#Our Souls Reuniting Again and Again // What is it if Not Destiny My Love

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

ngl...it is kind of nice thinking of an f/o being fiercely protective of you. Keeping watch of you when you feel unsafe, glaring at people who make you feel uncomfortable. Saving you from people who put you in danger. Always checking up on whether your boundaries being met. Always listening to you setting those boundaries. And most importantly, you and them, in a comfortable spot, with them holding you in the most loving, tender, gentle way possible.

[sleepy-kitten-of-mine]

[nikibogwater]

Aight, y’all know the deal by now. I’m someone who takes stories way more seriously than I’m probably supposed to. I revel in a good emotional shake-down brought on by an epic tale. Time to put on my Sentimental Goggles and really dig into this latest Zelda game, and see if I can explain why I feel it has the darkest and hardest-hitting story of any in the series so far. TotK Spoilers begin below the cut. 

To start, we must acknowledge the precedent set by Breath of the Wild. BotW, despite being set in a post-apocalyptic wilderness teetering on the brink of destruction, is very much a story about hope. Zelda even says as much during the game’s opening: “You are the light--our light--that must shine upon Hyrule once again.” In the midst of a devastating catastrophe, one little seed of hope survived--Link. BotW follows this little seed as it at last blossoms into a force that is powerful enough to defeat the Calamity and put Hyrule back to rights. It’s a pretty straightforward and feel-good plot, even if it does have its fair share of bittersweet elements.

The thing that makes Tears of the Kingdom so effectively dark is that it begins by mercilessly ripping away that sense of hope that was a constant in its predecessor. Everything Link and Zelda fought for is undone in an instant. Hyrule is in even greater peril than before. This is no longer a tale of a budding seed of hope, it’s a frantic, desperate scramble to preserve what little remains of their world. 

Throughout much of this story, Link’s biggest motivation is reuniting with Zelda. While he serves as a light for Hyrule as a whole, Zelda has always been a light for him, and for us as the players. I don’t think it’s too much of a controversial statement to say that BotW’s iteration of Princess Zelda is the most well-developed in the series to date. Zelda has always been the heart and soul of the series, but this is especially true for BotW because she is no longer just Link’s partner in destiny or childhood friend. She is a fully-realized protagonist with a character arc that endears her to us as the players. She isn’t just important to Link, or to Hyrule at large. She’s important to us. Which is why I felt a legitimate sense of grief and despair when Link discovered that she couldn’t be rescued this time. No joke, there were a few minutes where I actually wanted to stop playing after seeing the final Dragon’s Tear memory. 

Breath of the Wild’s story is a statement of hope. By contrast, Tears of the Kingdom’s story is a question, one that most of us don’t want to even consider: What do you do when hope dies? What do you do when your light is taken away from you? The answer is perhaps as merciless as the question: you just keep going. Even if there is no Zelda waiting for you at the end of the fight (at least as far as Link knows), you still have a job to do. You still have to face the dark depths and the nightmares that dwell within. You still have to fight, even when it seems like there is no chance of winning. 

In this way, both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom feel like more than just games to me. They’re the kind of story that I carry with me into the real world. The kind that I look back on when I need to feel hopeful, or push through my own dark depths. Sure, it’s not a masterpiece of literature or anything, but it was a story that resonated with me all the same, thanks in no small part to TotK’s commitment to embracing the dark and the hopeless. There are times when it is enough to be reminded that I am strong, that I am capable of overcoming any challenge set before me. But when that challenge is no longer a puzzle or a personal flaw--when it’s say, grieving the loss of a loved one or longing to return to a happier time, it is just as comforting to be told, with brutal honesty, that yes, this feels hopeless. This feels like it could never possibly turn out alright in the end. But you must keep going. You must fight until you find your hope again, even if it can’t be the same as it was before. After all, that is what it means to be the light--their light--that must shine upon the world once again. 

[dasenergi-diary]

Good morning, friends.

So what I wanted to talk about the other night—

I suffer from a problem I call “magical thinking.”

Here’s what happened:

[Sex talk below the cut.]

After dinner we went back to his apartment and I was giving him birthday sex.

We broke-up last March (after 3 years together) and in the 8 months since, neither of us have been with anyone else.

I felt out of practice. Once upon a time I was one of those who would have competitive sex, not casual sex. I would have marathon sex. Olympic sex. But those days are gone. I am retired from sex life.

