go right ahead, I promise to try my best lol

Thank you, I hoped you enjoyed <3

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #vikings imagine

308 notes · View notes

partialresonance · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! You asked for Geraskier prompts. What about some fluff? Jaskier heard that Witchers can’t blush so he tries to make Geralt blush by complementing him ?

Yay, thank you for the prompt!! This was so much fun to write. :D

CW: mild innuendo, reference to beheading?? Otherwise it’s pretty tame. ~1.6k of fluff coming right up!

Jaskier is eighteen, and Geralt is quite the most interesting man he’s ever met.

Of course, he’s handsome too, which doesn’t hurt. But for the moment Jaskier is mostly concerned with the fact that he’s a witcher. Jaskier has heard countless rumors and tales about witchers but he never imagined he would have the chance to actually meet one. He can’t pass up the chance to confirm the truth of what he’s heard, straight from the source.

“Geralt, is it true that witchers can see through walls?”

Even though Jaskier has to jog to keep up with Roach and is only treated to a view of the man’s broad backside, he can hear the eye-roll in Geralt’s dry response:

“No.”

“Well that’s a shame. I imagine brothels would be quite interesting places if you could.” Jaskier’s lute bangs against the back of his thighs, and he hoists the strap higher on his shoulder. “Speaking of which, is it true that witchers have—ah, how to put this delicately—inhuman stamina?”

“I can outrun you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt shrugs, and Jaskier puts his hands on his hips, his mouth twitching into a pout.

“You’re no fun at all, Witcher.”

What he won’t ask is if it’s true that witchers don’t have feelings. Jaskier had banished the idea as rubbish from the first, when he’d gone up to Geralt in that tavern in Posada and found him brooding. One cannot brood without feeling.

“Is it true that witchers can smell fear?”

At that, there is a telling pause.

“Yes.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Can’t imagine how that’s useful though. I’ve always found it quite easy to tell when someone’s afraid, they go all bug-eyed and their hands start to shake and they stutter a lot.”

“You’d be surprised.” Roach flicks her tail, narrowly missing Jaskier’s face. He dodges to the side, stumbling a bit on the dirt path. “Some people are good at hiding it.”

Jaskier shrugs, uninterested.

“Hmm, what else. What else,” he taps his chin, trying to dredge up the other rumors he’s heard.

“If you can’t think of anything else we could walk in silence,” Geralt says hopefully. Jaskier laughs, shaking his head. The very idea.

“Oh! I’ve got one.” He picks up his pace, jogging forward until he’s far enough ahead of Roach that he can turn and walk backwards, keeping ahead long enough to see Geralt’s expression. “Is it true that witchers can’t blush?”

“Where did you hear that one?” Geralt looks unimpressed. He flicks the reins and Roach springs into a trot; Jaskier has to leap to the side to avoid the devilish mare. Thankfully Geralt doesn’t seem intent on leaving him behind; after a few paces Roach slows to a walk again, though Jaskier is huffing by the time he finally catches up.

“Oh, you know,” Jaskier wheezes, clutching a stitch in his side. He waves a hand vaguely. “Around.”

He’d heard it in reference to the only place on a witcher’s body blood could rush to, but, well. Geralt doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes. It’s true.”

“Is it really?” Jaskier squints up at Geralt. He wishes he was a witcher who could sniff out lies. “You know it’s illegal to lie to a bard, don’t you?”

Geralt doesn’t answer, and now that Jaskier has run out of questions his mind seizes on a new game.

Make Geralt blush.

“Hey, Geralt!” Jaskier swings his lute around and plucks a few notes. “You ever heard the one about the fishmonger’s daughter?” And without further ado, he launches into the most downright filthy version he knows. It’s barely even innuendo, containing outright descriptions of exactly what the fishmonger’s daughter likes to do with her catch, even including a few dramatic moans and sighs on Jaskier’s part because he is nothing if not an excellent performer. He keeps a close eye on Geralt’s expression, but to his dismay all he sees is the gradual tightening of his jaw and flattening of his eyebrows. By the end of the song he looks downright murderous.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like that one. Heh.” Jaskier plucks a discordant note, underlining his failure to please the witcher with his song, as well as rouse even the faintest of pink tones to his pale skin. “Well, not everyone has a sense of humor. That’s alright.”

Damn it. What could he do to make a witcher blush?

After another mile or so Jaskier is forced to admit that the sex angle simply doesn’t affect the witcher. He’d tried everything--describing some of his own conquests, real and imagined, and he’d even faked a limp and sighed wistfully about his night with the innkeeper’s son! None of it has any effect on the man. And, with a cruel spike of embarrassment that brings heat to his own cheeks, Jaskier abruptly realizes it’s because the century-old witcher likely has seen and done things he can scarce imagine.

It’s all old hat to him, then.

“Have it your way then, you big old brute.” Jaskier consoles himself by playing his favorite songs at the loudest possible volume, his voice echoing off the canyons. He thinks Geralt has mostly tuned him out, until abruptly he wheels Roach around and makes a sharp gesture at Jaskier. His yellow cat-eyes scan the surrounding hills.

“Shut up, bard.”

Jaskier scoffs, and strums a few loud chords.

“Well you could at least ask nicely if you’re--”

An arrow stabs into the ground, an inch from Jaskier’s foot. Jaskier jumps into the air with a yelp.

Bandits seem to pour down from the hills, and Geralt and Roach charge in to deal with them. Jaskier, weaponless and frightened, darts off of the path in the opposite direction, down a small gully to hide behind a bush.

Well, he hasn’t lived this long by sticking around for the danger! Someone has to live to tell the tale, after all.

It’s over faster than Jaskier would have imagined. He catches glimpses of Geralt moving smoothly through the fight, a whirlwind of steel and white hair. The big witcher actually looks graceful, spinning on one heel and swinging his arm in a broad arc to lop off the last bandit’s head. Jaskier swallows, feeling odd and sort of warm all over.

When he’s certain the bandits are dead he doesn’t hesitate to scramble up the hill to where Geralt is standing amidst the carnage, sheathing his sword.

“Do people do that a lot?” Jaskier tells himself his voice isn’t that shaky as he brushes off the knees of his trousers and hoists his lute onto his back. “Just attack you out of nowhere?”

“Hmm.” Geralt stands from where he’d been crouched over one of the corpses. He slips their purse into Roach’s saddlebags, then mounts her in a smooth motion.

Jaskier wrinkles his nose at the corpse. He doesn’t usually see death up close like this--his experience is more of the ‘passing by the suspicious lump in the alleyway without looking too closely’ variety. He’s frightened, but with Geralt at his side starts to feel a little bit brave. The bandit certainly isn’t scary like this, with his stupid head lying across the path. He sticks his tongue out at the corpse and then jogs after Geralt and Roach.

“Well, they should know better, shouldn’t they? I don’t think you even broke a sweat.”

“Hmm.”

“No, I mean it. That was genuinely impressive.”

“Shut up, bard, or you’ll draw more of them.” Geralt turns his head away, but not before Jaskier catches something interesting in his expression. He jogs forward, until he’s striding beside Roach and level with Geralt’s knee. If he looks out of the corner of his eye he can just barely make out Geralt’s face. A sly smile curls his lips.

“Do people ever compliment you? Or are they too busy shitting themselves because you’re a big, scary witcher?”

Geralt stares straight ahead.

“That’s a shame, really. Compliments do wonders for the self-esteem. I can’t go long without one before I simply wither away like an autumn leaf. And there’s so much to compliment you on.”

“Fuck off.”

“Geralt, I’m being serious.” Alright, so maybe he was also teasing a bit, but Jaskier’s voice took on a strident, genuine note as he turned his head to gaze up at the witcher. “What you did back there might seem like nothing to you, but I was terrified. If they wanted to kill me they could have done so easily, except you were there so now they’re all lying in pieces while we make our merry way on. Take that, bandit, you don’t need your legs!” Jaskier laughs and makes a slicing motion as if severing an imaginary bandit’s torso from his lower appendages.

“It’s nice, not to have to be afraid of whatever random asshole comes my way. I think I’ll stick with you after all. It doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes as well.” Jaskier winks. Geralt keeps darting his eyes between Jaskier and the path ahead. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, but Jaskier doesn’t think it’s in a bad way at all. “Big witcher man with your nice hair and all that muscle beneath your armor. You looked like you were dancing, you know.”

“Jaskier…” It’s a low growl, a warning, and it sends a shiver straight down Jaskier’s spine. He bites his lower lip to keep from smiling too broadly, and that’s when he sees it:

The distinct, pale pink undertone blooming to life beneath Geralt’s glowing (beautiful) yellow eyes.

Oh. Jaskier is in trouble.

He clears his throat, taking a few steps to the side and letting Roach get a little bit ahead of him. He strums his lute, a spring in his step as he follows his witcher, imagining feeling the heat of Geralt’s blush beneath his fingertips.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #the witcher #fluff #fanfiction #geraskier prompts #my writing

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cora-vizsla · 4 years ago

Text

Cabur Chapter 4

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 3.7K+

Warnings: Playful butt smacks. Smut. Fluff. Like way more fluff than I imagined could be put in one chapter.

AN: Here is the next chapter. I honestly have no idea when I can get back to this. This semester is going to be rough but I'll be writing as much as possible. Thank you so much for everyone who has been reading this. I appreciate you more than words can say <3

You woke the next morning laying on your stomach with a giant arm slung across your waist. You smiled to yourself. You really hadn’t figured that things would go that way with Paz. Even once the two of you had talked about riduurok it hadn’t occurred to you that it would be more than just an agreement for the sake of the tribe.

You rolled over, careful not to jostle his arm as much as possible. He pulled you closer, resting his head on top of your shoulder. You stifled a laugh and just enjoyed how warm he was.

You thought about what led up to you sleeping all night in his bed. The two of you had picked on each other way more often than that but maybe it was just building to the point where something needed to happen. Din had said you were either going to kill each other or fuck each other. You guessed that the latter was better.

Eventually you made to move off the bed, but his iron grip kept you in place. He started peppering kisses across your skin again until you stopped him with a kiss of your own. He hummed against your mouth and you felt his smile.

“Good morning, cyare.”

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

“Hmm. I could wake up like this every morning.”

“I won’t argue with that. I really need to use the refresher though.”

He huffed but let you go. You went to stand up and silently gasped at how sore your legs were. You took a few steps and were able to find your helmet, slipping it on and turning on the night vision, careful not to look at him.

“Good thing this helmet helps me see or I’d trip. Stars Paz you left our armor everywhere.”

“I’m sorry should I have washed it before I took you to bed?”

You laughed and slipped out the door, rushing to the refresher to clean up. Once the door was shut you took the helmet off and caught your reflection in the mirror. You were absolutely covered in love bites and hickeys. You ran your fingers across them and shuddered. When you looked down you saw the ghost of his handprints on your hips that took up most of your waist. You took a quick shower which helped your sore muscles. Once you were done you wrapped the towel around yourself and slipped your helmet on. You set another towel out for him before opening the door.

“Do we need to go to the village or do we have time to-“

You turned to look at him, but he stopped speaking when he laid eyes on you. He was standing near the kitchen in nothing but his helmet and pants that sat low on his waist. You were eternally grateful for the helmet hiding the look on your face as you let your eyes wander all over his body.

“How.. uh.. how was your shower?”

“It was good. I was a bit sore, so the hot water felt good.”

You walked over to him and looked up, still holding the towel to your body.

“Sore? Now why would you be sore, cyare.”

His voice was playful, so you tilt your head to the side.

“Hmm. I wonder why that could be.”

You let the towel slip from your body and pool at your feet. You heard him inhale sharply as he looked at you. He traced his fingers down your neck softly and moved his hands to your hips.

“Liking what you see?”

He chuckled and gripped your waist tighter as he picked you up and set you on the counter. You hissed when your skin touched the cold below you but didn’t get a chance to focus for long. He pulled your legs apart at your knees and moved forward, so he was pressed against you.

“I very much so like seeing you so bare in front of me; covered in my marks. Wish I could have seen you last night all disheveled.”

“You’ll get to. I am to be your wife.”

You could hear the smile in his voice when he hummed and pulled you closer against him.

“I like the sound of you being mine.”

“Possessive, are we?”

“Only for beautiful women who make the most sinful noises when I’m buried in them.”

You laughed and felt the heat hit your face.

“Oh, so now I need to be worried about all these beautiful women you run into.”

“I’ve never in my days-“

“Those are a lot of days.”

“Shut up.”

You laughed and he cupped the sides of your helmet affectionately.

“Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted; I’ve never in my days seen a woman more beautiful than you.”

“You’re just-“

“I am not just saying it because you’re naked and I’m between your legs.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked up at him in defiance.

“And how do you know I’d say that?”

“Because I know you, cyare. I’ve been listening to you shit talk for a while.”

“Guess I need to change up then. Can’t let you get too comfortable.”

He chuckled and massaged your hips.

“I’m okay with that. Do we need to go to the village for anything today?”

“No. If they needed something a message would have been brought by now. They try to leave me alone a day or two a week cycle.”

“Why don’t we take a walk to my ship. I don’t have any comms other than that, so I wanted to check it and grab some more of my things.”

“Okay. Go hop in the shower and I’ll get ready. Good thing our armor is different colors, or I’d never be able to sort through it the way its tossed on your floor.”

“Cyare my armor makes yours look like pieces of scrap metal. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”

You playfully slapped at his chest and pushed him so you could slip off the counter. He ran his hands up and down your sides a few times before bumping his forehead to yours.

“I’ll be out soon.”

You smiled fully and hoped he was too. You were starting to catch yourself smiling more often and you hoped that wouldn’t change.

---

The walk to his ship wasn’t very long but you took your time. After spending so much time on desert planets, the greenery was exceptionally beautiful to you. It always filled you with awe seeing how everything found a way to grow no matter how much shade or crowding there was. Whereas Paz walked where was most convenient you always moved around things, especially smaller trees that were growing. Your reverence for life was unusual for someone trained to kill but Paz kept his eyes on you.

When a bird flew up in front of you, a small squeak came out of your mouth then you laughed fully. You watched it fly up into the trees and marveled how the light shone through the thick overhead of leaves. You looked back down and saw Paz was staring at you. You felt your face heat up realizing you had been acting childish.

“Sorry.”

You went to walk past him, but he grabbed your waist, pulling you into him.

“What are you sorry for?”

“I got distracted. I know you probably want to just get to your ship.”

“No, cayre. It hardly would have mattered what we did today just as long as I get to spend time with you. I like seeing you this way.”

“Being childish?”

“Full of so much life. You see the world differently than I do. I can’t even see your face, yet I can tell how much you love the forest. You look out for the small things just as much as you’re in awe of things bigger than you. You’re usually so guarded and shut off. Thank you for letting me see this part of you.”

Your face was positively on fire by the time he was done speaking.

“I just know that warriors-“

“Are allowed to hold onto who they are. If we were hunting or being hunted then perhaps I may be annoyed, but I think I would more so be distracted by just how beautiful you are.”

“Stop.”

“Nope.”

He let go of you and started walking. You looked over at him and shook your head. Paz was a brute of a man and his personality generally matched it. You wondered if Din knew just how soft and compassionate he could be but laughed at the thought.

“What’s so funny, mesh’la?”

“Just thinking about Din seeing you being so kind to me.”

“Oh, that’s funny?”

“Just Din seeing you do anything but yell and throw fists is funny to me.”

He hummed and suddenly pounced, grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over his shoulder. You screamed out a laugh and smacked at his back plate a few times. He rumbled out a laugh and carried you like you were nothing in his arms.

“Let me down!”

“Give me a good reason.”

“Because I’m going to be your wife.”

“Not yet. Try again.”

“Because you want to do anything to make me happy?”

He jostled you which only made you laugh again.

“You don’t sound unhappy. Try again.”

You huffed and propped your elbow up on his shoulder so you could rest your chin in your hand. You realized that you were pouting but you hardly cared. You were snapped out of your thoughts with a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped and tried to turn to look at him, but he tightened his arm on you.

“I told you to give me a good reason. Pouting isn’t a good reason.”

“You slapped me!”

“And I’ll do it again. Try again.”

He was trying to sound menacing but there was no part of you that thought he actually wanted to hurt you.

“Because it will deplete your energy carrying around dead weight.”

“Are you saying I’m not strong enough?”

“No! Stars don’t take it that way.”

“Try. Again.”

You smirked when your plan came into place.

“Because I’d rather be wrapped around your waist than tossed over your shoulder.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and pulled you, yanking you to his chest. You wrapped your legs around him and laughed.

“Is that so?”

“Does it matter? I got what I wanted either way.”

He growled and set you on your feet.

“I guess you didn’t learn last night that being a brat won’t get you far with me.”

You walked away from him, a bounce in your step. Once you were able to get a few steps away from him you looked to the side, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t know, Paz. It got me right into your bed, didn’t it?”

His steps faltered, followed by a few moments of silence.

“Cabur?”

“Yes?”

“Just wait until we get to the ship.”

---

The rest of the trip was spent laughing and pointing out different things in the forest. He pressed buttons on his bracer once you reached the ship. You looked it over and heard him shuffle.

“It’s not the newest ship.”

“Better than Din’s piece of shit Razor Crest.”

Paz barked out a laugh so you shrugged.

“I mean I’m not wrong. I feel bad his poor ad’ika is flying in that thing.”

“He takes good care of it at least.”

“That he does. It would need to be blown up for him to give up on it.”

Paz nodded and walked inside heading right for the cockpit. You walked to the side and touched the large weapon he always wore into a fight. It almost looked like a flamethrower, but you knew better. Flames would feel better than the straight lava that was thrown out of it. When you heard the ship hum to life you walked up to where he was sitting.

“Any messages?”

“A few from the Armorer as she moves. Not as many perished as we thought.”

“What happened then?”

“They just left. Took their armor off and left it behind.”

“Oh.”

You leaned over the back of the chair and loosely wrapped your arm around the upper part of his chest. He brought his left hand up and put it on your arm while his other hand flipped through messages.

“Looks like this is still the safest place for us. At least for the time being.”

You nodded and looked up to see the sky was starting to darken.

“Nighttime already.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun, mesh’la.”

“I guess so.”

You moved back as he stood. He took your hand and led you to the upper hatch.

“Go up there and sit. I have some rations we can eat.”

With a nod you pulled yourself up, easily climbing on top of his ship. You could hear him rummaging around but you were more focused on the forest. You were honestly relieved that the tribe hadn’t settled. You didn’t want to leave what was now your home, but you would have if it meant going with Paz.

“Here.”

You turned to see Paz handing you a ration bar. He shifted himself through the hatch and you held back a laugh at how hard it was for him to fit. Without his armor he would have made it easily but the beskar made him even more bulky. He sat down next to you and set the ration down on the other side.

“We can head back after we eat if you’d like.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. I usually spend a lot of time outside even at night.”

He shifted his body so he could put his hand on your shoulder piece.

“Why don’t you have a signet?”

“My clan never took one.”

“You could have chosen your own.”

“I never took pride in killing anything. Nor was I out doing anything after being given my title long enough to earn anything.”

“Would you.. will you take my signet?”

“The mythosaur?”

He nodded once.

“I didn’t earn that.”

“Neither did I. I was born into the family, so I adapted it to keep the Vizla clan alive. As my riduur you would be part of the Vizla clan. Din decided to break out on his own so it’s all on me now.”

“It would be an honor to wear your signet, Paz.”

“I can either have the Armorer make you new pieces or add them to what you have. Whatever you end up wanting.”

“We can decide that together. I want you to have a say in how your signet looks.”

Paz started moving his hand around and you tilted your head to the side. You hadn’t even noticed he had anything when he came up.

“It’s going to take time to get to her with everything going on. This was my biur’s. It was given to her when she became part of the clan. She wore it until the day she went on her final journey.”

He placed a mythosaur pendent in your hand. It was attached to a sturdy chain and felt heavier than you expected it to.

“Is this beskar?”

He nodded and watched you run your gloved fingers over it.

“It’s beautiful, Paz. Are.. are you sure you want to give this to me? This means so much to you and even just the metal alone I-”

“I am sure. I’ve held it with me hoping that one day I would add someone to my clan worthy of wearing it.”

Again, you were grateful for your helmet because there was no way you were holding the tears back.

“Thank you. I wish I had something to give you. I don’t.. I don’t feel worthy of any of this. You saved my life and now you’re being sucked into a marriage out of guilt and gi-“

Your voice cracked and Paz moved quickly so he was directly in front of you. He closed his hands around yours holding the pendant. His hands were so big that you could barely see your own. You took a steadying breath before speaking again.

“You’re giving me a pendant that means more to me than I have ever meant to anyone. You’re giving me a proud clan and a riduur that is strong. I have nothing to give you in return.”

“You’re giving me a chance to carry on with this clan. You’re giving me a strong riduur that would fight wars by my side. You’re giving me a reason to wake up in the morning beyond fighting. Our story didn’t start in the most peaceful or beautiful way, but I am determined to make it end that way. I feel no obligation to marry you. I want to be by your side because that is where I belong until we take our final journey.”

He pressed his helmet to yours and you sniffled.

“Cyare, my biur would have loved you and welcomed you with so much pride. Any clan would be lucky to have you join them.”

“I will forever be the lucky one. You can’t change my mind on that.”

“I will spend the rest of our lives trying to.”

You smiled and shut your eyes as the last tears fell down your face. The air around you felt free and light at his confession. It didn’t feel forced or overwhelming. It just felt right. So, when Paz started speaking you spoke with him, sure of everything you were saying. Nothing had ever felt so right to you.

“Mhi solus tome.

Mhi solus dar'tome.

Mhi me'dinui an.

Mhi ba'juri verde.”

Once you were done speaking, you both reached up to each other’s helmets and gently pulled them off. You felt your hair fall from the helmet, but you were far too concerned about the face finally looking back at you. You set his helmed down on your lap and put your hands on his face. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes you had ever seen. You had an idea that he had a strong jaw line but was blown away by what you were seeing. He smiled at you and you felt yourself break out in a grin as well.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were handsome?”

He chuckled and leaned into your touch.

“Would it have gotten you to share vows with me sooner?”

You smirked.

“Perhaps.”

He growled playfully and yanked you forward so you were straddling him. You looked up at him, finally able to look him in the eyes.

“You are much more beautiful when you aren’t dying.”

You giggled and he kissed you. You tossed your arms around his neck and his hands moved to your hips, holding you as close as your armor would let you be. The two of you kissed like your life was depending on it; the only way you could possibly survive was to have your lips working with his. When you finally pulled away your chest was heaving, and you smiled to see his was too.

“I’m glad you came to find me.”

“Me too, riduur. Now you will never be alone again.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and you smiled at it finally being flesh instead of a helmet. The two of you held onto each other, reveling in the closeness and belonging you both felt. It was crazy to you how everything had started but you were so happy it had. He was right. You weren't going to be alone, and neither was he.

---

It seemed like you had been in his arms your entire life. Nothing about it felt strange or awkward. When he slipped on the pendant the weight of it felt perfect. It would be a constant reminder of your promise to him and the history of his clan that you would always try to live up to. He had given you so much and you wanted to return that to him somehow.

The air was cold on your bare flesh but the heat between your bodies was making up for it. Both of you had taken your time pulling off your armor until there was nothing left to remove. When he pushed you gently onto your back you smiled when your skin met fabric instead of cold metal.

When he moved so he was hovering over you, you let your hands gently trace down his chest. He watched you intently while you tried to learn every inch of his body. You looked back up at him and he kissed you, consuming you entirely. You moaned softly as you felt him press into you, filling you entirely.

“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Stars I never want to be anywhere else but right here.”

He started peppering kisses down your neck and gently moving in and out of you. He kissed down until he was right above the pendant that was laying against your bare chest.

“Look at you, laying below me wearing my signet. Fuck, mesh’la. How did I get so lucky?”

You looked into his eyes before he crashed his lips against you again. You held him close to you as he passionately made love to you. That’s the only way you could describe it. It was nothing like any other time had been to you. This was your riduur, your partner for life. No one else could ever hold you the way that he did, and no one would ever even get the chance to try.

He wrapped his arms around you and leaned back onto his knees, bringing you with him. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you two continued to move in harmony. One hand caged you against him and the other laced through your hair, tilting your head back so you were facing him.

“Look at me, cyare. Let me see you.”

You opened your eyes and looked into his. You saw so much love and adoration looking back at you. He continued to roll his hips up into you as the air was filled with your breathless moans. It all was overwhelming. His presence and the feelings washing between the two of you made tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He kept kissing you and pulling away to look at your face.

“Stars, Paz.”

“Yes. Come undone for me. Let me see you. Let me see all of you, my beautiful riduur. Cum for me.”

He hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you cried out when your orgasm washed over you. Paz groaned in response and held onto you tighter as he started pounding into you, chasing his own release. He kissed you as he came deep in you and held you close to him. You both were panting, desperate to pull more air in. Once he set you onto your back and laid next to you, he turned you so he could look at your face again.

“Gar cuyir ner yaim, mesh'la, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

You cuddled into his chest and he took your hands in his, gently kissing your knuckles.

“I love you too, Paz Vizla. From now until the end of time.”

—-

Translation for last sentence- “you are my home, beautiful, I love you.”

#paz vizsla #paz x female!reader #paz x reader #fanfic #smut #love

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phantoms-lair · 4 years ago

Note

Kakashi-sensei looked like he wanted to sigh if it wouldn't completely ruin his image, the rest of the team just looked DONE, while the kid they had just accidentally summoned looked both very confused and very willing to throw down.

(Note: This is pre Wave arc for Naruto and post Sports Festival arc for BNHA)

Thankfully the kid had no training against genjustsu and a simple sleep jutsu put him out like a light. Then had been an awkward report to the Sandaime that Naruto had tried the Kuchiyose jutsu without a contract and had managed to summon this random kid.

An ANBU Kakashi knew was a Hyuga had looked the kid over and determined he certainly wasn’t a ninja, as his chakra coils were undeveloped even for a civilian, though there was some residue of Naruto’s chakra as a result of the summoning. It was at this point they woke the kid up for an apology.

Midoriya Izuku was not happy about being essentially kidnapped, which Kakashi supposed was fair. He was less happy that they had no idea how to get him home, which was also fair. But Kakashi thought it so typical of a teenage boy that what set him off was a girl insulting him.

“Only you, Naruto, could actually manage to summon something and have it be some guy who couldn’t even fight.” Sakura claimed flippantly.

Naruto opened his mouth to retort, but Midoriya beat him to it. “I can fight just fine. Probably better than you.”

Sakura glared at him and pointed to her headband. “I am a proud Shinobi of the Leaf, you’re just a civilian.”

“Your headband doesn’t mean anything to me, but your arms and legs do. You have very little definition on them. Oh, you exercise, but not to build strength.”

“There’s more to a battle than brute force.” Sakura chided.

“You’re right, there’s also observation and gathering intel. Neither of which you did before coming to a conclusion.”

Sakura’s eyes darkened and she lashed out at him like she did Naruto, only to find her blow dodged.

Kakashi smiled. For all the mess this was, Midoriya had just provided him a wonderful opportunity for an object lesson. It was easy for Ninja, especially Genin, to come to the conclusion that chakra was the best indicator of ability.

Chakra was an extremely useful and versatile tool, true, which was why anyone with the slightest hint of potential was trained in its use in a Hidden Village. But Midoriya wasn’t from a Hidden Village (he was apparently training to be a ‘Hero’, which Kakashi was guessing was like a more free-form Samurai). But in the end it was just a tool, and a clever opponent could wreak havoc without using it at all.

Hmm, in retrospect, maybe they needed to cover this with Jounin too. They had written Midoriya off as a non threat because he didn’t develop his chakra coils after all.

“Midoriya, would you care to give a demonstration?” Kakashi smiled. Midoriya looked over the three genin. “I’d rather not hurt anyone.” They didn’t take this well. Sakura looked like she was about to go off, Naruto was going off, shouting at Midoriya that he wasn’t weak, and even Sasuke’s eyes narrowed.

Kakashi smiled more. “I was thinking of Naruto’s clones.” “Fine by me!” Naruto immediately formed the Ram Seal and a second Naruto screamed and charged towards Midoriya.

Midoriya reacted with a surprised gut punch that caused the clone to vanish in a puff of smoke. It was hard to tell who was more surprised by this, Naruto or Midoriya. “You might try some tactics next time.” Kakashi advised.

Naruto nodded and created another clone. This one didn’t charge blindly, and as a result Midoriya had a much harder time with it. But after he popped it the next one went down quicker. And then the one after that. Kakashi resisted the urge to whistle. Naruto prided himself on being unpredictable, but this kid was obviously learning patterns and adapting to them. He couldn’t really gauge the strength behind the blows - it didn’t take much to disrupt a clone- and the fighting style itself was one that Kakahi mentally referred to as ‘Advanced Brawler’. It was the type of movements seen when someone wasn’t trained, but fought enough to be able to be somewhat effective.

Unfortunately for their guest he had hit the limit of Naruto’s pride. He angrily slammed his hands into the Ram Seal and more than a dozen Narutos roared as they charged in.

There was a moment of pure panic in MIdoriya’s eyes before he leaped back to given himself more room. His body began crackling with a green energy that had Kakashi’s headband off his eye and his Sharingan active.

“TEXAS SMASH” Midoriya yelled, punching the air in front of him. A shockwave ran through it, dispersing all the clones at one.

Naruto’s jaw dropped. “How..How did…?”

“Was that wind chakra?” Sakura asked, breathlessly.

“No,” Kakashi said, covering his eye back up. The Sharingan was not as good at seeing chakra coils as the Byakugan, but it was enough for this. “Whatever it was, it used no chakra whatsoever.”

“How is that possible?” Sasuke asked, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know,” Kakashi answered. “Yet.”

“A report already?” Sarutobi looked up. “It hasn’t even been twenty minutes?”

“We have severely underestimated the danger level of our guest.” Kakashi said bluntly. “In addition to being highly adaptable, he’s capable of throwing a punch that can generate a shockwave capable of disrupting a wide field of shadow clones. All without a drop of chakra.”

Sarutobi’s eyes narrowed and his posture straightened, shedding the grandfatherly mein for the one once known as the God of Shinobi. “And what do you suggest we do.”

“Use him.” Kakashi said plainly. “He’s powerful, but not hostile towards us.” Annoyed, but not hostile. “Until Jiraya gets here with the Toads, make use of his abilities. Room and board should be a given, as we did kidnap him and we don’t want to foster resentment. But I’m thinking of an exchange of use in training for actually learning a form. It could be one of the simple ones we teach civilians for self defense, or even the Academy Standard, but it will be more than he currently has. In return, he serves as a training dummy and humility checker.”

Sarutobi took a puff of his pipe. “Humility checker?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Every fresh graduate thinks getting to keep the headband means they’re a fully capable ninja until they get smacked by reality - usually in the form of an enemy ninja and the dead body of one or more comrades. Midoriya will let me drive that home without them being in life threatening danger. The fact that he doesn’t have the capacity for ninjitsu should knock them off their high horses a bit.”

“Very well.” But the Hokage fixed him with a glare. “But f you think one one second he’s a threat to them-”

“Midoriya Izuku will cease to exist.” Kakashi said easily. As if he would do anything else.

His orders given the shadow clone dispersed itself.

#Ghost Writing #Naruto #BNHA #Contract of Heroes #I have at least two more segments planned for this #Anonymous

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lackingspace · 5 years ago

Text

Tender Sugar (Bo Sinclair)

Rated: EXPLICIT

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Not reader, Name used, Suggestive language and themes, explicit dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, spanking, fingering, uhh kinda like pseudo-exhibition kink, squirting, hmm Im sure theres something else I forgot

Author Note: Ok, this is a super special piece for @yourlocalslasher. It was her B-day yesterday and well, she loves Bo just as much as me, so I HAD to write her something. So again, NOT A READER- used a name, but its not heavy-handed. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

You’d finished breakfast and went to Bo’s truck without a second thought. Hadn’t seemed like there was anything else to discuss after giving Vincent a reminder to bring some snacks with him to the basement, but the look on Bo’s face screamed that something must have happened after you'd left the room.

"Everything okay there?" He didn’t even grace you with a look before he said, "Right as rain, Sugar" his grip on the steering wheel said different- just little too tight, too much force when shifting gears, "Right as rain." He was such a liar.

But you let it go. Nothing good ever came from pushin Bo when Bo didn’t offer up an argument. Usually boded better if you let him come to whatever conclusion he wanted first and then wait for him to initiate. So you had no intention of straying away from your tried and true method. Just had to wait it out.

And it paid off. Fuck, had it paid off.

You’d decided to spend the day with Bo at the station on a whim, not like you had much else to do today- besides it’d been quiet for a while now. Bo’d made the offer to teach you about engines earlier that week. Learning was always good and it occupied your time, so why not? Can’t say you had a huge interest in mechanics, but maybe it’d come in handy one day, who knew. You’d always heard learning how to change a flat was important, but no one had ever offered, so you’d never learned. Maybe now you had that chance.

But you didn’t want to make the ask if your boyfriend’s mood was veiled in annoyance. You’d give him space to cool off, but you didn’t really need to worry. When he pulled up outside the station and got out you watched him move towards the back of the truck before turning to open your door. Having to fight with the latch for any small amount of give, after a minute you were finally free.

Once you had the door open and looked up Bo was standing there with a raised brow, “Havin some trouble there, Sugar?” You gave him a flat look, “I’m tellin you this side needs some WD-40, it sticks.” He leaned in and gripped your waist to lift you out of the truck while rolling his eyes, “Sticks my ass, opens just fine for me.”

You huffed as your feet hit the ground, “Yeah, says the man with muscles. I don’t have that advantage you brute.” He looked down at you with a smirk, “Well, it’s a good thing these muscles will be around a long while to help my little princess out.” The slight flush it caused was instantaneous and you felt it in your face and in your chest. He was definitely annoyed before, but now he was being sweet? Something was definitely up, so you ignored his comment in favor of turning around to head into the shop.

Before you could take more than a step away, his hand was snaking down an arm to grip around your wrist. Tugging you back only to spin you around before he boxed you in against the door, "Now, where do you think you’re scurrying off to so quick, sugar?" He gripped your chin surprisingly gently, something that was rare for him, and tilted it up so you locked eyes, “It ain’t right to ignore a man when he’s declaring his devotion. Mighty rude to just walk away don’t you think?" You would have answered, you had some words to say that a man shouldn’t tease so early this side of the sun, but the hand that had been resting on your hip had slithered around to fondle your backside.

Of course Bo would use this to get his hands on you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them on you, it was just that he’d done it so unexpected and you were still wary of the attitude change. It wasn’t that you were afraid, far from it- just had you on edge because it meant he had something planned and shocking you was a favorite past time of his. Hopefully this shock was a good one.

"That silence ain’t helpin any, Luce." His grip on your ass turned rougher which finally knocked you back to reality, "Bo! It’s barely 10 in the mornin and you’re already copin a feel?!" His hand only got more aggressive in his fondling, "You really complainin ‘bout that?” Ok, he had you there, unable to really deny it you flushed further and narrowed your eyes at him, “can’t help that this ass was made for the palm of my hand," he gave you a slight smack, nothing too hard, but had heat flash through you and settle between your legs, “Love the way it bounces when you take a spankin…or my cock” That had you groaning and looking away, couldn’t take the eye contact when he talked like that.

Only that provided him the opportunity he needed to lean down and nuzzle your throat. A few kisses were placed here and there which had your pulse pick up and the heat between your legs worsen. He nipped at your ear before whispering, "Besides, I reckon it deserves a good spanking today. Turn it a cute red to match that blushin face.” The thrill that shot down your spine had your senses buzzing. Your nipples starting to pebble between his words and his mouthing at your throat, "w-what?"

He was too busy making sure love bites would be visible on your throat for the next few days to answer. Groaning from the treatment you tried again, "Bo, what?" Again, silence as his mouth littered kisses and hickies along your pulse, "Why do you wanna give me spankings today, Daddy? What’d I do?" Now that got a response. Bo loved when you played the daddy card. You wanted something and he was being unresponsive? 9 times out of 10 if you dropped that name on him he’d hear you out- if nothing else it always sent his arousal from 0 to 100 and horny Bo was easier to get to talk than angry Bo. It was especially effective if you whined and begged for him.

He pulled back to answer your confusion, "See, sugar, learned something interesting from Vinny just before we left." His hands were back to kneading from your hips down to your ass, "Oh? What was that?" He tilted his head and you could see the mischievousness in his eyes- a certain twinkle, decidedly not angry, thank god for that, “Seems someone told my brother it was their birthday and never mentioned it to Daddy.” Oh fuck, you’d completely forgotten! You’d meant to tell him last week when you heard the date on the radio down in the basement with Vincent. You were helping him clean up down there while he was going about his business and the radio announcer had shouted the date, you’d perked up and told Vincent, but by supper time rolling around you’d completely forgotten. It wasn’t like you stared down the date here. Sometimes you actually forgot what month it was let alone the week or day.

Shit, maybe you wanted angry Bo because that look he’d given you spoke of edging and you weren’t sure if you could take it this early in the day. Panicked you tried to hastily explain, “Bo, I completely forgot! I meant to tell you last week, but it slipped my mind!” You were going to add more on, more explanation, more begging for him not to be too harsh on you, to not edge you within an inch of your life, but he was already tugging you along to the back of his truck while cutting you off, “You don’t gotta explain there, birthday girl. I get it you’re just more fond of my brother than your boyfriend. I see how it is.”

The tailgate was already down, when had he done that? Must have been when you were struggling with the damn door. You tried to respond as quick as you could, “Bo! That’s not true! You know you’re my number one. You’re the one I wanna curl up with at night.” He gave you a hum as if he was contemplating it while rubbing a hand soothingly down your arm, but what he said had your insides clenching and your nerves shoot up, “Take those pants off for me.”

Your throat went dry as you registered what he wanted- and your nipples were achingly hard scratching against your bra, “W-what?” He smacked your ass again, this time harder than before, “Did I stutter, Sugar? You heard me.” You had...But here? It was so open...what if Vincent or Lester were wondering around town...or worse if some tourists were lured in, “B-but Bo, its...we’re in public…” That earned you another swat, “I don’t rightly care, pants off now, Lucie. Before Daddy changes his mind and you won’t like it.”

You couldn’t lie, the demand and idea had you hot enough that you could feel how wet you were. Not drenched, but definitely on the way there, hopefully he’d take care of it soon and wouldn’t make you beg too much. Ever so slowly you reached down to unbutton your pants and drag them down your legs. As you were doing that he’d maneuvered to hop up on the tailgate and sit at the edge to watch you strip, “Panties too, Lucie.” A fresh wave of heat pulsed through you at the way he said your name and the fact you’d be in the middle of town with your wet pussy out on display.

You went to grab your shirt to lift because why wouldn’t he want that too? But he stopped you, “Nah, keep that on for me. Like the way your tits look in it.” With a red face, you put your hands behind your back waiting for what he wanted you to do next. After a few moments of him raking his eyes up and down- tilting his head when he looked to your wet center before he smirked and said, “Get your sweet little ass up here, Sugar. Lay across daddy’s lap.” With a gulp, you climbed up and settled over his lap. Thank god he’d had you keep your shirt on because your breast would have ached against the cold metal- your knees certainly were.