But once I got out of my head and let my intuition take over, my body remembered how to work him like an instrument and make him sing. It was very hot. Both of us were very aroused. And we were both ready to take it to the next level.

But just as I was starting to top him, an idea popped into my head...

Background information - I exist in the spirit world. Everything to me is energy. I have a very tenuous grasp on "agreed upon" reality. Constantly half of me exists in the "real" world and the other half is in the "spirit" world.

This is exactly why I do NOT use plant medicines (marijuana & mushrooms) - when I do, I am 100% in the spirit world. And I lose ALL grasp on reality. And that is not a fun or safe space for me.

...when I started to top him, I slipped into the spirit world. (Without any plant medicines.)

What I saw was, if I top him I will die.

If you all remember my mushroom incident from July 26 (the day Sinead O'Connor died), this is a running theme of mine -- thinking I'm dying. And although I am not afraid to die, it is NOT my time, my kids still need me. And when I think that I am dying (or that I am already dead) I begin to have a panic attack.

And that's what happened when we were having sex, I started to have a panic attack. My pulse was racing. I began hyper-ventilating.

To this date he still doesn't know that I started to have a panic attack while making love to him. I am proud of how well I covered for it. Luckily hyper-ventilating sounds a lot like sex. I was still 100% invested in giving him great birthday sex. And if he knew what I was going through internally, that would kill the mood. I was not going to ruin his birthday. I drove all the way out to Palm Springs to do this to him. (Otherwise he would have been all alone on his birthday.)

I simply stopped topping him and began doing other things to him that he enjoys and I ultimately gave him an earth shattering birthday sex biting a pillow orgasm.

Dave - why did you think you were going to die?

An invisible small thin silver thread connects people together. It is the flow of energy between two people.

A fire hydrant flowing full-blast connects Michael and I. It is big and loud and multi-colored like a rainbow. I have physically seen it a few times. But I can feel the connection, always. Distance does not matter.

Sex is about returning to source. Two souls become one. And in that moment I felt that all my life, everything has been leading up to this moment—if I enter him, if our two souls become one, if our souls are reunited, I will die. This was my destiny. Reunification. A return to source. My life’s journey complete. I will cease to exist in the "real" world. The "real" world is only an illusion. The REAL real world is Spirit World. That is where we are immortal. That is where we are all One. That is where a part of me always exists, conscious in the spirit world.

And now I don't think I can ever have intercourse with him again. This idea will always be in my head. Sure, I can do other things to sexually pleasure him. But not that.

Anyhow... the 24 hours after that incident I was in my head a lot about this. But now with time and distance I am understanding it more. And I really don't see him very often anymore, just every couple of months. We are broken up, only friends. I don't see myself in a committed relationship with him again in this lifetime. But it is nice to play with him every now and then. No one else feels as good as he does when we become one. We are both into the same thing. Our parts fit.

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

Listen up, I have an important message for you. Whatever you do, DON’T imagine your f/o dripping wet. Hey. HEY! What did I just say? Don’t imagine their hair dropped down, sticking to the side of their face, with little water droplets falling off every so often.

[allxthingsxglxtter]

@lcnelylcves

It certainly was true that Achilles had been distracted; he hadn’t lost any of his fights yet, he had a reputation. He was a champion in these games. But none of that mattered now. He was reunited with the other half of his heart, what could be more important than that? “You’re here now.” That grief, the horror and pain of losing Patroclus, he didn’t think he could ever forget it. Achilles had found out just what it took to break him, and that wasn’t knowledge that could be erased from his soul. But right now, he could believe everything would be okay. All because he could be with the man he loved. No one here would care, no one could stop them. He could care for Patroclus openly. Not that he’d accept secrecy again even if they had to. Achilles would have found a way to keep Patroclus by his side, no matter the risks. So long as he could protect him. “We’ve lived and died our destinies. Our lives belong to us now. I belong to you.” He smiled more than he had since remembering the other man. “I love you and I’ll never let you leave again.”

Patroclus smiled softly at how easy Achilles made things. He was here now. They were together, and Patroclus would do everything in his power to ensured it stayed that way for the rest of their days and beyond. He knew Achilles would do the same, and above all he hoped they'd be allowed peace. That Achilles' legend was enough for him, and they could live as if they'd never left Chiron's mountain after all.

He returned the other man's smile easily, feeling fuller and so much more than he had in the past few months since he'd remembered. "And I to you Achilles. You are everything, and I honestly would like nothing more than spending the rest of my days at your side. I will never leave you willingly, I swear. And I'm yours, as I always have been. " Patroclus took Achilles' hand in his and just held it, revelling in the fact they could be so openly familiar with one another. "I adore you, and every part of you."