You felt him smooth a hand down your ass, gripping a cheek and then the other before sliding down to your dripping core, “Already so wet for me, Lucie, and I’ve barely done anything.” He speared a finger down through your wet folds, “So needy for Daddy even here out in public, where anyone could see.” You groaned into your arms and tried to squeeze your thighs together for friction, but he wasn’t having it. With a slap to one of your cheeks he said, “uh ah, Daddy didn’t give you permission for that.”

Eyes shutting at the delicious sting that slap had sent through you before you let out a deep breath as he soothed the area, “You’re such a little whore for me, Lucie. Look at you,” He gave another spank a little harder than before and soothed the area as you groaned, “Ass and pussy out, drippin down your thighs. Anyone could look out a window or walk by and you’d still push that ass up in the air for me, huh? Needy slut like you don’t care who sees, do ya?” Oh, he wanted to play up the public angle like there were really people in town watching. Fuck, that did something to your brain- sent tingles down your spine and a fire through your veins.

Pushing your ass back into his hand just like he’d said, you whined, “You’re right, always want you to play with me. Don’t matter where.” You felt his cock twitch against your stomach as he chuckled, “There’s my cute little cockslut...bein all nasty desperate for it when that good Christian lady could be lookin out her window across the street.” He tapped your cheek as he said, “Would give her a heart attack seen this tight little ass taking a good spanking before breakfast.” A finger trailed back between your pussy lips, “Might even let em watch how good this pussy can swallow up my cock too.” You groaned because god damn was this man lethal, but all these light touches and love taps were driving you insane.

You needed him making your ass red or fucking that hard-on you could feel deep into your wet cunt in the next five minutes or you might just spontaneously combust, “Bo...Daddy, please, please! I need something- Spank me, finger me, fuck me...Whichever I just need it! Please! I’m so achy and empty...” You heard his smug laugh, “Beggin already princess? But damn it sounds so pretty out those lips of yours.” You made another whine when all he did was roughly grip the flesh of your ass, but nothing else, “How old ya turning, Sugar?” So you mumbled out your age and he tapped your ass, “Think we’ll add on a few more after that for good luck. I won’t make ya count them, birthday girl privileges and all that. Just enjoy it, babe.”

And goddamn did you enjoy it. The sound of his palm meeting your flesh rang out in the area, Vinny or Lester would definitely hear if they were around town- no way they couldn’t hear. The sting of his slaps were delicious and he rained them down all over. Some a little higher, some lower, even on the backs of your thighs. You could feel how hot your flesh was from the treatment and all you could manage was to sob out in pleasure as you begged him for more. “That’s it, Lucie, takin it like a good little whore for me.”

Another rough smack low near your thighs had please rolling off your tongue, “Look at that fucking jiggle, all nice and red for me too. You gonna feel this for a good week.” with a few more quick and heavy-handed slaps he finally cooed at you while soothing the area, but all it did was make you needier with how sensitive you were, “Thinkin you deserve a little treat after takin it like such a good girl for me.” he cupped your sex as you cried and squirmed in his lap, “want my fingers or my cock in this drippin little hole?” you felt your clit pulse at his offer and before you could answer he was already shoving two fingers in, “I don’t even need to ask do I? You’re always thirsty for this cock.”

You didn’t care that you looked like a mess, that you definitely had drool down your chin, and you definitely didn’t care to try and deny what he was saying because he was right. You were always thirsty for it and good on him for realizing you were crazy for his bastard self. So you just made a half attempt of nodding while tucking your knees under you to raise up slightly for more leverage to push back against the hand that was fucking into you, “That’s it, baby. Fuck this little cunt on my fingers. So wet and desperate for it.”

His other hand reached under you to rub at your clit, “You’re gonna fuck yourself on my fingers until you cum and then I’m gonna make you squirt on my cock, right here out in the open. Got that, Sugar?” You whined but didn’t make any other acknowledgment. You felt a jerk in his fingers inside you curling at just the right area to hit against your G-spot, “I asked you a fuckin question, Lucie and I expect a damn answer. You got that?” your head shot up as he hammered against that magical spot, “Yes! Yes, Bo! Yes, daddy! I got it! Please just let me cum, please!”

Your hips were pushing back just as fast as he was hammering his finger into you and down on your clit had you cumming within the next few minutes with a scream of his name. “That’s right, baby girl tell ‘em all who just made your toes curl.” You didn’t even need to look to see the smirk that was on his face, it was plain in his voice. His hand in your pussy was still slowly moving, helping in your come down while his other hand moved to rub circles on your back. “You did so good, Lucie. But we ain’t done yet sugar.”

Your breath hitched, that’s right, he wants you to squirt on his cock outside in front of the station. That thought was already making your sensitive pussy tighten around his fingers still in you, “Oh, I felt that darlin, you need my cock that bad after cumming so soon?” at your nod he pulled his fingers out and gave your ass one last resounding spank, “Of course my nasty girl does, wouldn’t be a cockslut otherwise.”

At that he picked you up like it was nothing as he stood before turning and placing your back to the tailgate. Looking up at him he was giving you such a devious smirk that it automatically had your legs spreading and your knees pulling up to your chest. His smirk only deepened, “Look at that puffy swollen cunt all ready for a pounding. Hold yourself open for me, babe. Wanna see that hole ready for my cock.” you groaned out his name but did as he asked and looped your arms around your thighs to hold yourself open for him- had the added benefit of locking your knees to your chest too.

He didn’t even undress fully just unbuttoned his jumpsuit enough to take his cock out and slap it against the top of your pussy before sliding it down to your open hole, “You look so good like this, sugar. Gonna look even better stretched out around my cock.” As he said that he’d been tracing a hand between your folded legs up your stomach along the bottom of your shirt. In a tight grip, he ripped it up and pulled your bra down, “Wanna see these tits bounce while I fuck this pussy.” you answered with a, “Mmhmm, anything you want, just put it in, please!” his hand continued up to your throat while he slid into you.

His hand clearly felt the vibrations of the deep moan you let out when he finally hilted inside you. “Feel so snug in here. Your cunts always so tight for me. Let’s see if we can stretch it a little, sugar.” and he was rapidly moving within you. He didn’t pull any punches, no starting off slow and building up, no he went full force and stayed that way. You were constantly sobbing at the feel of him, your tits were bouncing just like he’d wanted, and the hand at your throat was putting just enough pressure to add to your pleasure, “Touch that clit for me. Hammer down on it hard and don’t stop. Said you were gonna squirt and I mean it.”

He adjusted his hips and finally found that magic spot that had you crying out, “Right there! Don’t stop, right there! Just like that, please, Bo!” He cooed at your begging and kept at that spot, “Look at this cunt swallow up my cock, looks like its more desperate than you are. Such a dirty fucking girl lettin me do this to ya out here.” You were so keyed up that his words were almost background noise, you could feel the pressure building and you wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So you listened to his advice and kept your harsh pace on your clit while he kept hammering into that spot. It only took a few more moments before you were crying out a mix of his name and please and then finally a half moan half scream as you came hard against him. He’d got what he wanted, you definitely squirted and your pussy had gotten so tight that it set his orgasm off too. He pulled out of your quickly to aim up at your chest and face- most landed on your breast, but some painted against your cheek.

You were like jelly, just floating and you had no intention of moving. Vaguely you felt a hand stroking your hair and that finally brought you back to your senses. With a full-body stretch you groaned, you were an utter mess, “Happy Birthday, Lucie.” And then he laid a kiss to your forehead and you absolutely didn’t care about the cum cooling on your chest.

#hope you liked it!#Idk how well I did #but hope it was decent!#Happy birthday!#ily!#bo sinclair #slasher smut #writing gift #house of wax #house of wax smut #slasher community #slasher writing #slashers #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair x reader #and if anyone is this deep in tags yes im still writing jelly danny he almost done

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440mxs-wife · 4 years ago

Text

The Great Debate

Pairing: Sam x Reader. Other Characters: Dean, Sheriff, Deputy Frank Walters (OMC’s)

Word Count: 6080+

Warnings: mild show-level violence

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you kidding me, Sam?" you exclaimed. "There's no question in my mind who would win that fight," you grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes from the front seat of the Impala. He turned around to face you sitting in the back seat. "Okay, Miss Smarty Pants, who do YOU think would win that fight?" he demanded.

You let out an exasperated sigh before answering. "First of all, I don't think, Sam, I already know. Lieutenant Worf from Starfleet would definitely win in a fight against Chewbacca!" you retorted.

Sam snorted. "No way! Chewie has the brute strength, not to mention he's oh, I don't know, EIGHT FEET TALL," Sam shot back.

"Maybe so, but Lieutenant Worf is a KLINGON, plus he has the training and the skills to fight with multiple weapons. He doesn't just rely on 'brute strength'," you mocked.

"Yeah, but--" Sam started.

"Oh, for crying out loud, will you two nerds just shut up!" Dean thundered.

You and Sam glared at each other for about ten seconds, then busted out laughing at Dean's outburst.

"Relax, Dean. We're not really fighting," you explained between giggles.

"Yeah Dean, relax. Just two best friends having a healthy debate of Star Wars vs. Star Trek, and why Star Wars is the best," Sam grinned.

"As if, Sam!" you shot back in mock annoyance, playfully swatting Sam's arm. You looked at Dean just in time to see him roll his eyes at the antics going on between you and his brother.

You and the Winchesters were on your way to tracking down the cause of some unusual activity in Colorado. All indications pointed to demons, especially with the traces of sulfur left behind at the crime scenes.

Dean pulled into a space in the parking lot of the Moonstone Motel. He gave the two of you one last glare before he exited the Impala and headed for the motel manager's office.

That left just you and Sam in the car, which served to kick your heart rate up a bit. His chin rested in the crook of his elbow, his arm perched on the edge of the front seat. He looked at you with a playful grin on his face.

"What?" you asked with a chuckle.

"Nothing," he replied, still with that grin on his face. "You look pretty today," he remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the unexpected compliment from an unexpected source. Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dean opened the car door and settled back into the driver's seat.

Dean parked the Impala in front of the rooms, then handed you a key for your own room, #12. Sam followed his brother to their room, #11. As you put the key into the lock, Dean was doing the same for their room. You flashed Sam a warm smile, then ducked into your room.

You dropped your bag on one of the chairs and perched on the edge of the bed. You took a deep breath then flopped back onto the mattress. After staring at the ceiling for a while, you decided to take a shower. While washing your hair, you replayed the events that had occurred in the car just before you arrived at the motel.

It was an age-old debate between you and Sam, Star Wars vs. Star Trek. It was something the two of you liked to engage in to annoy the hell out of Dean on long car rides. He endured it for as long as he could, then usually ended up telling the both of you to shut up. Sometimes, either you or Sam tried to get in one last parting shot against the other. Dean would again yell at the offender to shut up, and that would be the end of it.

You thought back on some of your previous discussions. Marvel vs. DC, Lord of the Rings vs. Harry Potter, even Looney Tunes vs. Tom and Jerry. Sam had fought you tooth and nail on most of those until you finally had to call a truce, basically agreeing to disagree.

However, today's debate ended without the usual fanfare of one of you trying to get in the last word. It was almost like he let you win, but Sam wasn't known to do that. He was nothing if not persistent, practically to the point of being irritating. There was no way you could ever be angry with Sam for long, though, not with how you felt about him. Then there was his last comment, just before Dean got back in the car. What was up with that? you wondered.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You had first met the Winchesters about seven years ago, when they rescued you on a shapeshifter hunt in Evansville, Indiana. Your hunting partner, Andrew, had been captured by the shifter. You tracked it through the sewer tunnels beneath the city, but by the time you found Andrew, it was too late. As you tried to recover from your initial shock of Andrew's death, the shifter ambushed you. You got knocked around, hit your head a couple of times and broke your arm in the process.

The shifter managed to get the upper hand and knocked you to the ground again. Your silver knife was just out of your reach, and you were fighting hard just to remain conscious. As the shifter was about to strike the final blow, Dean came out of the shadows and killed it.

Sam came rushing to your side, checking you for injuries, while Dean looked around for other shifters and/or victims. Once Sam was satisfied you could be moved without causing further injury, he picked you up and put you in the backseat of your '68 Nova. He drove you to the hospital and stayed while you were treated for your broken arm and probable concussion.

The hospital wouldn't release you on your own due to the concussion, so Sam volunteered to be responsible for you. He drove your car back to the motel, which happened to be the same one that they were staying in, only a couple of doors down. You spent the evening getting to know Sam, while Dean went off to the local bar to celebrate a successful hunt.

As the months went by, the two of you became best friends. After awhile, you found that your feelings toward Sam had begun to change. At first, you dismissed it as some sort of "hero worship", from the aftermath of the shifter case. Then, you thought maybe it was infatuation, from the way he took care of you, almost like a "Florence Nightingale" effect.

Eventually, you realized that your feelings for the younger Winchester went beyond best friends and were not related to the shifter incident. However, after having had your heart broken before, you were reluctant to take that leap of faith to reveal your true feelings to Sam.

Over time, you've done your best to hide them, push them down and pretend they didn't exist. Even so, the current course of action was becoming more difficult with every smile, every lingering look and every touch that electrified your skin. After what happened on the car ride today, you knew something was going to break sooner or later. You just weren't sure what you'd do when it did.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In Room #11

"So, what do you say, Sammy? What say we find a bar, have a few drinks and go check out the 'local wildlife', hmm?" Dean grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam was researching something on his laptop. "Nah, you go on ahead, Dean. I'll just stay here, see what else I can find out about this case," he mumbled, eyes never leaving the computer screen.

"Come on, Sammy, you know what they say. All research and no whiskey makes Sam a dull boy," Dean teased.

Sam threw Dean one of his famous bitch faces. "Really Dean? That's the best you've got?" he grumbled.

"What's with you, man? You don't want to come out tonight for a drink and to dance with a pretty girl, you'd rather stay in. Oh, and by the way? Why did you let her win that argument today?" Dean remarked.

"What are you talking about? I didn't let her win anything. You told us to stop arguing, so we did," Sam replied.

"Yeah, but one of you usually throws in one last parting shot, and neither one of you even tried. So, I ask again, little brother, what's with you?" Dean asked. "Are you really that tired? Did you think she was right? Do you like her or something?" he persisted.

When Sam looked up in response to his last question, awareness suddenly dawned on Dean. "You do like her! I'll bet you wanted her to know what it feels like to win, so you caved! Oh, this is too sweet," Dean gloated.

"Shut up, Dean, you don't know what you're talking about," Sam growled. "Besides, even if I did have feelings for her, there's no way she'd return them. She's an amazing woman. Smart, beautiful, and she deserves someone who can give her the world. Besides, she's my best friend, for cryin' out loud. Probably all we'll ever be, though," he muttered.

Dean pursed his lips. Oh, Sammy, if only you knew what I know, he thought to himself. Dean found out about your feelings for Sam after a drunken night in the library. After one too many shots of whiskey, you'd let the confession slip out, and instantly panicked. You made Dean swear not to tell Sam, but he also made you promise to tell Sam before too much time passed.

Dean shrugged, grabbed his keys to the Impala and headed out the door. "All right, but don't wait up. You know, you don't have to stay in here all alone after I leave," he grinned mischievously.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Dean," he replied. Dean finally left the room, got into the Impala and headed for the bar. "Finally," Sam grumbled.

He thought about Dean's last comment, the one about not staying in their room all alone while he went out. Sam wondered if you were already asleep, or if you might be interested in watching a movie with him. He quickly changed into his pajamas, made sure he had the motel room key in his pocket and knocked on your door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As you towel-dried your hair, you heard the roar of the Impala's engine as she pulled away from the motel. Guess the two of them are headed out to blow off some steam, you said to yourself. As you were about to pull the blankets over your head, you heard a knock at the door. You glanced through the peephole and saw that it was Sam.

"Hi," you greeted him as you stepped aside to let him in.

"Hey," he replied. He looked at you then at the blankets turned down. "Oh, you were just going to bed, I'm sorry. I should go," he stammered.

You put your hands on his solid, muscular chest to stop him. "No, no, you don't have to go. As long as you're here, would you like to watch something on TV?" you asked hopefully.

"Sure, a-as long as I'm here," Sam smiled shyly. Your hands on his chest seemed to solidify his decision to stay.

You went over to your previous spot on the bed and got your legs under the blankets then maneuvered into a sitting position. You were having some difficulty in propping up some pillows between your back and the headboard. After he got underneath the blankets, Sam reached over and helped put the pillows in the right place for you. "Thank you, Sam," you remarked softly.

Sam looked around for the remote then found it on the nightstand by his side of the bed. He offered it to you, but you declined. He flicked the power button and started to run through the channels, finally settling on the first of four parts of The Stand by Stephen King. "Is this okay?" he asked.

You shuddered, remembering the parts that you had read from the novel that were a little disturbing this late at night. You had enough nightmares from what you saw with your own eyes on a daily basis, let alone what your imagination could conjure up. "Yeah, I'll be all right, I guess. It's just a TV show, after all," you replied nervously.

Sam chuckled softly and put his arm around you to bring you closer to his side. "Don't worry, I'm here, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. In response, you put your head on Sam's shoulder and your hand on his chest. You let out an audible sigh of contentment and tried to concentrate on the program. There were a couple of jump-scare moments in the show, but Sam was there to hold you and calm you back down.

Soon enough, your eyelids started to droop and you were having a hard time keeping awake to watch the program. Finally, you gave in to your exhaustion and your eyes slid closed for the night. Sam pulled you closer to his side and dipped his head towards you. He pressed his lips to your temple in a lingering kiss and whispered, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, you woke to a heavy weight across your midsection and a toasty, warm feeling throughout your body. When you looked down, you noticed that it was Sam's arm draped across you, keeping you held close to his body. You tried to carefully ease out of bed without waking him, but Sam was having none of that. "Mmm, g'morning, baby," he mumbled then kissed your bare shoulder where your T-shirt had slipped off.

The feel of his soft lips on your bare skin sent an electric shock wave racing straight to your core. "G-good morning, Sam," you stammered. You turned over to face him and saw that his eyes were still closed. You reached over and brushed a lock of his thick chestnut hair behind his ear, then traced his jawline with your index finger. Sam caught your hand in his and kissed each fingertip, one by one.

As much as you were enjoying this, you told yourself that it wasn't real. Sam was stuck in some dream-like state, one where he was kissing some other woman just like he was kissing you. That was the only explanation you would let yourself accept. Eventually, you were able to get out from under Sam's arm and make your way to the bathroom with your bag.

Today was the day for meeting with the local authorities and questioning the witnesses. That meant wearing your Fed suit with the black pencil skirt, white button-down blouse and black blazer. You ran a quick brush through your hair then focused on your make-up. You had left your shoes by the door, only wanting to put them on at the last minute.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Sam was sitting up in bed and Dean was already in his Fed suit. He had brought coffee and breakfast with him. You could feel an awkward silence in the room, as if you'd interrupted a discussion the boys were having. Sam rubbed his eyes then got out of bed. "I'm gonna go get dressed, then meet you both back here," he stated. He flashed you a quick smile then walked out of your door and over to his and Dean's room.

Dean looked at you with an all-knowing smirk on his face. "So, how was it last night?" he asked.

"What exactly do you think happened, Dean? Sam came over after you left, and we watched TV," you mentioned.

"All I know is that Sam didn't sleep in his bed last night, so he had to have slept here," Dean pointed out.

"Dean, what more do you want me to say? I fell asleep watching TV, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up with Sam still here in my room," you explained. Which was a pleasant surprise, you thought.

"Oh-ho, a little 'Netflix and Chill', hmm?" he grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes in disgust. "Oh, will you grow up, Winchester? Not everything is about sex," you retorted.

"Fine," he huffed. "One question though," he mentioned.

"What?" you replied wearily.

"Who was the big spoon?" Dean asked with a know-it-all smirk still on his face.

You answered him by slapping his face with a pillow from the bed. Sam walked back into the room just in time to witness the pillow being slammed into his brother's face, causing him to laugh. You gave each other a high-five.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast, the three of you climbed into the Impala and went over to the local sheriff's department. You wanted to see what they had turned up and also to get a look at the victims. Sam and Dean introduced themselves to the sheriff and began chatting with them about the crime scene and the victims. At the same time, you were trying to see what additional information the deputy may have.

Deputy Walters was kind of young, a little shy and soft-spoken, not exactly the tough-as-nails lawman you might expect. So, during your questions, you turned on your feminine charms, hoping that it might elicit more information. You hated to be reduced to using such tactics, but you reminded yourself that lives were at stake.

As you spoke to Deputy Walters, you noticed that Sam kept glancing over. His frown seemed to deepen the longer you and the deputy were talking. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"Well, I think that about does it, Deputy Walters. You've given me a lot of good information for me to review with my fellow agents. Thank you," you remarked, putting a hand on his arm.

"Please, call me Frank. And, you're welcome. Anything to help out an agent from the bureau. 'Specially one as pretty as yourself," Frank gushed. "How much longer are you in town?" he asked.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at his compliment. "Not sure, I still have to compare notes with those two, then go from there. Why?" you inquired.

"I was kind of hoping that maybe you might want to go out for dinner with me tonight? It's kind of a small town, and most of the ladies my age are already married. Besides, it's not every day that I get to meet a gorgeous woman who's also an FBI agent," Deputy Walters remarked shyly.

"How nice of you to say, Deputy Walt--Frank," you replied softly. You looked over at Sam and Dean, who were both still discussing the case with the sheriff. "I think dinner tonight could be arranged," you agreed.

"Really? I-I mean, that's great! How about we meet back at the station at 7, and we can go to dinner from here?" he suggested.

"Sounds great, I'll have one of my partners drop me back here at 7," you said.

"Until then, sweet lady," Deputy Walters took your hand and brushed his lips across the back.

Sam's eyes grew wide as he witnessed this exchange from across the room. He abruptly excused himself from Dean's side and made his way to yours. Sam placed a hand on your back and quickly ushered you out to stand next to the Impala to wait for Dean.

Once you were outside, you whirled around and turned to face Sam. "What the hell was that, Winchester?" you demanded.

"Me? What the hell were you doing, flirting with the deputy?" he retorted.

You pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. "It's the same as we've always done. We've got a small-town deputy who seems to be a little lonely and we need info. So, like always, you and Dean leave me to turn on the flirt. Don't worry, I have every intention of sharing with you all the information that Frank gave me. Before I head out for my date with him tonight, that is," you finished.

Sam's eyes grew wide at your revelation of going out on a date with someone. "Frank? Who's Frank? And a date?!? You're not going out on any date tonight, not with him!" he exclaimed.

You took a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself before answering. "Deputy Frank Walters and I will be going out to dinner tonight in town. He will be waiting for me at the station at 7, and I have every intention of keeping that promise!" you shot back.

"This is not one of our 'friendly debates', this is about you and your safety. We still don't know who's behind all this demon activity. For all we know, it could be Barney Fife over there," Sam huffed.

A thought struck you about Sam's true reason for not wanting you to go out on a date with someone. "Are you jealous?" you inquired.

"What?" he asked.

"That's why you don't want me to go out with Barn--Frank tonight. You're jealous!" you smirked.

"Don't be ridiculous. He knows we're only in town for a short period of time. And it's you who can't see that he's only seizing this opportunity to use you. Just to 'scratch an itch', without any long-term commitment," Sam muttered.

The look of horror on your face instantly told Sam he had taken his debate one step too far. He reached out to you to apologize, but you backed away from him. "I can't believe you said that to me," you whispered.

"Wait, I'm--" Sam pleaded, his hands outstretched towards you.

"DON'T," you shouted. "Don't touch me, don't talk to me, just stay away from me right now," you growled.

Neither of you noticed that Dean had finished talking to the sheriff. As he walked over, he had been watching the entire heated exchange between the two of you. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Nothing," you both answered in unison, your response a bit louder then Sam's was. You yanked open the rear passenger door and settled into your seat, arms folded across your chest.

Sam did the same, taking a bit more time to settle in as he reflected on the last bit of your conversation. Am I jealous, like she said? he thought to himself. Why should I care who she goes out with? It's not like we're a couple or anything, he silently reasoned. But I wish we were, Sam shook his head at that last thought.

Dean looked at the two of you before he left the station to head back to the motel. "Oh. Yeah. Obviously it's 'nothing'," he observed dryly.

The Impala was barely put in park at the motel before you were the first one out the door. Your keys at the ready, you were in your room with the door closed before Sam and Dean had even taken off their seat belts.

"Dude, I don't think I've ever seen her so pissed. At anybody, let alone you. What did you say to her?" Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath before explaining the previous conversation to his brother. "Whoa," Dean said when Sam finished. "You know she's not like that, Sam. She's not into one-night stands and she's not completely naïve about guys," Dean replied.

"Yeah, I know, and I didn't even mean it, either. But she's right, I am jealous of her going out with that deputy. I still may be right, too, though. We don't know who's behind all the demon activity around here. Deputy Dumbass being the cause of it isn't the most far-fetched idea, you know," Sam grumbled.

"Maybe. It could be the deputy. But all that aside, Sammy, you're gonna have to man up and tell her how you feel at some point," Dean replied as his phone buzzed in his pocket. When he unlocked his phone, he saw it was a text message from you.

You: Dean, will you please take me back to the station for my date? Need to be there by 7

DW: Yeah, I can do that. You ready yet?

You: Almost. Will text you when I am.

DW: Don't worry. Gonna be just you and me in the car, kid. Sending Sam to his room without supper lol.

You: Thanks, Dean.

"Is that her?" Sam asked. "Ready for her date?"

"She said she was 'almost ready'. I told her I was sending you to your room, so you gotta clear out, man. Don't worry, Sam. She's tough, she'll be all right," Dean tried to reassure his brother.

About ten minutes later, a buzz in Dean's pocket showed a text message that said you were ready to go. Dean relayed the message to Sam, who then got out of the car. He unlocked the motel room door and went inside, but stood waiting with it cracked open just a little. He wanted to see how you looked, all dressed up for your date. Also, to torture himself a bit more that it wasn't him you'd be out with tonight.

For your outfit, you were wearing your newest pair of faded blue jeans with a sparkly, navy blue top that had a boat-neck opening. You had on your black ankle boots with the wedge heel, and you had kept your jewelry and make-up simple. Sam drew in a deep breath at how beautiful you looked tonight and sent a silent prayer to anyone listening that you be kept safe.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dinner with Frank passed pleasantly enough, each of you asking questions to get to know each other better. You tried to keep your answers as vague as possible regarding your background and current occupation. You told him about your family and about losing Andrew in a car accident, instead of on a shifter hunt.

As you walked out to his car after dinner, Frank suggested that you go out for a couple of drinks and maybe some dancing. "I'm having a great time, and I don't exactly want it to end," he murmured as the two of you stood by his car.

He had his arms around you, and he was looking directly into your eyes as his hand caressed your cheek. It had been awhile since you'd had that kind of attention from any man. But with as shyly as he was acting earlier compared to now, alarm bells started going off in your head.

"Frank, it's getting late, I really should get going. Here, let me text my co-worker so that he can meet us back at the station," you said as you reached for your pocket.

"That sounds perfect, since we know those Winchesters will drop everything to come rescue you," Frank sneered.

"What are you talking about? My partners' names are--" you were cut off by his hand at your throat, lightly squeezing it.

"Save it!" he hissed. "Everyone knows you're working with those two flannel-jockeys," he retorted as his eyes flashed to all black.

"It's you," you whispered. "You're the one behind the demon attacks around here," you growled.

"That's right. Now call them and tell them to meet us here. If you don't, it's going to be a very unpleasant ending to our 'date'," he sneered.

You pulled out your phone to dial Dean's number. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey, sweetheart, is your date over with already?" he asked.

"H-hey, Dean. Yeah, I'm ready to come back. Dinner was nice, but it's getting late so we decided to call it a night," you replied shakily.

"Everything okay, honey?" Dean asked, his tone shifting to one of concern.

"Frank" gave your neck a little squeeze and a warning glare to remind you of the consequences should Dean not take the bait. "Y-yeah, I'm okay, just tired. Deputy kinda reminds me of that guy I went out with from Poughkeepsie," you chuckled nervously.

"Okay, we're on the way. Pick you back up at the station, right?" he asked.

"That's right," you choked out. "See you soon, Dean," you whispered. Hope so, you silently added as you disconnected the call.

"Now, we wait," the demon said smugly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean grimly looked at his phone after the call was disconnected. Sam could tell something had gone wrong, and he knew you were in trouble. "The demon--" Sam started.

"Yeah. Just like you said, Sam," Dean confirmed.

Sam closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Now was not the time for the I-told-you-so's. The main focus at hand was that they had to get you back safely. Dean grabbed his car keys and ran out the door, with Sam close behind.

Before getting behind the wheel, the boys checked the trunk to make sure they had a good supply of holy water and their angel or demon blades. When they were satisfied in their preparations, they got back in the car and headed over to the sheriff's station. On the way, Dean sent up a prayer to Castiel, just in case.

When they got near the station, they noted that there were five demon sentries keeping watch. Inside, the demon wearing Deputy Walters as a meatsuit had tied you to an office chair. He kept looking out the window for any signs of the Winchesters.

"You don't really think they're going to waltz in the front door, do you?" you scoffed.

The demon backhanded you across the face in response. "Keep quiet. They'll be here, it's just a matter of time. I hope they get here quick, because this meatsuit isn't cooperating too well. Keeps squirming, telling me not to hurt you," he mocked.

"Leave him alone!" you growled.

"You're not really in any kind of position to make demands, now are you?" he sneered.

"Listen to me Frank, I know you're in there, and you've got to fight! You can do this, just kick him out!" you pleaded. Another slap to the face, this one hard enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"Shut up! Or I will hurt him from the inside and it will be all your fault if he dies," the demon snapped. A noise outside caught his attention, and you prayed that it was your rescue party. You also hoped they would be able to make it into the building undetected.

"Looks like the party's about to get started," the demon cackled with glee. His grin faltered when he began to hear demon screams and see several orange flashes. You both knew that meant his demon army was being taken out, one by one.

"Noooooo!" he cried. With his master plan unraveled, the demon chose to smoke out rather than be sent back to Hell by Sam or Dean. Deputy Walters' body slumped to the floor, unconscious.

From your chair, you visibly relaxed when you saw that the demon was gone. Your head was down, and silent tears began streaming down your face. Sam and Dean walked in, guns drawn, but quickly put them away when they saw there was no longer a threat.

Dean tended to Deputy Walters, and for the most part, the deputy was okay. At some point, he was probably going to have to get 'the talk'. You knew he would need it to help him make sense about what happened.

Sam rushed over to your side and began to untie the ropes holding you to the chair. He helped you stand up once you were all untied. He gingerly massaged your wrists where the ropes had started to bite into them.

As you stood before him, you continued to cast your eyes downward, unable to look Sam in the eye. You felt a bit ashamed of how the two of you had fought before your date with the deputy. What you considered to be jealousy, was really only Sam's concern for your safety. Turns out he was correct in that the demon possessing Deputy Walters was the one you were supposed to be hunting.

"Hey," Sam said softly. "Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Please," he pleaded. You shook your head, but Sam hooked his finger under your chin and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. His face fell at seeing the marks on your face from being slapped around by the demon. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry this happened," he whispered.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam, I do. I apologize for not listening to you that the deputy may be possessed and the cause of all of this. If I had, none of this would've happened. I'm so sorry for how I acted earlier," you remarked softly.

"What matters is that you and the deputy are safe, and the demon left the meatsuit behind," he reminded you. His fingertips gently brushed your cheek, then he slid his hand to cup the back of your head. Ever so slowly, Sam inched forward to close the gap between you until you felt his soft lips meshing with yours in a slow, tender kiss.

"Whoa," you whispered after you and Sam broke apart from the kiss. "So that's how best friends kiss after a near-death experience with a demon?" you asked.

Sam chuckled lightly. "I don't know about that, but it's my way of showing you that I consider you as more than my best friend. I-I'm in love with you. Your smile, your laugh, everything. I could lose myself for hours in your expressive eyes. I want to run my fingers through your soft, silky hair. And my lips are itching to not only kiss your lips, but any other part of your bare skin that presents itself," he finished softly.

"Oh. Well, you certainly have made a compelling case. Only this time, I'm in complete agreement with you. I'm in love with you, too, Sam. Your intelligence, your compassion, how I know I can tell you anything and you won't judge me. Your strong arms that I know will keep me safe and comfort me when I need it. And those lips of yours sure do talk a good game. I, for one, cannot wait to feel their magic wherever they may travel over me," you responded.

It took all of about three seconds before you dove towards each other and your lips crashed together in passion-filled kiss. Sam's tongue darted out, intending to break the seal on your mouth, and you gladly granted him access with a smile. As quickly as the kiss started, you slowed down and took your time to taste and explore each other's mouth. A tiny moan escaped your lips, which seemed to re-ignite the fire within Sam, causing him to pick up the pace again.

When the need to breathe became too great, you broke apart, both of you panting heavily. "Wow, Sam, you're amazing," you remarked.

"Baby, you're the amazing one. I wasn't sure how much longer I would've been able to keep my feelings for you hidden away," Sam replied. "I love you so much," he declared.

"You know, I think I fell in love with you right after we met, after that shifter case?" you asked, to which he nodded. "At first I thought it was some sort of 'hero worship', because you rescued me and took such good care of me afterwards. But I can't deny it anymore. I love you too, Sam," you replied.

From the doorway, you heard the sound of someone clearing his throat. You both looked over to see Dean standing there, that know-it-all smirk back on his face. "It's about time you two confessed your feelings. I didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to stand watching you dance around each other," he grinned.

On the way home, Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala with you. His body was wedged into a corner, his back to the passenger-side door. Then his left leg was stretched out across the length of the bench seat. You sat in front of Sam, your back against his chest and his arms around you.

With the purr of the engine rumbling down the highway, you relaxed against each other. Dean turned around at one point to see that you had fallen asleep in each others' arms. He was happy for you and his brother. "Nerd love," he remarked affectionately, shaking his head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @gabrielslittleangel @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @deangirl93 @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride

#sam winchester #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #spn #spn imagine

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 5 years ago

Text

The Dragonborn | M!Reader x Geralt of Rivia | Part II

Note: I split the oneshot because damn 12k does nobody want to read in one go xD

Fandoms: The Witcher (TV Series), The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Swearing, Gore, Slight OOC

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier meet a stranger in the woods while on the hunt for a special monster. They decide to team up but neither does Geralt realize that his prey is close to him nor does the stranger notice he's the one being hunted...

Word Count: 6938

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name!

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed.

Part I

_______

A few hours later, after they had eaten the rabbit, they began to look for tracks of the monster. There were a lot of them. For example, the scorched moss where Geralt almost turned into roasted meat, the dark footprints in the dirt, and the fallen trees.

The witcher was impressed by how good the warrior from Keizaal could search for tracks.

“You see that, Jaskier? The way the claws dig in the ground? It means the claws of the dovah are really big. That’s pretty unusual for female dragons, so it’s obvious we’re dealing with a male. But we uh... know that because Odahviing is male.”

While Jaskier and Y/N genuinely searched for any signs he just stared at the foreigner. He somehow felt like he had found a kindred spirit in the man standing in front with his back facing him.

A weird association, but there were only a few things that could really impress Geralt.

Magic, Fighting Skills, and usually breasts.

Which made him sound like a skirt chaser, but that wasn't it. It just meant what it meant. Dicks definitely didn't attract hi-

"What the hell?"

He lifted his eyes from the lower body of Y/N, and his breath hitched when those e/c eyes pierced his. Did he see...?

"The footprints are gone!"

Oh. That.

"That does make sense... Or not? It's a dragon, after all? They can fly. Or not? Can they?"

Jaskier stepped in front of him and obstructed his view on the other. Geralt turned and touched his face. His cheeks were burning. What's gotten into him? He remembered something Yennefer had told him once as a half-joke.

I sometimes think that if I haven't met you, you would have chosen someone who fights like you, thinks like you, who lives like you. And from what I believe that someone would have been a man. Because it needs a brute to move a brute's heart.

While his head was filled with thousand thoughts, Y/N and the bard inspected the tracks closer.

"It can't be that he took off. Do you see how the footprints are as deep as the others? If he wanted to fly away, they would be deeper because he had needed to shift his weight."

"Is that something you learned while hunting for the other dragons with the Dragonborn?"

The man from Keizaal nodded. Some locks fell into his face, and his expression was thoughtful while he searched for a plausible explanation. Geralt could see every feature of his sharp e/c eyes.

They were different from Yennefer's violet ones, their spark was different, but for other people, they must be as enthralling as the eyes of the sorceress to him. That's at least what he believed. They had a particular pull. He didn't feel it, but it was there. Puzzling, but powerful.

A cough pulled him away from Y/N's eyes, and Jaskier stared at him with a grin.

"What?" he asked, his voice almost defensive.

"Nothing," responded his friend with a knowing undertone. What the hell was going on?

"Well, I can't think of anything that happened. Witcher, what about you?"

The mesmerizing eyes turned to him, and he blinked. What was the question?

Thankfully, I always have a good answer ready.

"Hmm."

He shifted and knelt to see the footprints up close. They had a certain distance to each other as if the dragon was walking slowly. Y/N was right; he couldn't have flown away, the marks were too shallow. Either he disappeared into thin air, or the monster had an amazing control when it came to his weight.

"Strange..." was all he said.

He focused on the sounds around them, but there was nothing extraordinary. Just the whistle of the wind, a few birds singing, and the steady heartbeats of the other two men. It was a dead end.

"Fuck."

He looked up, surprised that he and the warrior of Keizaal said the same thing at the same time. Y/N shot him a grin, and Geralt snorted.

"Maybe we should try to set up a trap"

He turned and watched Jaskier's expression. It was a good idea, and they didn't have any other options, besides he wasn't really in the mood to search the whole forest for the dragon. The h/c haired man agreed and pulled a bow out of his satchel. The bard's eyes once again widened.

"I want a bag like this too."

"If you don't want to carry your things anymore, you can give them to me. I'll store them."

Jaskier smiled brightly, and Y/N returned it. Something flared up in Geralt's chest, but he ignored it. Damn bruises make my chest hurt.

The bard gave the foreigner their things, and he put them in his satchel.

"Let's think about the trap," the warrior tested the string of his bow and then focused his eyes on Geralt and Jaskier.

"Dragons are usually very picky about their food, but I belie- know that Odahviing is fine with deer meat. We should hunt some."

And they did. With the help of Geralt's tracking skills and crossbow and the Y/N's bow, they easily got two does. Although it took a while to find them since most animals steered free of the area where the dragon rampaged.

Geralt and Jaskier only watched, while Y/N slashed the throats of the already dead animals.

"Dovahs have a keen sense of smell; we have to cover our own scent."

He continued to drench his hands with the blood and even smeared some on his neck and armor. When he couldn't hear the other two approaching, Y/N turned around and tilted his head questioningly.

"U-Uh, what did you say?" asked the bard and avoided his gaze.