[my-heart-is-but-a-gentle-moon]

Imagine slow dancing with your love under the moonlit night.

Vintage jazz playing all around you.

Shhh..The world is quiet apart from your lover’s and your humming along to the music.

You’re swirling and twirling, joy sparkling in your eyes.

Could it be any more perfect?

You lean in for a kiss

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

[pinksirensong]

LOVE OF THE ENDLESS (II)

many thousands of years after…

 As Love of the Endless Y/N should’ve know how to deal better with a heartbreak, but for many years all she could do was cry and feel sorry for herself. Morpheus did marry Calliope and they even had a son, but that didn’t end well. She would never have the guts to tell him that it wouldn’t work, it couldn’t work because he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. That was how the threads worked, they connected souls in a way that no one could mess with. Morpheus was right about one thing, it was the last time, because even with all the knowledge she refused to be his dirty little secret any longer. When he called her, a few years after his loss, she refused to show up at his realm and afraid that he might come to her Love decided to close her kingdom to all outsiders. No other Endless would ever be allowed at Akai Ito again and she could finally be at peace and move on. If mortals could have many lovers and be happy without their other half, why couldn’t she? He was her brother, and she might not see him this way but for their family they were brother and sister so now her mind would made peace with this. Now, holding Destiny’s sigil, the only left at her gallery, she called for him.

- Destiny, my dear twin, I hold your sigil and ask for permission to come to your realm. – if there was someone who understood her pain it was Destiny, she shared everything with him, and he too was sad to not being able to help her end the thread. Y/N had his help in taking all of her sigils out of their sibling’s galleries and destroying the ones in her possession, all but his for she could never be away from her twin. Isolating herself from her family wasn’t hard, the Endless weren’t exactly close to each other.

- You are always welcome at my realm, sister. – after his response she used her powers to go to him.

- Brother, I am afraid this is not a social visit. Although you must know the reason before I even called you.

- Indeed, I do.

- Where is he?

- Captured by the laws of magic, there is nothing I can do for him.

- But I can so please tell me how I can find him. I shall see how to do the rest on my own.

- Sister…

- All this time I tangled up my thread with Morpheus, kept myself away from him. Yet all I can feel is his pain and despair, I can feel how lonely he is and it is hurting me. Please, my twin, help me. I shall not stay by his side once it is over, my mind is set in moving forward with my life.

- There is not much I can tell you, you and I both know it is already written, just like you and him. No matter what the rest of our siblings think of it, you are both fated to each other, and your thread is the proof of that. I hoped that by now you would understand it and accept, I thought Dream would be the stubborn one. – a rare but genuine smile graced his features. – Your thread connects you and Dream, he is at the end of it. That is all I can tell you, dear twin. – something clicked at her mind, now she knew what to do to find him.

- I understand now, thank you. Know that, unlike the others, you are always welcome at my realm. I love you, brother, but I must go now. – with that she made her way to the waking world. Threads were easy for her, usually she used to only untangle them to help lovers find the other faster. There were four colours they could be, usually were red that meaned the connection between soulmates, but that turned gold once the bond was consecrated and white when one of them died. The last colour was black, very rare to see one, but it was true that there was a fine line between love and hate. Now all she needed to do was focus on her thread, hold the part that was linked to her and follow it to Dream.

………………………………………………………………………………

Love of the Endless always had a white dove by her side, they were made by the soul of a lover that refused to follow into the unknow without their other half. Until the day both souls were reunited that dove would be serving Love of the Endless. Unlike Dream’s raven, her friendship with them always had an expiration date, they would eventually leave her and move on, and she was happy with it.

- Luna, my loyal friend, I require your assistance in finding Dream of the Endless raven. Her name is Jessamy, and she must be around this place. – the end of her thread took her to Fawny Rig, a place impregnated with darkness that didn’t allow her to get too close. “I shall bring her to you, sire.”, Lune replied on her head. She didn’t have to wait long for Luna brought to her Jessamy. – Hello, dear Jessamy. I am here to seek Dream of Endless, is it truth that he is being imprisoned here?

- My lady, I’m afraid it is true. A man named Roderick Burgess is the one doing it.

- Can you get inside or does their twisted magic keep you away too?

- I can and did it but have yet to found exactly where my master is.