“What? Did I say something wrong? Can you... Is it a sacrilege to use doe bloo-"

Geralt interrupted him.

"We couldn't understand what you said because you spoke in a different language."

Y/N widened his eyes, and an apologetic look crossed his face.

"I'm sorry...”

Jaskier’s slightly odd expression concerned him and he examined the witcher. Geralt was more intrigued than scared by the fact the atmosphere in the woods seemed to have changed as soon as the other spoke in his probably native language.

The fact that Y/N’s voice got a lot deeper while he spoke, caused a shiver to run down his spine. The foreigner apologized again and then added:

“I said the dragon could smell us. We should cover our scent with the blood."

Jaskier didn't seem to like the idea, but the witcher nodded and followed his advice.

Soon the bard's and his hands were stained with doe blood. Geralt was unaffected by it since he already got used to it by hunting monsters for years, but the other man looked a little pale.

The warrior watched their actions and then approached the white-haired man. His yellow eyes followed all of his movements.

"You should also put some on your throat... It’s a place where a lot of sweat gathers."

As soon as Y/N touched his collarbone and neck, Geralt stiffened. Actually, he froze. Something about another man touching his carotid artery was really intimate. His nose caught the smell of iron, moss, and smoke.

Someone who lives like you.

Yennefer's words replayed in his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from unconsciously moving his head closer to the other man.

The warrior was only a few centimeters smaller than him, his head reached up to his eyebrows. The hands on his throat were rough and slippery, but they touched him with such gentleness, Geralt had to shiver.

He gulped, and his adam's apple pressed against Y/N's palm. The afternoon sun danced on the other man’s scars, and eyelashes and Geralt wondered if every man had such long ones. He breathed in and closed his eyes.

Is this the essence of a kindred spirit?

Suddenly Y/N's hands disappeared from his throat, and he could no longer feel the warrior's presence so close to him.

“Put some on your cheeks too.”

A little disappointed, he opened his eyes and noticed that the other man had already turned and now approached Jaskier just to do the same thing to the bard that he did to him.

Y/N's bare hands touched his friend's throat, and neck and Geralt suddenly had a very, very dark thought.

Abruptly he turned around and covered his lower face with his hand.

Did I... About this man...?

He could feel how heat crept up his neck, and he questioned the emotionlessness that every witcher was supposed to have.

What the fuck was he thinking? He has Yennefer!

Or at least had. Their relationship was somewhat in the stars at the moment. After their rather big fight last time...

Geralt didn't know why that mattered though.

He buried the fluttery feeling that had sprouted in his chest when the other man had touched him.

What he didn't realize, Y/N's heartbeat was pounding faster after the physical contact they had just shared.

After they had covered their scent with deer blood, they also smeared some dirt on their armor and clothes, much to the dismay of Jaskier. Then they decided to set up their stakeout one hundred meters away from the carcasses.

It was close enough to quickly attack, but also far away enough for them to be safe in case the dragon wanted to grill them. They sat on the mossy ground and leaned on the trees surrounding them.

"Now, all we have to do is wait."

Patience was something every hunter was supposed to have, and both Geralt and Y/N obviously had it. The bard, on the other hand...

The witcher's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance. After his friend had whistled, he began to eye the two men. Jaskier's stare felt like a cockroach was crawling over his body. He had a bad premonition about the weird behavior of the brown-haired man. He glared at him, but he just grinned.

Stop staring!

Geralt turned his head away and noticed how the warrior from Keizaal seemed to concentrate on something around his neck. He clenched and unclenched his fist with an absent expression.

He watched for a while and then realized that Y/N was holding a ring that he wore on a necklace.

A sinking feeling appeared in his gut, and he suddenly felt like a mountain weighed his shoulders down.

"You have a wife?"

His mouth was faster than his thoughts.

The man startled and then shared eye contact with him.

"Something like that..."

Geralt frowned a little. What kind of answer was that? He stared at Y/N with a hard look, but the other added nothing else, just sighed and hid the ring under his heavy armor.

The witcher only grunted and turned to face the direction of their trap.

Shit, why was he so annoyed?

The idea of the warrior having a doting wife waiting for him in Keizaal made his heart clench, and his chest felt tight.

This time he couldn't blame the bruises on his rips.

He finally acknowledged that the h/c haired man intrigued him and caused some rather odd feelings to rise.

But this... Why... Why the fuck was he feeling jealous?

And it wasn't even that the man had a wife, no; he was jealous because some woman had Y/N.

That dragon must have indeed killed some of his brain cells.

His yellow eyes traveled back to the other man's figure. His broad shoulders were hidden under his armor, but Geralt had seen them.

Just after he had woken up, he had seen the man in regular clothes. Although he had worn a shirt, the witcher had been able to see how muscular Y/N was.

His body seemed to be covered with scars. Tiny cuts on his hands, big slashes on his collarbone, and even some nasty ones close to his throat. Geralt was sure there were many more, but he wasn't able to see them. They were proof of fierce fights and the experiences the man had had to go through.

Was it weird that they attracted him?

Like the hands in his dreams that had traveled over his, the Butcher of Blaviken wanted to trace Y/N's scars with his fingers. He wanted to feel how his body had healed him, wanted to know the story of every scratch and bruise, wanted to touch the energetic muscles bursting with strength.

A flame of desire began to burn in his body, and he lowered his head to hide the dark expression he wore on his face.

These thoughts needed to stop; they would only become problematic in the future.

Geralt scratched his neck and then examined the brown-red flakes under his fingernails.

He felt a stare on his body again, and he sighed.

God damn Jaskier...

When he lifted his head, he was surprised to see that it wasn't the bard who looked at him but the warrior from Keizaal. Y/N's e/c eyes were unfathomable, but he showed a somber expression. He paused for a second, and the world seemed to turn slower.

The witcher could see every blemish on the other man's skin, every mole, every freckle. Geralt breathed in slowly, and the warrior's hair swayed in the wind.

He's so handso... The wind?

Geralt abruptly stood up.

"The-the wind turned!" he muttered and gulped. His cheeks felt hot, and he bit his lip. Jaskier frowned.

"Doesn't this mean that our smell would be...?"

Y/N sighed and nodded.

"Is a lake close by?"

The bard shook his head.

"But, we're only a few miles away from the sea."

The witcher watched the other man closely while he questioned the other's exhausted expression.

"The wind has turned due to the late afternoon. We should move."

Geralt and Jaskier only watched when the other stood up and grabbed his bow.

"Why not wait until the wind turns again?" asked the bard, and he followed after the h/c haired man.

"That won't be the case until tomorrow. The sea has saved the warmth from the sun while the land cooled down. We have to wait until the land is warmer again."

Jaskier eyed Y/N carefully. Geralt could already guess what he was thinking. He understood what the warrior from Keizaal meant. He learned about it when he was training to become a witcher.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

They both contemplated for a while and then Geralt spoke:

"Maybe we should indeed wait for tomorrow. I think it would be best if you tell us some more things about your dragon before we storm into this unprepared."

He tried to suppress a triumphant smile when the other two agreed. Of course, he wouldn't admit that he actually just wanted to spend some more time with Y/N.

He had a thought that they wouldn't meet again after this whole thing was over.

"Then what do we do about the deer corpses?" asked Jaskier, and it was a reasonable question. If they left them, they could attract other animals...

Both the witcher and the warrior looked at each other and then huffed. The bard just stared between them, and his face gradually darkened.

"You're not... thinking about eating them are-are you?"

Two hours later, they had put up a camp close to a clear pond and already roasted some rabbit meat.

They had buried the does, and although the physical labor was annoying, Jaskier was relieved that the two brutes didn't decide to eat them. The dead animals had been lying in the sun for a long time after all.

Y/N was peeling his armor off and thinking about the situation he was in right now.

The fact that they were on the hunt for a dragon excited him. Not the actual part of the chase but the fact that he would meet another specimen of his current best friends.

After he had killed Alduin, he had lost himself in a killing spree. Paarthurnax had warned him to get a hold of himself, but he wasn’t able to. His dragon soul caused him to lose all rational thoughts.

When he finally realized that he could learn so much more about Akatosh and the dovahs, he had already committed mass slaughter, and Odahviing and the wise dragon from The Throat of the World were the last ones of their species.

Or that's at least what the three of them had thought. But they were wrong, and now he had the chance to meet another dragon! And probably also the chance to go home. If he wanted to.

But first, they had to get a hold of him.

"Jaskier?"

He faced the bard who currently played on his lute while also watching the fire. He hummed in response and looked up.

"We should wash off the blood in the pond. Do you want to go first?"

The man seemingly wanted to say yes but then shook his head and responded with a slight grin:

"No, you can go first. I'll watch the rabbit."

Y/N furrowed his brows but then smiled and thanked him. He left the pile of his armor and Jaskier behind and wandered to the pond, which was located behind some trees and big boulders.

The view from the camp was obscured, which meant he had some privacy. Not that he cared much, but he would rather not show his back to the two other men. Since it showed one more change he had gone through in the last year.

Although Geralt wasn't currently in the camp anyway, he left to get some more branches for the fire.

The man carefully opened his shirt and took it off. His boots, pants, and underwear soon followed suit, and he stepped to the shore where some reed grew.

The water was cold when he stepped in, but he endured it. His muscles just tensed a little.

Y/N walked in further until the water reached his abdomen. He wasn’t even halfway in the pond, it was fairly big.

He sucked in some air when he lowered himself into the water until it reached his chin. He had to rub his skin a little, but then the water around him turned slightly red.

The man watched how the deer blood twirled, and he stared at his reflection. The red blood on his cheeks conjured a cursed memory in his head, and he heaved.

Hii los dur, Dovahkiin. Hi aal krii zu'u nu nuz zu'u ahrk pah dii Zeymah fen koraav hi mah wah hin daan. You are cursed, Dragonborn. You may kill me now, but all my brethren and I will see how you fall to your doom.

The ominous words of the last dovah he had killed echoed in his mind. He hugged himself, and his fingers touched his shoulder blades.

The skin was still shedding. Y/N sighed. What was going on with his body? The shedding had started a few months ago but he had no idea why.

And since it only started after he had arrived here he couldn’t ask Odahviing or Paarthurnax.

He breathed out slowly and then dived underwater.

The coldness cleared his head a little, and he relaxed slightly. His feet left the muddy ground, and for a moment, he floated.

If I could just stay like this...

His hand clenched to a fist, and he released some Magicka. The small pressure on his nose disappeared, and he automatically breathed in.

Air filled his lungs, and the Dragonborn smiled. Peace washed over him, and he spread his arms.

He slowly floated to the surface, and his face broke through it. Water droplets pearled from his cheeks and eyelashes, and he stared into the sky. The tree crowns whistled, and he watched how some clouds traveled across the darkening sky. The sun was already setting.

This was the ending of the first day together with the bard and the witcher. Geralt's face came to his mind, and he bit his lip.

The white-haired man reminded him of Farkas, but he was also completely different. His attitude for example. Farkas was openly benevolent and also voiced his concerns. The witcher seemed to be reluctant. Although Y/N was able to feel that he cared deeply for his friend.

They shared the same keen instincts, but Geralt's came from the harsh trials witchers had to go through while his love had them because he had been a werewolf.

I can't believe that you chose Farkas over Vilkas. Do you like strength more than brains?

Aela's voice sounded in his head, and Y/N huffed.

The huntress had probably been right. He was attracted to the Butcher of Blaviken. These yellow eyes... They had something animalistic and penetrating that stirred an urge deep inside of him.

He sighed and put his hands on his face. Then he scrubbed and splashed his face with water.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a person standing behind a tree at the other side of the pond after he had wiped droplets from his eyes and opened them again.

Y/N breath stopped, and a wail got caught in his throat. He abruptly stood up again, although it felt like he had still no ground under his feet. What...?

Light blue eyes framed by black war paint stared at him with a resentful look.

"Fa-Far..."

His voice failed, but he agitatedly began to move across the pond, trying to reach his lost lover and husband.

Breath erratic and tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes, but at that moment, he only felt happiness and relief. Farkas was alive!

"D-Dii Shul!" My Sunshine!

The ground suddenly declined, he lost his footing and dived involuntarily underwater.

Nevertheless, he was still able to hear the words that had left the lips he had kissed so often.

"So, you've abandoned me."

An ice-cold feeling washed over him, and his heart broke.

No, that's not true! I would never! You were gone! You left me! You died!

A disturbing scream erupted from his throat, and the skin around his mouth tore. The scream turned into a roar, and he clawed at his face. The e/c eyes shook, and the black pupils turned to slits.

Shreds of flesh got caught by growing claws, and gigantic fangs emerged from the man's jaws.

H/C hair parted, shrunk, and gave way for two enormous horns. His whole body shook, and his limbs twisted and cracked. His spine grew longer, broke through his lower back, and two bony wings arose from his back.

The murky water of the pond turned red and swirled around the tremoring creature who rapidly grew until it was able to stand on the pond bed. Flesh turned hard and into black scales. New tissue engulfed its wings and tail and also got covered by rockhard scales.

Burning heat crawled up its throat, and furious flames burst from its maw. It broke through the pond's surface, and the splashed water evaporated immediately.

The dragon spread its wings, and they created waterfalls when they left the water. The wingspan was as big as half of the pond, and when it pulled them closer to its body ready for takeoff, the leaves and needles of the surrounding trees shook.

A thunderous boom announced the beast's presence, and it tensed its huge muscles.

When it thrust off the pond bed, the water turned into waves and flooded over the shore and soaked shoes and clothes. Branches broke like grass when the dragon's wings grazed them, and trees lost all their leaves from the harsh wind which got created.

A scent caught the dragon’s attention and it whipped its head around. A triumphant roar shook the earth when it dashed towards the direction the smell came from.

The beast ignored the scared brown-haired human that stared at it from a small campsite.

Geralt was grabbing some more branches when he saw some Celandine, and he swiftly decided to take them with him. They were always helpful, after all.

Putting the branches on the ground, he knelt and carefully tore the flowers and the not yet bloomed buds from their stems.

While he stored them, his thoughts trailed off to the mysterious man who accompanied him and Jaskier.

Y/N had sparked something inside of him, and now he was questioning his heart, which confused him even more since the person he found interesting was a man.

On the other hand, he couldn't quite tell if the feeling in his chest was something along the lines of romantic attraction or just common interest.

Deep down in Geralt's heart, he knew that him eyeing the other man's ass was definitely not something one would call a platonic interest, but he just couldn't admit that he, who never thought about other men like that, suddenly liked one.

He didn't feel disgusted, but the thought alarmed him.

He had seen a lot of things during his time as a witcher, and relationships between two men were never something that ended well. Various churches took care of that.

An image in his head made his fists clench unconsciously.

And there was still Yennefer. They never openly ended their relationship so... Was he still involved with her? He couldn't tell.

The Butcher of Blaviken sighed and then noticed a pebble in the moss. It had white streaks over its grey shape, and they reminded him of the scars in the foreigner's face.

Was he seriously associating weird things to Y/N now?

Maybe the other cursed him.

While he pondered some more about the other man, it took a while for him to notice that the forest had turned unnaturally silent.

Birds stopped singing as if they held their breaths in fear, and suddenly a roar disrupted the silence. It came from far away, but Geralt was able to hear it loud and clear because of his mutated hearing.

He abruptly stood up and turned towards the direction. It came from the camp, and Geralt's heart sank.

Please no.

He disregarded the branches he had meticulously collected and started to rush back the way he came from. Thankfully he had taken his swords with him, and he unsheathed the silver one.

The image of the bard and the foreigner being killed carried his feet forward and pushed him to almost inhumane speed.

He wasn't even halfway back when a shadow cast on the moss stopped him in his tracks. A gigantic black dragon soared through the sky, and his wings caused the surrounding trees to shake. Geralt could feel the wind pressure, and the aura that the beast released caused a shiver to run down his spine.

The witcher grinned darkly. That bastard had an impressive bloodthirst. Geralt's hunter instincts wanted to fight that monster, but his heart worried for his best friend and his potential love interest.

He cursed himself for not taking his small bag with the various vials with potions and bombs, but he had no time to get annoyed because the dragon suddenly dived down, and he had to roll out of the way or else he would have been crushed.

When he stood up again and turned, he came face to face with the beast's massive head, and his heart skipped a beat.

Y/N fought against such big monsters? Repeatedly?

His respect for the other man increased significantly.

Geralt couldn't avoid his legs to tense, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, its e/c eyes examined him, and the witcher wondered if the monster's pupils acted like a human's because they widened considerably.

This is a dovah...

The beast was at least as big as a typical villager house, and Geralt was sure that the spikes on its body would cause massive damage to any attacker. The black scales seemed impenetrable, and the monster slayer seriously questioned his chances of survival.

He had already felt it before when he had run from the dragon. It wasn't an enemy who he could overpower. If he had to fight, it would be either an overpriced victory or death. But escaping wasn't an option anymore, the dragon's tail had trapped him before the beast.

His grip around his sword tightened, and he was ready to use Quen on himself when the beast shifted and held its head up high. A growl escaped from its throat, and Geralt tensed even more. Unexpectedly, the dragon spoke:

"Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok."

The witcher obviously didn't understand, but the voice of the dragon shook him to the core. It was as if someone was screaming in his ear, and he had to press his hands on them. For that, he carelessly let go of his sword, but he felt like his eardrums would explode at any time.

His chest tingled, and the echo of the dragon's word resounded through his whole body. Geralt's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

The beast lowered its head until its throat almost touched the ground, and then it snorted.

Hot air blew his hair back, and the Butcher of Blaviken came to his senses again. He needed to get his sword back! Right when he stretched out his hand to take his silver sword, the dragon crept forward until its snout was dangerously close.

Geralt froze. If the monster decided to eat him now, he would have no time to react. This was the end.

The realization hit him, and regret washed over him like a seastorm. There were many things in his life that he hadn't resolved yet—many things he wanted to achieve and also many things he wanted to try.

E/c eyes showed up in his mind, and his heart burned. If the dragon ate him now, would they meet in death?

His eyes flickered to the dragon, and that's when he realized something.

Although he had no time to elaborate the thought because the dragon moved its head forward until there was merely the distance of a hand between him and the beast.

He breathed out slowly, and his witcher heart beat faster. He wanted to face his enemy to the last second, but after so many fights, he thought that closing his eyes and embracing death that way seemed more peaceful and freeing. So he closed them and took one last breath.

I'm sorry, Ciri.

Seconds passed, where he only heard his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Until wind brushed his hair in his face, and he heard a sniff. A rumble shook the earth, and he slowly opened his eyes again.

The dragon breathed in and sniffed, its eyes closed, and Geralt couldn't believe it when the beast closed the distance, and the scaly snout touched his chest. Black shiny scales only a few centimeters from his face.

He searched the dragon's eyes, but they were closed. The rumble sounded again, and if he didn't know any better, the witcher would have guessed that the monster was humming.

When it opened its eyes again, and yellow and e/c met, Geralt had an unbelievable thought, and he whispered:

"Y-Y/N?"

The look in the dragon's eyes changed, and it pulled its head back abruptly.

A growl erupted from the beast's throat, and it only took a matter of seconds for it to tense its muscles and take off the ground.

Geralt was left in a daze, panic, and realization the only thing he believed to have seen in the dragon's expression.

Leaves fluttered to the ground, and the deep claw marks in the dirt before him were the only proof for the monster's presence.

What... What just happened?

The dragon had touched him. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on his chest. It's warm. The dovah had an unexpectedly high body temperature.

Why did it...? Y/N... Was it really him? H-How...

He remembered something the foreigner had told them.

His dragon soul was too much for his human body, and he slowly turned into a dovah.

"The dovahkiin..."

Geralt lifted himself off the ground and took off running to the direction the dragon left for.

The dragon didn't make it far.

Geralt saw him soaring through the sky and circling above a clearing in the forest. The witcher could see a small hut standing at the clearing border, and he remembered another thing that Y/N had told him and Jaskier.

I've been staying here in the forest for a few weeks in a hut half a mile from here.

Geralt slowly realized that his intuition was probably correct.

When he arrived at the clearing, the black dragon had already landed.

Although it was more like a crash. Long furrows plowed the forest ground. But the Butcher of Blaviken couldn't see the dragon lying there because a strange fog obstructed his view. He was hesitant about approaching the steam, but he really wanted to know if his theory was correct. A voice interrupted his twisting thoughts:

"Bormah, Bormah... Aak dovah!"

It was deep and raspy, and he didn't understand what it said, but Geralt could recognize it instantly. It was him.

Y/N was the dragon.

His whole body hurt.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Blue eyes watched him with a worried expression. He didn't reply. What was there to say? The dovah needed to die. He was the only one capable of killing them.

Why couldn't he understand?

"Think about it, Y/N. You're one of them, so you shouldn-"

"Don't you dare compare me to them! I AM THE DRAGONBORN! Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin!"

He knew he went too far as soon as he saw the other's expression.

Farkas stared at him with slightly widened eyes.

"Control yourself, Dovahkiin. Or else disaster will fall upon you and the ones you love."

Arngeir stepped forward and put a shoulder on his lover's shoulder. He could feel how his pupils flickered. Anger welled in his stomach.

"Don't touch him..."

His voice was low and threatening. Farkas scoffed, but his face only showed hurt.

"Don't worry about me, Dragonborn."

The distance in his words was like a thorn in his heart. The idea that Farkas couldn't understand his thoughts tore his heart in two. Y/N only watched when his significant other walked out of the room, Arngeir following him.

"Wa-Wait, Farkas, no!"

He reached out his hand to stop him, but the other man was already so far away.

"Akatosh, Akatosh, help me!"

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a wail escaped his lips.

Arngeir was right. Disaster fell upon him.

The skin shedding on his back, his pupils turning to slits, the increased usage of Dovahzul, all were signs for his slow transformation.

He couldn't believe that the stories Odahviing had told him jokingly were real. His dragon soul was changing his body and personality.

And now it had happened. He turned into a dragon.

How many times had he already done that? The witcher mentioned that the monster they were hunting tormented the villagers.

What had he done?!

The pain he felt after transforming was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. Y/N became the monster he had thought he was slaying when he had eradicated all the dragons from Skyrim.

The scars he had received from all the dovah burned, and shame clung to his heart.

Why didn't he listen to Arngeir?

The greybeard was wise and only wanted his best after the dragonborn distanced himself from the Blades. His loved one died because he didn't listen!

And now he... He turned into an inhumane beast.

Suddenly he remembered the bard. Did he attack him?! A sinking feeling struck his gut.

Please, no, no, NO!

What about Geralt?

Oh Talos... I have to return to the camp!

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy. He groaned.

What if the two others were bleeding out while he laid here? If the witcher died... Y/N was sure he could never forgive himself.

Farkas's death was something that he could slowly overcome, although it took him years, and he still hadn't let him go but... If the witcher's death joined, he was sure his shoulders would give in under all the regret.

Just imagining how these beautiful yellow eyes lost their light, he couldn't take it.

He didn't realize it immediately, but his heart was already in the hands of Geralt. He had already lost.

Y/N finally regained some strength, and he used it to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could see that the sky had already turned dark blue.

He knew what lurked in the forest at night.

The thought reminded him again of the witcher. What an irony that it took the white-haired man less than a day to sweep him off his feet. It was the complete opposite with Farkas. Maybe they weren't that similar at all.

He turned on his side and soon realized that his back felt different. The cold wind gave his arms goosebumps, but his back felt perfectly warm. He lifted his arm and cricked it to reach his shoulderblade. When his fingers grazed his back, he sucked in some air.

That definitely wasn't flesh. That smooth texture... Y/N would recognize it everywhere. He had felt it so many times after all.

His back was full of scales.

Panic and adrenaline gave him strength, and he sat up, ignoring the pain that bolted through his torso. Only now did he realize that he was completely naked.

That shocked him less than the fact that only a few meters away stood the Butcher of Blaviken with wide eyes, his sword in his hand ready to attack.

"Y-You..." Geralt didn’t continue.

Y/N opened his mouth but didn't say anything as soon as he saw how the other man flinched.

His heart pounded loud in his ears, and he felt light-headed. He breathed in, it sounded strained.

A smile crept on his lips, and he grinned exhausted.

"Thank Talos, you're alive..."

The witcher didn't know what to respond.

He was frozen although he couldn't tell if it was because the person before him was a fire-spitting dragon or because the man was butt naked. Something that usually wouldn't impress him but after realizing that Y/N attracted him... He was conflicted.

"You... you turned into a dragon," he finally said with a neutral tone.

The man sitting in the crater nodded slowly. He looked as lost as Geralt felt.

Did he not know?

"Are you... Are you the dovahkiin?"

Y/N nodded again, and he lowered his head.

The witcher could see the shame on his face. After receiving this information, he didn't know what to do with it. It should probably agitate him, all the villagers that had their cattle stolen and all the lost prey on hunts, but Geralt felt nothing. The shock was perhaps too deep.

One is a sorceress, one a dragon. It seems like I fall in love with extraordinary people. Wait...

His eyes found the e/c ones. Did he really...? Y/n watched him with a conflicted expression.

"Do you want to kill me?"

The question surprised him; he hadn't thought about it. But he opposed it.

"Should I?"

His voice had a challenging undertone, but it sounded light, and his heart fluttered a little when the other man smiled weakly.

Geralt lowered his sword. Y/N didn't feel like a threat; in fact, he looked defeated.

The h/c haired man leaned back and exposed his torso. The witcher was right. Even his chest was full of scars, and most of them looked like claw marks.

A strong warrior.

"I caused you a lot of trouble. If I have to pay for it, I'll gladly do it with my life. It's not worth much anymore."

These words caused him to frown. The man sounded like he had already given up. Where was his will to fight?

The imposing aura Geralt had felt when he stood tall as a dragon was gone without a trace. This man was broken. He couldn't imagine what Y/N had gone through, but he wouldn't let a warrior like him die a fool's death.

"It's true. You caused me a lot of trouble..."

The Dragonborn watched him with an apologetic expression. Geralt eyed him from head to toe, his stare burning.

"But instead of paying with your life, why not pay me with something else?"

Y/N blinked and stared blankly, then he blushed furiously. The witcher’s heart skipped a beat.

Did Y/N also...?

It excited Geralt that he apparently knew what he was hinting at and reacted this strongly. It meant he had a chance. Then he remembered the ring. Geralt examined the naked man and realized the necklace was gone.

"Your ring..."

Y/N touched his throat. Nothing was there. Geralt expected his face to turn panicked, but only a melancholic expression showed up.

"It's fine. It's time to move on."

The witcher didn't pry further, but he knew he didn't have to. The smile on Y/N's lips said enough.

"So, how am I supposed to repay you?"

The man lifted an eyebrow and grinned. He gulped, he didn't expect the man to be this willing. Suddenly he felt bad about his desires.

"Toss me a coin."

The warrior from Keizaal tilted his head and puckered his lips. Then he smiled, and his e/c eyes turned into crescents. They looked happy. But most importantly, human.

Warmth spread in his chest.

He had a thought that his future would be a lot more interesting with the dovahkiin by his side and Jaskier.

Wait...

Both of them opened their mouth and shouted:

“Jaskier!”

_______

Endnote: Congrats! You made it! Like I said at the beginning, this fic is based on a headcanon of mine. Where the dragonborn slowly turns into a dragon because of his dragon soul. The dovahkiin is able to live a lot longer than any other human due to his dragon nature and it’s taking a toll on him. The scales are something I had imagined from the start. This is a drawing of my dragonborn which I used as inspiration for this fic:

I wanted the story to end in a rather light tone which some might not find appropriate but I honestly got a little exhausted. I wrote this as a oneshot of 12k words, which was definitely too much xD Writing so much is new to me. But I’m proud that I made it this far :)

I wanted Yennefer to play a part here but more like the one of a former lover. She was also a tool to give Geralt a reason why he likes Y/N since he’s officially straight in canon.

I already decided to create a fic where Geralt gets taken to Skyrim but I haven’t decided if it’s going to be a sequel to this yet. We’ll see I guess.

Some sentences that were spoken in Dovahzul were purposely not translated because it was either from Geralt’s sight or it was to show that the dragonborn was slowly changing. But they meant the following:

Dii rii lovaas fah hi. Wo los hi? Hi los ni rok = My soul sings for you. Who are you? You are not him (as in Farkas).

Dii Zahkrii kriin Dovah ni aak niin = My Sword slays dragons not help them

Thank you for reading and being patient with me :D

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xxrat-bastardxx · 4 years ago

Text

mind if i slide in the first three parts of my zoro x reader fanfiction in here, its posted on archive of our own and wattpad too but i might just switch over to here so ppl can request one piece oneshots and drabbles n’ stuff anyway here it is:

Stargazer: A Roronoa Zoro x Reader

I've been looking up recently. Not that I don't look up ever, as it is kinda my unspoken job on this ship. However instead of looking up to navigate the stars at night, lately I have been fascinated with looking at the crow's nest in the daytime, wondering what a certain swordsman was doing in there all day. Since I joined the crew the green haired hunk intrigued me. His cold personality strange to me as it was so different than everyone else on the ship. Although I found him interesting we never really had conversations, only short small talk here and there and common courtesy. A part of me wanted to get closer to him and find out all of his little secrets. The sane part telling me to leave him alone and find another person to bother.

"(Y/N)!" Luffy yelled, pulling me out of my daydream, "FOOD!"

"Go get Zoro while you're at it too," Nami followed.

I got up from my spot on the grass and started my ascent. A sudden wave of excitement and nervousness washing over me. Finally I would learn the secrets of the crows nest. I unlatch the door and pull myself up, sitting myself up with my legs dangling out of the door.

"Oh, that's boring," I say accidentally, quickly covering my mouth when I realized I actually said that out loud. Zoro drops his weight and looks at me, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Excuse me? What did you say?" He questions even though he obviously understood what I said.

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. I was just expecting...Well I don't know what I was expecting, something different I guess." I answer not wanting to lie to the poor man I just insulted.

Don't get me wrong walking in on a buff man working out is not necessarily boring. Just the obvious thing a buff man would be doing with his time. I guess I was hoping he would turn out to be a mad scientist or delicately painting the ocean from the perfect view the windows give.

"Um...Anyway. It's dinner time, Nami wanted me to come get you," I say trying to change the topic and quickly make my escape. "I'll be going now, sorry I interrupted your workout."

"Wait," Zoro says, stopping me before I leap down to the safety of the deck, "I'll walk with you." Weird. I just insulted him and now he wants to walk with me. It's not even that far of a walk either...

I wait for him to grab a towel and dry off his sweat before heading down to the deck. Waiting for him at the bottom I listen to the commotion ensuing in the kitchen. If we don't hurry our damn captain will eat all the food. I hear a soft thump as the swordsman lands next to me. Looking up at him I shudder slightly just now realizing our hight difference. I quickly take in all of his features, never being this close for so long. Short green hair, did it always look that soft? Tan skin, was it always that smooth? Thick scar running across his chest, do you think he would let me touch it, I wonder how it feels? Damnit (y/n), why are you such a creep! I shake my head and start the short journey to the kitchen. Zoro following silently. I turn open the door to the kitchen with a smile and offer Zoro the chance to go in first. He nods to me in thanks and takes his seat at the table.

"There you are (y/n)-swan! I thought that marimo brute kidnapped you, I was about to go save you myself," Sanji swoons carrying plates of delicious looking food. I laugh making his face light up as I sit down. The mentioned brute becoming visibly annoyed at the cook.

"Don't worry Sanji he couldn't kidnap me even if he tried. Everyone knows I'm too quick to get caught," I reply teasing Zoro as I point my chopsticks at him.

"Tch, how do you know...I wouldn't even want to kidnap you." Zoro grumbles poking at his food.

"Did I make the moss head sad?" I jab, enjoying the thrill of making fun of such a powerful person. If I wasn't able to find his hidden talent, annoying him would be the next best thing. I wanted to know how far I could take it. I swear a slight tinge of red now dusted his cheeks and ears. Cute. He didn't respond but ate the rest of his meal obviously fuming.

"Luffy?" I question making the captain pause for a moment, "Who's on night shift with me tonight?" Since I navigated the ship most nights with the stars so Nami could relax, I usually asked for a helper to be on deck so I wouldn't drop dead the next day because of pulling all nighters every night. After asking it became apparent that Luffy hadn't thought of it one bit during the day. Which was typical of the airhead.

"Ussop!" Luffy smiles. It was obvious this was the first name to come to his head.

"Hey! I've done it 3 times this week already, why not someone else?!" Ussop retaliates. Ouch. I laugh it off understanding that for a normal person that was too much time to be awake.

"I'll do it," Zoro growls "I did it most of the time before she joined so its fine." This shocked me a little, he had never offered before and just after I've insulted him this much he wants to hang out with me? Or maybe he'll through me overboard as revenge. I guess if I survive the night I'll be able to learn more about him so maybe this is my dream come true.

After dinner I go to the back of the ship and watch the sunset, It was my nightly ritual so to say. Something calm to end the hectic days on the Sunny. I take in the salty ocean air and lean my head into my hand. The ocean was so peaceful today, a gentle current pulling the ship along gentle waves. So lost in the moment I didn't realize the person coming up behind me until I felt a strong pair of hands on my shoulders. I yelp in surprise and whip around to face my attacker.

"You say you're too fast to catch, yet you don't even hear me coming," Zoro scoffs.

"Hey, that's not fair, I wasn't paying attention," I pout crossing my arms over my chest. Now this guy was touching me? What the heck did I do to get all this attention, I thought teasing him would do the opposite! I guess I'm in for a long night.

We sat in an awkward silence for the next hour, I still had no idea why this man wanted to give me so much attention all of a sudden. I had been on the ship for almost 2 months now and had never gotten any recognition from him before. Most of my time was spent with Nami talking about maps and directions, or with Ussop and Franky trying to make bigger better telescopes to research the huge sky above us. And if I wasn't with them I was usually sleeping, preparing myself for the night ahead.

I look over to the man sitting a couple feet away, bottle in hand. Aha! Conversation starter, please let this awkward silence end!

"So, you like sake?" Damnit he wouldn't be drinking if he didn't like it. Why did you ask something so obvious.

"Yeah, I guess so." He replied taking another swig. Come on (y/n) think of something better. A few more excruciating minutes passed, nothing came to mind of what I could do to fix the situation.

"I don't really drink, I don't like the taste," I say, another awkward sentence for another awkward situation.

Zoro snickers, "I guess you just haven't had the right alcohol then," He reaches the bottle out towards me, "Try it," He says. Carefully I reach out and take the bottle in my hands. I shrug and take a sip. Nope still awful! I scrunch my face as the swordsman laughs. Wiping my mouth I pass back the bottle.

"Nope, definitely not for me," I mutter, earning another chuckle from Zoro.

"It seems like you don't like anything I do huh," Zoro says.

"Huh! No no no, its not like that I promise!" I quickly jab. I sigh and look up at the stars. Zoro softly punches my shoulder.

"I know I'm joking. You're different, I like that," He reassures me. At least now I know he isn't planning on throwing me overboard.

"Wait what do you mean I'm different?" I say, the phrase finally hitting.

"You aren't in awe of me, I respect that." Zoro says softly. A blush creeps onto my face, I didn't expect something like this from the guy. He seemed so cold and distant most of the time, it was quite intimidating. I look down at my lap, trying to hide the redness of my face. It was reassuring to know that the scariest person on the ship thought of me with respect. With those words the atmosphere seemed to lighten up. Instead of excruciating silence it was calm, like my moments with the sunset. I lie down looking at the stars, the spring constellations jumping out at me. The grand line may have the strangest seasons, but the sky remains the same throughout the years, on a cycle you could count on. Reliable as always, beautiful as always.

I hadn't noticed Zoro lying next to me until he spoke. "What are you looking at?" I turn to him our faces closer now.

"The constellations," I reply, "They help me figure out where we need to go, and what time of the year it is."

"Hmm, I never thought of it that way," Zoro says turning back to the sky, hands behind his head like a pillow. I daringly scoot closer to the man. Leaning closer to him I point to a collection of stars.

"Look over there is the Big Dipper, that one you probably already know. Oh, and over there is Virgo!" I explain excitedly. I continue to gush over the stars pointing out more constellations and going into some of the stories behind them. This goes on for a while, I spit out random star facts while Zoro nods and quietly takes in the information I shove at him. By the time my rant is over we are sitting up again, much closer than last time. When we first sat down it was as ship mates who barely knew each other, now it was like friends, who still, barely knew each other.

"You see, I grew up on a small, but well developed island. There was a lot of light pollution so I could hardly see the stars. Definitely not how we can see them tonight. My parents were just business people, nothing special, but my grandmother was an astrologer. She taught me almost everything I know about the sky now." I slow down, "Before she passed she told me that the only place I could truly see the sky in its glory is the sea. There no one can pollute the sky with bright lights and you'll be the freest you'll ever be. So that's what brought me to the Grand Line I guess. My parents weren't so happy about it but I didn't care what they thought." I hadn't noticed my tears until a calloused hand wiped them away. A small gasp escapes my mouth as I look up at Zoro, our faces much closer than I ever thought they would be. His hand remains on my face as he looks at me, the gears in his head turning. He moves a stray (h/c) strand out of my face.

I don't know what drives me to do it but I wrap my arms around the man's waist and pull him into a hug. My ear against his chest. It takes a few moments but he soon returns the gesture sliding his strong arms around me. My heart skips a beat as he gently caresses my hair, running his fingers through it. I feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, the beating of his heart echoing in my ear. I knew he was just as nervous as me, even if he refused to show it. I slowly pulled away and our eyes met, locked in to each other for what seemed like hours. A delicate smile was painted on his lips and I smile back at him. What were once cold eyes showed a new formed warmth and fondness. New feelings sparked in me as I looked at his expression and got lost into his gaze. Bravery flooded through me and I hoped he felt the same spark I did as slowly leaned towards him again. I closed the distance putting my forehead against his, eyes closed. I hesitate for a moment putting my hands on his warm cheeks, then softly place a kiss onto his lips. I pull back hands still cupping his face. I look at him, a blush dusted onto his face. He places a hand on my waist and closes the distance once more, returning the kiss with more force than the last. My hands move to his hair as he gently leans me back to the floor. I look into his eyes again when we come up for air.

"I don't hate everything you do, I definitely like this," I say bringing him into another kiss.

A few days had passed since the exciting night watch with Zoro. After getting caught with Zoro straddling me by Luffy we were too embarrassed to really talk to each other. Especially when the stupid captain brought it up during breakfast the next morning. Who knew the kid would expose us like that,

"Zoro why were you wrestling with (y/n) last night? I thought you didn't like playing, you never wrestle with me," Luffy pouts reaching for another piece of toast. This alerts Sanji instantly,

"You brute! Why would you lay a finger on my precious princess?! Explain yourself swordsman!"

Me and Zoro both turn red like a tomato and look away from each other quickly. Nami and Robin snicker both knowing what was going on.

"Um..w-well you see, Its not like you think Sanji. We weren't fighting its f-fine," I manage to blurt out before Sanji went completely apeshit on Zoro.

"But why was he on top of you (y/n)?" Luffy asks. At this point Zoro was just about ready to bolt out of the kitchen and I was just about ready to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. With Luffy's new statement it seemed to have clicked with our ero—cook what was really going on...