- Luna will help you with your quest, you two must find Dream. We need to free him. The waking world needs him. – I need him, she wanted to say, but at the end she denied herself the right to want and need Morpheus. For days they did surveillance around the manor while Y/N tried to get close enough to see a thread and use for her advantage. Days turned to weeks and months, Y/N had to leave sometimes to attend business at her realm and the waking world, they were without Dream and couldn’t be without Love as well. She held hope close by her heart, she would do anything to get him back. Even after months became years and decades, she didn’t stop having hope, her heart could never do it. Unfortunately, things got even harder, they made a plan to distract the guards and free Morpheus, but it backfired and both Jessamy and Luna died. Y/N was devastated, she couldn’t even say goodbye to her friend and wait with her for Death. Still, Love had to held hope and focus so they wouldn’t be gone for nothing. Everything changed the day she finally found a thread, one that connected two males that resided there: Alex and Paul. From that day on she used as much as she could of her power on their thread, trying to influence them to free Dream, but not being able to be close enough to actually hold it and use it all her will it wasn’t enough. Soon they began to grow old and not very careful, not enough to tear down the power that did not allow her to get inside, but sufficient for her to actually interact with Paul. That day changed everything.

- Oh, dear. I am so sorry. – Paul said, she had purposely bumped into him at the market. – Are you hurt?

- No, no. I am fine, sir. – she let out a sigh. – It was my fault, I am distracted. So sorry, kind sir.

- There is no need for that. Are you okay?

- Just missing someone. It is extremally hard to be away from the people that you love.

- I am deeply sorry for you, miss. Afraid I must leave now, my husband is waiting for me. Wish you all the happiness and that your loved one returns to you safe and sound. – and with that he left, Y/N didn’t need to follow him for she now could hold his thread. Slowly and carefully, she walked the path towards the manor, holding tight the thread. “Free him. Free him. Free him. Paul McGuire, today you will free Dream of the Endless”, she ordered the thread. He couldn’t ignore her and her power, this was her domain. Y/N didn’t need to be told it worked, because that night she felt the pull and her heart skipped a beat when Love of the Endless finally felt a warm and loving wave coming from him towards her. Dream of the Endless was finally free and now she could finally disappear once again.

..........................................................................................

tag list: @the-ruler-of-death @mrs-captainsteverogers @jesllianaquilesrolon @igotanidea @intothesoul @hedwigprewett12 @queenshelby @mattmurdockmylove @boofy1998

[my-heart-is-but-a-gentle-moon]

I want you back, Love.

Please don’t tell me no.

Can’t you see? I need you! What is it that’s so hard to understand?!

I know. I know you see Hue now, but what about me? Your Juju Bear? Remember?

God, I don’t even know if you’re listening. I love you. I love you so much it’s driving me crazy. Just. Call me, all right? *Hic-c-*

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

MY FAVORITE SHIP DYNAMICS~!

Or some of them at least ^ ^; Did the ship dynamics meme going around on twitter!

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

[rnm-magic-space-xsd]

[elvish-sky]

Hope {Aragorn x Reader}

A.N: So no prompts done today cause I was working on this, but I’m proud of it and will get right on prompts tomorrow! This is the completely reader-insert version! I honestly had so much fun writing it and am honored that this person wanted me to do so. I hope y’all like it!

Requested by @ask-the-elf-stuff on Tumblr

Pairing: Aragorn x Reader

Word Count: 1,799

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, the smallest bit of angst.

****

Hope

“You’re really leaving?” You gazed into Aragorn’s eyes, hoping that it wasn’t true.

    “I have to, Y/N. The fate of Middle-Earth depends on it.”

Your head dipped in understanding, but also sadness. 

“Do not fear. I will return.” He cupped your chin with his hand, tilting your head and kissing you. It was a light kiss, nothing like the others you had shared before. This kiss was the hope that you’d see each other again.

Breaking away, you forced a smile as you hugged him, trying not to cry. Stepping back, you waved as he followed the rest of the newly formed Fellowship through the gates of Imladris. Your father stood next to you, and as Aragorn passed through the gates Elrond drew you into his side. 

“He’ll be back, hína (child),” Elrond said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you rested your head on your father’s shoulder as you watched the man depart.

Weeks later, you were pacing your room, determined to do something. Arwen stopped short in the doorway as she saw you pack open on your bed as you shoved things inside.

     “Y/N? What are you doing?”