I shudder as I recall the events of that awful breakfast and rest my forehead on the chart I had been working on in the aquarium bar. Robin pats my head as she reads her book.

"(y/n), you're going to have to talk to Zoro again. You can't just keep ignoring him like this,"

"I'd rather die than have that awkward conversation. Plus he probably is totally over me now, he's avoiding me too you know," I mumble into the paper.

"I'm sure that's not the case (y/n). I bet he feels the same as you do right now," Robin reassures me, flipping the page.

"I think I'm going to go take a nap to clear my head," I say softly closing the lid to my ink and rolling the chart back up.

"Have fun," Robin replies, lost in her book like always.

I start my walk to the girl's room remembering how gentle Zoro was when we kissed. It was a nice surprise, I didn't realize how caring he could be. His smile flashed in my mind, how genuine it was, how deeply he listened to everything I said, truly interested in every story I told about the stars. Everything that night felt right after we took down our guard walls. God I hope that's not the last time I see his smile.

Hmm, tomorrow is my night off, I wonder what I should do. Sleeping that whole time sounds like a waste, maybe I'll pamper myself extra and take a longer bath. Yeah that sounds like it will be perfect.

I turn the corner and suddenly trip over something on the floor.

"Ack! What the hell was that?!" I yell, rudely pulled out of planning my night off. I turn around to see who tripped me to yell at them some more but stopped once I saw who it was. "Zoro?! W-what are you doing napping in the hallway?"

He blushes slightly and turns his head away from me, "I was waiting for you so I could talk to you."

"Oh, umm what did you want to talk about?" I ask sitting up,

"I wanted to apologize. For the other night," He says looking in his lap.

"What would you have to apologize for? You didn't do anything wrong" I reply

"If it wasn't for me taking things too far then Luffy wouldn't have embarrassed you in front of the whole crew like that. I'm sorry that I was the cause of that," Zoro says starting to get up. Before he could walk away I grab his arm and pull him back down. I look him in the eyes making sure he listens to what I have to say.

"Zoro, you have nothing to be sorry about, I don't think you took things to far. I'm glad you did what you did and no amount of embarrassment is going to change that," I start, "Look, I'm just glad you don't hate me. I really like you, you know."

Those seemed to be the magic words as Zoro face lights up, the same beautiful smile he gave me that night resurfacing. He leans closer and kisses my cheek. "Meet me in the crows nest tomorrow night," He says, turning back into his confident self. He kisses me before getting up, "I really like you too," He says before turning and leaving me sitting in the hallway.

It didn't register what I got myself into until a few moments later.

"Holy shit, I just confessed to Zoro. AND HE LIKES ME BACK!" I yell to no one in particular. I jump up and run the rest of the way to the girls room like a 15 year old who just met their celebrity crush. Not my best moment but it was so good to know how Zoro felt about me. It was even better that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him. I was to excited after that to get a nap in but that was fine by me.

\ \ \

Nami came in to get me for dinner a few hours later. I was surprised she didn't ask me about what had happened between me and the swordsman, I'm sure everyone on the ship could hear my squeal of excitement earlier. I'm sure her pestering would come soon enough.

We make our way to the kitchen quickly not wanting Luffy to eat everything before we get there. I was going to sit in my normal spot next to Nami but before I could get there a familiar hand grabbed mine,

"Sit next to me," Zoro says gently tugging at my hand. I smile and sit next to him mouthing a quick sorry to Nami. The new seating arrangement did not go unnoticed by anyone. Everyone was either shocked or weirded out by how physical Zoro had become with you. His embarrassment was obviously gone as he shamelessly had his hand on my knee the entire meal and kissed my cheek every once in a while. Sanji was fuming the entire meal as well, and Zoro shot him his normal icy glares. It was almost as he was making fun of the cook at times or maybe just making sure that Sanji knew his place.

It actually wasn't long before the meal felt like just an average dinner on the Sunny. Brook singing and joking with Franky, Nami being annoyed with Sanji as Robin laughs at his antics, Luffy eating all the food while Chopper and Ussop try and match his impossible pace. Time seemed to slow down every time I ate with the rowdy crew, just having a good time.

After dinner I head to the back of the ship again to watch the sunset like normal. It was the perfect day for a nice sunset, just enough clouds to make the light shine just right, caressing the sky with beautiful pinks and oranges. I smile, stretch, and head to the grass to sit with Franky to start the night shift. We had planned to set up the telescope so I could do some extra research for my chart.

It was getting late and only a few of the crew members were still on the deck. I saw the light in the crows nest go out and Zoro heading down to the deck. I tell Franky I'd be back and went to go say goodnight to the moss head. I get to the bottom of the ladder just as Zoro does.

"You off to bed?" I ask.

"Yeah, I have to be up early for training tomorrow." He says yawning.

"Ok sleepy head, get some good rest. I'll see you in the morning,"

"Goodnight (y/n)," He smiles and leans down to gently kiss my lips. I watch him disappear into the ship before I go back to Franky and the telescope, a grin plastered on my face.

I love the whole "Zoro is actually a cuddle bug" head cannon so i sorta ran with it in this oops. anywhoo lmk how you like it or if u want more, i’ll be taking requests for x reader stuff and writing more so yeah

#zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #strawhat pirates #one piece #fanfiction #fluff #tell me what to write #requests open

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yewfallen · 4 years ago

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the hitman of conote... and febail’s here too ig

it’s april fools day and so i feel like it’s as good a time as any to explain the guy i’m using in my icon in a meta comparing him to the actual golden archer boy featured on this blog. wow n look at u ruining the joke by making a serious post out of it smh smh anyway my thoughts on the two, comparing and contrasting them, are under the cut !!

for those who don’t know, the game genealogy of the holy war has a second generation system. febail is one of those second gen units and his existence hinges upon the idea that you get his mom, brigid, married off, but if you don’t then he will simply Never Be Born. to not screw the player out of missing a unit however, he’s replaced with a substitute character named asaello who shares the same class, the same recruitment time, but they are not the same stat-wise, growth-wise and even differ in conversations they can get. whilst they serve the same function, they are definitely different people.

both begin their journeys as assassins who take jobs to fund the orphans they both have taken under their care. however, asaello has an additional conversation that febail doesn’t get, seen below:

Person #1: “Uwaa!! The hitman from Conote has returned! Everybody, run for your life!” Asaello: “…” Person #2: “…” Asaello: “…Aren’t you going to run, too?” Person #2: “…You look sad.” Asaello: “Hmm? Yeah, maybe I am a little.” Person #2: “Here, take these! They’re berries we gathered in the woods. Cheer up! They’ll make you big and strong!” Asaello: “…Thanks.”

( FE4, Chapter 8, Village Visit with Asaello )

there’s a few things i find interesting with this conversation. first, asaello has a moniker whereas febail does not. given the fact that febail has major holy blood and is thus superhuman and can wield a legendary bow but asaello isn’t yet it’s still him who gets the epithet, i read this as asaello being the more skillful hitman between the two of them. febail has already won the genetic lottery and can brute force his way through jobs, plus his rare blood makes it so he’s coveted based upon that. asaello doesn’t have that advantage, but he still makes it to the same job and position that febail does.

this leads to my second point: asaello had to work for that a lot harder than febail did. he’s earned the title of ‘ hitman of conote ’ and his fearsome reputation is the consequence of his work. asaello has likely taken way more jobs and cannot escape his infamy. he possesses the same pure intentions and heart that febail does, but he arguably leads the sadder life, constantly living in a world where people don’t want to get close to him. they see him as a bringer of death, and for someone as nurturing as him, that likely turned his entire world upside down.

but there’s something else febail gets that asaello doesn’t. febail gets a life purpose.

both these young men are ones who have lost sight of what they ought to be doing in life, driven to their dark lifestyles due to circumstances out of their control. febail in canon finds out he’s secretly the son of a duchess and the only known living person who can wield his holy bow. he has a legacy, and he escapes his misguided life with a renewed sense of purpose: to find out more about his family and to live up to the legacy his bloodline has left behind. he brings this up in one of his conversations with his sister:

Febail: “Patty! Are you stealing again!?” Patty: “Yeah, just a little.” Febail: “Well, knock it off! I don’t care if it is coming from the enemy.” Patty: “You think I like doin’ this!? Do you have any idea just how low our army’s food supply is? That takes money!” Febail: “Yeah, well, I caught a guy making fun of you. He said, ‘It’s no wonder you became a thief with a pirate for a mum’. Of course, I floored the guy for saying that.” Patty: “Let ’em say whatever they want, Febail. It doesn’t bother me. ‘Cause now we know our mother was a warrior… and of Crusader Ulir descent to boot! I was so happy I started cryin’ when Lewyn told me that…” Febail: “Yeah, me too. With all we’ve gone through… growing up as orphans and all… I never would’ve dreamed our mother was of noble rank. Do you remember her at all?” Patty: “Nope, not one bit. How about you?” Febail: “Just a little… just that she was beautiful and very kind.” Patty: “…So she’s dead, then?” Febail: “I don’t know… But you and I are going to look for her when we’re all done here. …And then we can finally find out who our father is.”

( FE4, Chapter 9, Talk with Febail and Patty )

he has no proof that his mother is alive, but you get the sense he hopes and believes in this new dream more than anything, and FE5 implies febail would go on to spend the next seven years trying to make this dream come to fruition. i paste this entire conversation to contrast it with asaello’s equivalent conversation with his own sister:

Asaello: “Daisy! Are you stealing again!?” Daisy: “Yeah, just a little.” Asaello: “Well, knock it off! I don’t care if it’s coming from the enemy.” Daisy: “You think I like doin’ this!? Do you have any idea just how low our army’s food supply is? That takes money!” Asaello: “I know, but…” Daisy: “And the orphans back in Conote need money too, don’t they? I tell ya, I’m beat!” Asaello: “Yeah, it sounds like it. I wonder how they’re all doing…” Daisy: “You gotta pitch in, too! You better not be wasting all your arena prize money, Asaello!” Asaello: “Geez… I’ve gotta learn to keep my mouth shut…”

( FE4, Chapter 9, Talk with Asaello and Daisy )

here, the conversation basically starts almost exactly the same, but it soon enough diverges from febail’s and patty’s. where febail’s ends on a hopeful note, asaello’s ends nowhere near that. there’s no soul searching, only reprimanding him. you get the sense that febail’s truly begun to change as a person from the assassin who was willing to compromise his morals if it meant getting enough money to feed the kids under his care to now someone who knows what he wants to do with his life and is unwilling to compromise on that.

asaello is still stuck, clearly struggling with feeding the orphans and making ends meet. we get this revelation that he has a spending problem, perhaps even a gambling problem, and his gambling is not only deadly to his wallet but also to his own wellbeing. he gambles through the arena, and he’ll risk getting extremely hurt to win. up until he joined the army, he was alone because of his fearsome reputation as the hitman of conote. asaello also doesn’t have yewfelle, febail’s bow which allows febail to heal over time. asaello when he gets hurt must tend to his own wounds.

asaello is living in a life where he likely was driven to gamble because he wasn’t making enough money to help provide for those he cares about, and this was his desperate shot to multiply what money he did have. his story is bleak and revealed to be even bleaker at the same time febail’s is revealed to be turning around for the better.

this is the tragedy that is set with the substitute characters even besides asaello. they are all in similar positions or somehow comparable to these other characters, but because they weren’t born with the right blood in their veins, their life is a lot worse. their happy endings are typically at best bittersweet. asaello isn’t even the most depressing of the lot, but he certainly explores the nature of futility and making do, and this is even shown in the final chapter where everything is leading up to a great triumph after years of oppression and struggles across the whole continent.

Muirne: “Asaello… Look, I know how you feel, but you really should let them handle this.” Asaello: “Man, if only I had a little Crusader blood in me… I’d be tearin’ the enemy up!” Muirne: “Well, lots of us wish we were of Crusader lineage, but look on the bright side. We’ve been fortunate just to be able to come this far. Most commoners like us never get such a chance.” Asaello: “Commoners… Life’s so unfair. Everyone else around here is either of royalty or nobility.” Muirne: “Cheer up, Asaello! You’ve got a whole fan club of kids who are dying for you to get back!” Asaello: “Yeah, I guess I can’t complain. I do have you after all, too.” Muirne: “Hehehe… Asaello…”

( FE4, Endgame, Lovers Convo with Muirne and Asaello )

asaello and muirne have both been major fixtures of the army by this point, but they both tell themselves that they aren’t good enough. they can’t handle this final battle. you, the player, are inclined to agree with them, given the fact they underperform when compared to their canonical counterparts found in febail and lana. they especially underperform compared to the likes of seliph, ares, and other holy blooded people in the army beside them.

fe4 encourages you to be complicit in jugdral’s philosophy that holy blood makes someone better and that everyone else just will never live up to them. the game makes you feel that same sense of futility that the substitute characters do.

when asaello says if only he had a little crusader blood in him, he’d be able to tear the enemy up... he’s right. and that’s what hurts. his self-deprecation is founded. life is unfair.

the only way for muirne and asaello to end their conversation happily is to accept the fact they will always remain subpar and that they must settle for happiness elsewhere. their happiness is in each other, in people far away from what they’re both involved in right now, and that’s okay.

we make it to the epilogue and we get to the final differences in character i can remark between asaello and febail. though they both had the same reasons for becoming assassins and ended up starting on the same path, their endings couldn’t be anymore different.

febail goes to yngvi in grannvale to chase his new purpose in life. he doesn’t even mention returning home to conote. febail tells seliph that he’ll pledge himself to him, but for asaello, the war’s end signals his return home and the final words he’ll ever say to seliph. this is the end of the road for them.

but their words afterwards with their respective lovers in the epilogue is interesting — well, at least to me anyway! and uh, there’s no real easy way for me to discuss this in a way that isn’t long as hell, so get ready for the misadventures of two boys love lives i guess.

every single febail lovers convo in the epilogue goes basically something like this, with slight word tweaking to try and fit whomever his lover (grabbed larcei+creidne for this just out of convenience of them being first) is:

Febail: “On this blessed bow, Lord Seliph, I swear I’ll be with you every step of the way!” Larcei/Creidne: “So what about what you swore to me?” Febail: “Huh? What did I promise you again?” Larcei/Creidne: “You’re kidding... You forgot ALREADY?” Febail: “Kidding, kidding! It was a joke! Sorry... Wow, that’s a terrifying look you’re giving me.” Larcei/Creidne: “Can you blame me for not being sure?”

( FE4, Epilogue, Seliph’s Grannvalian Talks - Febail )

compare this to the conversation asaello would have with this exact same pairing:

Larcei/Creidne: “Asaello... Leaving Seliph now’s gotta be pretty painful, huh? I know you’ll tough it out.” Asaello: “I know that, Larcei/Creidne. I'm not weak.” Larcei/Creidne: “What's with the attitude? I'm just worried about you!” Asaello: “Don't worry about me. I told you, I'm not weak. You couldn't possibly understand how I feel!” Larcei/Creidne: “Fine, then. I'm leaving you. You can go home by yourself!” Asaello: “Hold on, I didn't mean it... I'm sorry! Just don't leave me!” Larcei/Creidne: “Hmph...” Asaello: “Larcei/Creidne... Come on. I need you.” Larcei/Creidne: “Okay, but I need you to promise one thing: don't talk back to me ever again.” Asaello: “F-Fine... I promise...” Larcei/Creidne: “Then all is forgiven. Let's go.” Asaello: “Sigh... Can't live with her, can't live without her...”

( FE4, Epilogue, Seliph’s Thracian Talks - Asaello )

this is the second instance we see a personality distinction between febail and asaello. go back to their conversations with their sisters that i showed earlier and these traits are repeated. where febail can hold his own in arguments and is quick to make his rebuttals, asaello absolutely crumples. febail exudes confidence and will talk when necessary. asaello is easily overtaken by his sister retorting against him for his scolding her, and here with larcei or creidne, he quickly is relegated to begging and conceding to her. asaello gives me the impression that he might be a bit more starved for affection than febail is, and is consequently a lot more scared to speak back or to have people act coldly to him. he seems to shut down a lot more easily and also opens up more emotionally where febail is more stubborn with sticking to hiding his embarrassment.

this trait of asaello, his tendency to fold to the other, is explored by him having actually multiple unique conversations his different lovers, unlike febail who essentially uses a cookie-cutter convo with all of them.

fee/femina and lene/laylea will first reassure asaello that they’ll be there for him before teasing him by saying they like how he’s cute when he’s shy; lana/muirne, nanna/jeanne, and tine/linda will trick asaello into admitting that the only thing that helps him cure his loneliness is by being with them and even goads him into confessing point-blank just how much they mean to him in his desperation to not cause any miscommunication.

but i think more than his conversations in the epilogue with his lovers proving this disparity of emotional vulnerability breaking open more easily are his conversations in the case when his sister daisy is dead.

Seliph: “Asaello, I... I’m so sorry about Daisy...” Asaello: “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who stuffed up here. I... I’ll take Daisy home with me. She deserves to rest with her parents. Then... Then I can mourn her.” Seliph: “Asaello...”

( FE4, Epilogue, Seliph’s Thracian Talks - Asaello while Daisy’s dead )

asaello’s epilogue talks change based upon this whereas febail’s don’t, emphasizing how truly bittersweet the ending of the game is for him even more in this scenario. this is a trait shared by all the other guys too, for the record. the canon characters like febail, lester, etc. don’t get conversations depending on whether or not their sisters die, but their substitutes like asaello and deimne do. fe4′s ending is here to remind us every time something bad happens to the substitute kids, and it will force us to stew in it too.

asaello gets a lot of unique conversations with his lovers to follow up on this too, each one exploring his sadness and even one a couple admitting how he openly has cried even as he tries to remain strong when talking about daisy’s death.

he can’t handle daisy’s death. she’s basically all he had left in this world after they had both been orphaned very young. if he doesn’t have a lover, there is no one to comfort him. he is nothing more than the hitman of conote, feared and alone, and he will willingly walk away from the one connection he has in lord seliph after the war is said and done with despite his misery.

this isn’t to say febail’s life is without its own struggles or depressing moments too, but his happiness always feels like it is something he owns and that there is light at the end of the tunnel for him. he will bask in his dreams where asaello is sinking and settling, trudging through a grim reality based upon compromises and scrounging for his more modest joys if he can find them.

the image i drew at the top was, in truth, a bit of a lie. when looking at febail and his substitute asaello, it isn’t febail and the cooler (?) febail; it is in fact febail and the more depressing febail. thanks, kaga.

#// i thought this post was going to be bullet points i'm crying #// i apologize to the mobile dash users if this readmore doesn't work for u. oh god.#+. / hcs + metas.#+. / mun's art.#long post ---

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little-birdseeker · 4 years ago

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Relaxing in Kugane

[A short story i wrote together yesterday. Because i really wanted to write something again, so, well... i did. Hope you'll enjoy it! <3]

With a deep relaxing sigh, Isabelle let herself sink into the warm water, especially with a light breeze that let the steam around her dance a little bit. Hot springs were the best, period! She had to show Nalama them someday, and her parents as well, yes! Didn’t mom tell her that he complained regularly about his backache? The hot spring suuurely would work wonders for his back, especially if someone would give him a massage - something she experienced herself firsthand, although his back would be waaay worse than hers, deeefinitly!

But as this was a hot spring for everyone, she was wearing her own bikini, of course, unlike in her bath at home. But the hot spring had some very important advantages: first of all, she didn’t have to clear it herself, and second, she was able to meet plenty of new people here! Like the old man the last time. He had told her about various stories from his life, and as it turned out, he was a skilled weaver himself. Or had been, as his body wasn’t as precise as in the past. But he wanted to teach her this and that, especially some techniques from the far East she hadn’t learned in Ul’dah! They juuust had to find some time for it, but that shouldn’t be too complicated, yes!

She also had met some new customers in this hot spring, as well as new friends. For most of them, her pointy and fluffy ears had made them curious, as Miqo’te weren’t as usual around here as they were in Eorzea, while others… well, she wasn’t sure, but they had their reasons as well! And the last group of girls she had met, they had shown her this little spot! Perfect for smaller girls like herself, as the water was juuust deep enough to reach her shoulders while sitting! And it was also a liiittle bit hidden, so not everyone was able to take a peek! Not that she minded, but at times it was a nice change of pace.

With another sigh, Isabelle let herself sink a little more into the water and enjoyed the moment as she closed her eyes. Yes, life was good.

After dozing for a while, she heard some footsteps. Or… more like the splashing of someone's feet, heading towards her little spot. A quiet “Oh.” could be heard, followed by... silence. That didn’t sound right! Isabelle opened her eyes a bit, just to see one, no, two guys standing a few meters in front of her. Were they staring? Her ears twitched a bit, as she was examining the nasty intruders with her half-opened eyes. Well, she couldn’t blame them, if they were staring, but still… she was juuust enjoying some alone time! Couldn’t they have just come like… later?

“Hmmm? What iiis it?”, the red cat girl asked a few moments later while opening her eyes completely, as both of the guys didn’t bother to do anything at all. “Oh,uhhh... sorry! I, uh, we thought you were sleeping and didn’t want to disturb. Right?”, the smaller guy said while looking at his comrade. “Uhm… yes. Yes, we didn’t want to wake you up! Didn’t think someone would be here.” Isabelles eyes wandered from one guy to the other, back and forth. Both of them had rather long black hair, with a quite muscular body. With some scars on them? And while the bigger, bulkier guy wore some greyish shorts, the ones of the smaller were black. She didn’t know them, but as far as she knew… they looked more like someone from the forge. Or the barracks.

“Well, but I'm here, as you see!” “Uhm, yeah. We, uhm… noticed”, Small Guy responded with a nod.

“But as we’re here now… hope you don’t mind some company”, Big Guy added and went ahead to sit down near her right side, from where he continued to look at her.

“Right, right. It’s our usual spot, you know?” Without even waiting for Isabelle to object, he sat down left from her. At least they did leave some distance. Isabelle gave a soft sigh, but it was too late now. Well at least she was able to talk to new people!

“Ahhh, nothing beats a bath in a hot spring, ain’t it?” Big Guy gave off a laugh while looking at his buddy, before taking another glance at Isabelle.

“Sure is, sure is. Especially after a long day with a friend”, Small Guy agreed and strechted his legs in the water. “Ah, but don’t forget our lovely company we have here today! Would you mind giving us a name so we know which beauty is here with us?”

“Iiisabelle”, the Miqo'te answered truthfully with a smile, leaving out her surname. She would not make that mistake again! “And youuu are?”

“Oh, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman, i see. Well, i’m Koyo, and my friend here-” Koyo, or Big Guy as Isabelle had called him, pointed to Small Guy. “That’s Tetsu.”

“You new here? Can’t remember to have seen such a lovely woman with, uhm…” Tetsu gestured with his hands while trying to find the right words. “Such, uhm… cute ears, yeah.”

“And we see lots of people everyday. Guards, you know? You know the Sekisegumi, don’t you?”, Koyo Guy Tetsu explained, having his eyes still locked on her. “We’re under the people all day.”

“Ohhh, so you can swing a sword around? Slish! Slash! Like this?” Isabelle gestured with her arms, as if she was swinging a sword around, although it looked more like she was a danger to all present persons if she really had a sword in her hands.

“Yeah…. like that”, Big Guy Koyo noded, but was somehow distracted - probably by her awesome presentation of sword fighting skills!

“But nooo… I'm here since, uhhhh…” Isabelle slowly tapped at her cheek, her eyes turned toward the sky, before she tipped on her fingers as if she was counting. “Uhm… at least two years! I think! Yes!”

“For so long?! How did we-? Well, uhum”, Small Guy Tetsu caughed. “Anyway, what brings such a beautiful woman here? To this lovely city and this hot spring?”

“Oh uhm… I'm a weeeaver! Learning new techniiiques, sewing dreeesses…. aaall kinds of stuff!”

“And you need to relax a bit after work, right? Ah, we doing the same”, Big Guy Koyo laughed. “Oh what would I give for some sake now. But no, nothing is allowed here. Pfah…”

“Yeah, it’s a shame. We should go and drink some after, whatcha think, Koyo? Isabelle, you should come too, we know where to get the best sake in town.”

“Hmm… Iii will think about it. But for now, i juuust want to relax here a bit!”

“Of course, of course”, Koyo nodded. “Nothing against a bit of relaxation. I mean, we have a great view here…”

“Yeah…”, his buddy agreed with him.

They were right, the view was amazing. You could see the sea from the hot spring, see the incoming and departing ships, without looking directly into the sun. Some seagulls were screeching nearby, and the sound of the nearby waterfall was soothing. Although… both of them weren’t looking at the sea right now. Maybe they knew it a bit too well, Isabelle thought. Or… well were they staring at her, she wondered…?

She didn’t give it much thought though. “Yes, i looove the view!”, she answered with a smile. “But you aaaren’t looking at all! Look how beeeautiful the sun is reflected by the sea! I looove to see it!”

“Oh, uhm, yeah, uhm… i got… distracted a bit, yeah”, Small Guy Tetsu stuttered.

“We’re just captivated by your beauty, that’s all. Right? Also… have to admit, you’re quite big for such a small lady, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hmmm…? Ohhh! You mean theeese!” With a sudden realization Isabelle looked down on her chest, which was floating a little bit on the water. “Thaaat’s what you have been looking at!” Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? Well, not that she minded though, they looked nice. But still, intense staring was still veeery much rude!!

“Uhm… yeah…”, Small Guy Koyo nodded slowly. “What did you expect? And they come with a cute face too, right?”, Big Guy Koyo laughed. “Suits you well!”

“They do have a gooood size, yes!”, Isabelle giggled and gave her chest a little proud squish. “But you have staaared enough, right?”

“Oh come on, can you blame us to admire such a great view? Can’t see that anyday, can you?” “Uhm, i caaan…”, she corrected rather rude Big Guy Koyo, who was still staring at her.

“Oh, you can, but what about us? How big are they anyway? They are practically huge, not to say-” “Biiig enough! Thaaat’s what i can say!” Her snappy answer surprised Big Guy Koyo, but he didn’t bother for long.

“Well, that’s something I would say…”, Big Guy responded with a suggestive laugh, which Isabelle responded with ‘Wouldn’t be toooo sure about that…’ in her thoughts, even though the guy was at least two heads bigger than her.

“Buuut i’m here for relaxation, so pleeease don’t bother me!” With those words, Isabelle leaned back and closed her eyes again, trying to ignore both of the brutes.

“Urgh, why do you always have to be so…”, Isabelle heared Small Guy Tetsu talking to his friend, probably. Not that she was interested anymore - those were juuust the usual idiots. Those that weren't interested in herself, but her body. People she wouldn’t want to get to know any further.

“Don’t know watcha mean. I was friendly, right?”

“That’s not- So, now what?!”

“Well, it’s not like she could stop us if we do something like-”

As soon as his hand touched her breast, Isabelle jumped. With a loud SWOOSH, all the steam around the hot spring was blown away, as magical wind blew away from her. Everyone in the hot spring could see the waves in the water, created by the sudden air strike. Isabelle's right arm pointed forward while she was standing in the hot water, while the Big Guy, responsible for the sudden outburst, was lying a few meters away on top of his friend, several meters away from Isabelle. He had a big bruise in the middle of his chest, probably from the magic attack Isabelle had launched directly at him.

An “Urgh…” came from both of them while trying to get onto their feet again. “What was that fo-” “Nooo touchy!”, Isabelle interrupted Big Idiot Koyo, while her voice, still as high as usual, but far louder than you would normally expect, sounded through the hot spring. “And nooo looky for you as well! Leeeave me alone!”

Both men looked again at the small cat lady in front of them. To be fair, she was still cute, even with her angry face, but something seemed off. Especially as the steam, which was rebuilding slowly, seemed to spin around her rather fast, as if, yes… as if there was still a large amount of wind aether gathered around the Miqo’te.

“Okay, okay, got it. Didn’t do anything, though, but sure, if you say so… Come, Tetsu, let’s leave this beast alone. Should have known better after seeing the ears.”

“Yeah, still an animal at heart. What a shame.”

Isabelle tried to ignore the words, although they did hurt a little. But she knew the real animals here, and it wasn’t her, that was for sure!

After they left, she sank into the hot waters once again, trying to relax for real now. The nerves of some men… really. Just because she was small! Why couldn’t they all be gentlemen like… like Tatara, yes! Or… or like Redolent Rose! Shure, he had taken a peek every now and then, but at least he did it respectfully! She gave a deep sigh and sank a bit further into the water, where she blew a few bubbles like she did in her own bathtub. Well… at least they were gone. And as it wasn’t the first time something like this happened, although the others didn’t go as far as to touch her chest… the owner would understand what happened this time. Again. She should tell him about it later. But for now… finally, it was time for some relaxing!

#isabelle birdseeker #writing #story #my writing #about her~

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rwbyvein · 4 years ago

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Firen Lhain: Chapter 011: I Am

Note: This runs parallel to the Checkmate arc, (Stray to Black and White)

* * *

RWBY were walking through Vale, "Oh, this is absolutely wonderful!"

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile this much, Weiss." Ruby said to her, "It's kind of weirding me out..." she mumbled.

"A festival dedicated to the cultures of the world! There will be dances! Parades! A tournament! Oh, the amount of planning and organization that goes into this event is simply breathtaking!"

"You really know how to take a good thing and make it sound boring." Yang depressingly said.

"Quiet you!" Weiss admonished her they approached the docks.

"Remind me again," Yang voiced, "why we're spending our Friday afternoon visiting the stupid docks?"

"Ugh," Ruby exclaimed, "they smell like fish!", causing Blake to roll her eyes.

"I've heard," Weiss said to her, "that students visiting from Vacuo will be arriving by ship today. And, as a representativeof Beacon, I feel as though it is my solemn duty to welcome them to this fine kingdom!"

"She wants to spy on them," Blake added, "so she'll have the upper hand in the tournament." This caused Weiss to scoff.

"You can't prove that!"

Ruby stopped as, looking down the street, she saw a dust shop with broken windows, a police line, and police officers. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, and walked up to the tape to talk to one of the officers, "What happened here?"

"Robbery." the first detective said to her, "Second Dust shop to be hit this week. This place is turning into a jungle." At this, Blake looked away with disgust while Yang sighed.

"That's terrible."

"They left all the money again." the second detective added.

"Huh?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah," the first Detective asked, "just doesn't make a lick of sense. Who needs that much Dust?"

"I don't know, an army?" the second one asked.

"You thinking the White Fang?" the first detective asked.

"Yeah," the second one replied, "I'm thinking we don't get paid enough."

"Hmph! The White Fang." Weiss exclaimed, crossing her arms and pointing her nose in the air, "What an awful bunch of degenerates!"

"What's your problem?" Blake asked.

"My problem?" Weiss asked, "I simply don't care for the criminally insane."

"The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths." Blake stated "They're a collection of misguided Faunus."

"Misguided?" Weiss asked, "They want to wipe Humanity off the face of the planet!"

"So then they're very misguided." Blake exclaimed, "Either way, it doesn't explain why they would rob a Dust shop in the middle of downtown Vale!"

"Hmm... Blake's got a point." Ruby interjected, "Besides, the police never caught that Torchwick guy I ran into a few months ago... Maybe it was him."

"That still doesn't change the fact that the White Fang are a bunch of scum." Weiss exclaimed, "Those Faunus only know how to lie, cheat, and steal."

"That's... not necessarily true..." Yang voiced. 'oh, come on, Ice Queen.' she pleaded internally.

"Hey, stop that Faunus!" a man shouted.

RWBY rushed over to the boat, and Weiss sighed. "Stuff like this must make it tough to be a Faunus..."

"There are... far worse things..." Blake stated. "Have you seen how Humans treat... them?"

"Seeing this?," Weiss asked, "are you at all surprised?" and Blake looked down dejectedly.

* * *

Jaune knocked on RWBY's door, and got no reply.

"Maybe they are in town." Pyrrha said from behind him, and he shrugged.

* * *

JNPR opened their door and looked out as they heard shouting coming from RWBY's room.

"Uh... maybe we should just..." Jaune voiced, as he stepped back into their dorm room and closed the door.

* * *

They heard someone storm out of RWBY's room, and JNPR just looked at each other nervously.

* * *

Weiss tried to stand at attention as she looked out into the moonlight, and sighed. More than one secret hangs by a thread.

* * *

Jaune knocked on RWBY's door. Ruby opened the door, and saw NPR's heads sticking out of their room. "You guys alright?" Jaune asked, and Ruby sadly looked down.

"Weiss and Blake... had a bit of a..."

"Blowup." Yang said from inside the room.

"What about?" Jaune asked, and again, Ruby looked down, nervously. "Can I come in?.."

* * *

Jaune stood in the middle of RWBY's room, looking about. Yang was sitting on her bed, Weiss was laying on hers. "Okay, so... it turns out... Blake is with the White Fang..."

"The what?" Jaune asked.

"How could you possibly not know about those ruffians?" Weiss asked, "Those terrorists?" Jaune simply blunk at her in reply. "HOW COULD YOU?!.."

"EASY!" Yang shouted, and Weiss looked at the bed hanging above her. "The White Fang were a Faunus protest group... but something changed, and now they are starting all the fights."

"Do you have any idea what the White Fang have done to me?!" Weiss exclaimed. "To my family?!"

"But you..." Jaune said. He stopped as she looked at him starkly. "I think we need to talk." Weiss sadly nodded.

* * *

Jaune carefully worked his antlers into JNPR's dorm room. "Could we have the room?" he asked, and Nora stood up and saluted.

"We'll see you in the cafeteria." Pyrrha said with glee.

* * *

Jaune sat on his bed and gestured to Nora's. Weiss moved over and elegantly sat on Nora's bed, eyes still downcast. "Why... how does the White Fang have something against you?"

"Perhaps?.." Weiss nervously asked, "my father's... questionable... business choices..."

"But you are..." Jaune tried to say, but Weiss' look of anguish caused him to trail off.

"You swore you would not tell anyone about that." Weiss admonished him.

"I know... I mean... unless they already know about it... and you know about it... I mean..." he tried to say. "Are you saying... your family... discriminates against..." he then trailed off, gesturing to Weiss.

"Yes... well... they are... nothing but brutes and rapscallions..."

"And how does that work?" Jaune asked her.

"It... does not..." Weiss nervously replied, "If I do not have complete and utter control over my emotions, the colours of my plummage show themself..." She was nearly hyperventilating.

"You're safe here." Jaune stated, "I already know.

With this Weiss' breathing started to even out, and her plummage flushed dark blue... though... with hints of light...

"How can your father... do that to you?.." Jaune asked. "Make you deny such an important part of yourself."

"Quite simply, it seems." Weiss nervously, tersely, tensely replied, and then finally seemed to ease a bit, "Our entire lives we have been... heavily encouraged... to be good little scions of the house of Schnee... and nothing else..."

"I didn't know that Atlas had great houses?" Jaune asked.

"In truth, it does not." Weiss replied, "But that does not stop my father from having a talk with General Ironwood whenever he needs to. If you do not know, General Ironwood has two seats on the Atlas council. We do not have noble families, but we have families richer than nobles ever were, who effectively control the course of the kingdom from the shadows. The thing Father is most afraid of... is our house... falling..."

"And what do you want?" Jaune asked, and Weiss' eyes grew wide with shock. "Are you just going to let your father make you feel ashamed for existing? Seriously, if your father can't accept your for being a Faunus, why?.. just why?.."

"And just what, pray tell, do you expect me to do?" Weiss asked him.

"I don't know, accept that you are the beautiful Faunus I know you are?" Jaune asked. Weiss' dark blues largely turned to light. Her depression seemed to turn to hope. "You'll certainly have our support."

"And my family?.." Weiss asked, and Jaune simply shrugged.

"If they can't accept you?.." he said, and once again Weiss looked down.

* * *

"Look Weiss," Ruby quickly said, "it's not what you think, she explained the whole thing. See, she doesn't actually have a bow, she has kitty ears and they're actually kind of cute..."

Weiss simply ignored her, pushing her way past as she approached Blake, seated after her ordeal.

"Weiss," Blake quickly said to her, "I want you to know that I'm no longer associated with the White Fang. Back when I was with the-"

"Stop!" Weiss exclaimed, "Do you have any idea of how long we've been searching for you? - Twelve hours. That means I've had twelve hours to think about this. And in that twelve hours, I've decided..." Yang, Sun, and Ruby look on, worried. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" a surprised Blake asked.

"You said you are not one of them anymore," Weiss said to her, "right?"

"No, I-I haven't been since I was younger..." Blake tried to say, but Weiss quickly cut her off.

"Ah-bah-bah-bah-bah! I don't want to hear it. All I want to know is that the next time something this big comes up... you'll come to your teammates. And not some..." she said, and looked at Sun, "Someone else."

Blake looked between a grinning Ruby and Yang and wiped a tear from her eye, "Of course."

The four were having a wonderful moment until Ruby had to scream, "Yeah! Team RWBY is back together!"

Weiss pointed at Sun, "I'm still not quite sure about how I feel about you!"

Ruby looked around, "Hey, wait a minute... Where's Penny?"

Weiss breathed in deeply a few times before speaking. "There is something I must say to you."

Ruby, Blake, Yang and Sun all gathered around. Weiss used her glyph to launch Sun backwards, "Not you!"

Sun just shrugged in reply.

* * *

Ruby, Blake, and Yang all sat on their bed. Weiss stood in the centre, breathing deeply. "I guess I will just come out and say it... though you are all sworn to secrecy." Ruby, Blake, and Yang all nodded. "I... am a Faunus..."

Ruby's tail wagged eagerly.

"You're a WHAT?!" Blake exclaimed, and Weiss dropped her head.

"Blake!" Ruby admonished, and Blake looked down nervously.

"S... sorry..." Blake voiced, "But how does that make any sense?.."

"My father..." Weiss voiced, "is not exactly... a gentleman..."

"So?," Yang asked, "Dad's an asshole, but how this make you change colour?"

Blake glared at Yang through the bottom of her bed.

"If you must know?," Weiss asked, "I suppose, when stressed, your hair stands on it's end?"

"Uh, yeah?" Yang asked.

"For me," Weiss continued, "my plummage has colours..."

"Whatage?" Ruby asked.

"Her feathers." Blake stated, "Feathers?!"

"My plummage is light enough to be invisible." Weiss continued, "You are familiar with raven as a colour, correct?"

"Yeah?" Yang asked.

"It's through light refraction that gives it a blue hue." Weiss stated. "My feathers do the same. The higher the angle, the greater the refraction."

"So?" Ruby asked, "the more stressed out you are, the more blue you become?" and Weiss nodded.

"So, why the change of heart?" Yang asked, and Weiss developed a light blue hue, clutching her heart.

"Do I need a reason?" she asked.

"We - are - a - team!" Ruby exclaimed, and Blake shyly smiled and nodded.

"Unless anyone else has a deep confession they'd like to make?" Yang asked.

"I do... kind of... have a bit of a thing..." Ruby said, "for Jaune..."

"Good you can finally admit it." Yang stated, and Weiss' light blues darkened.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight ending

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