“I do not know why, but I have felt a pull to follow. An ache, almost painful in its strength, has settled inside me and so I knew I must follow. We have not heard from the Fellowship in weeks, Aragorn could be hurt, or someone else could be, or he could be,” your voice broke, “dead.

The elf nodded in understanding. “The ache is telling you to be with the one you love.”

She then clasped your hand. “Y/N. Look at me.”

You looked at her, unshed tears of worry clear in your eyes.

“If he was dead, you’d feel it. And I know as your sister I should be telling you not to go, but I cannot help but notice the pain you’ve been in these last weeks. So go, find him.” She spread a map out onto a small table nearby, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you just carry that everywhere?”

She shot you a look, and you quickly clammed up, peering over her shoulder as she pointed things out. 

“After crossing the mountains visit our grandmother in Lothlorien, the Fellowship had planned to pass through there, and she will know where they are.” 

You took it all in, remembering the route to Lothlorien from visits to your grandparents you had made before your mother went west. 

“Thank you, Arwen.” You smiled up at your sister.

She clasped your wrist before pulling away, placing her hands on your shoulders as she looked into your eyes. “Stay safe, Y/N.”

You nodded, shoving the last things into your pack before slinging it over your shoulders with your bow and quiver, daggers sheathed on your thighs, hugging your sister one last time before leaving your room.

   You strode down the hallway, dressed in leather hunting clothes as you made your way to the gates of Imladris. You had stopped by the kitchens to gather food supplies, making sure they thought you were only going for a hunting excursion. 

Entering the courtyard, you saw your father standing in the center, clearly waiting for you. Silently cursing Arwen, as you had hoped to slip away unnoticed, you made your way over to him.

“I should not let you do this.”

You frowned at his words, drawing breath to protest, but before you could Elrond spoke again.

“But you are free to go. I feel the ache and have felt it every day since your mother departed. I know that nothing but being with the one you love can ease that pain, and it would hurt me to know you are experiencing it. Go to Estel. I give you my blessing.” 

You hugged your father before turning and mounting your horse, brought from the stables. Turning to wave to your father one last time, you leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go, Daeroc. Let’s go find Aragorn.” The horse broke into a trot, and you left Imladris behind.

Weeks later, you led Daeroc into Lothlorien, waiting for the sentries to appear. One dropped down from a tree, and you smiled at him, recognizing the face.

“Haldir,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Y/N. It is good to see you again. I assume you are here to see the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?”

You nodded, “Yes. I have not seen my grandparents in a long time. But before we go to them could you find someone to take care of Daeroc?”

Another elf came into view, nodding to you as she took the reins from your hands. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her.

Later, you walked into the courtyard, bowing to your grandparents standing on the stairs above. 

“Y/N, my daughter’s daughter. What brings you here?” Galadriel smiled at you, descending the stairs with her husband to greet you, each clasping your wrist. 

“To see you, of course, and seek news of the Fellowship that I assume has passed through here.” 

Your grandmother smiled. “It seems you are in luck, for they are here as we speak.”

Your eyes widened. “But they should have been long gone by now. I wonder what has caused the delay?”

Celeborn’s face softened. “Then you do not know.”

“Know what?” You were beginning to grow quite worried. “What has happened?”

“They could not make it through the pass of Caradhras, so they turned and went through Moria, costing them the life of Mithrandir.”

You gasped, heart aching at the grief that must have caused them and the grief you now felt. 

“May I see them?” All you wanted now was to see your friends and the man you loved.

“Of course.” Galadriel beckoned you to follow her, and you did, softly conversing with your grandmother and updating her on the lives of her family in Imladris, as well as others she knew.

Stepping into the clearing, you turned to thank Galadriel, watching her fade from view behind you for a moment before continuing. 

There he was. Tall and handsome still, even grimy with dirt and dust from his travels. You debated casually walking up and greeting him more sedately, but watching him you just couldn’t hold back. All your elvish instincts left you, and you sprinted towards him, leaping into his shocked arms as kissing him for all you were worth. He kissed you back for a moment, and then pulled away, the surprise on his face clear.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

His eyes widened. “You did?”

You smiled at him. “Of course I did, meleth.”

He smiled back at you, and drew you in for another kiss, hands holding you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. Deepening the kiss, he moved so your back was pressed against a tree and his hands were free to slide up your back, tangling in your hair as you lost yourselves in each other.

Sometime later, you sat with the rest of the Fellowship after the nighttime meal, talking. It was good to see them again, you had grown fond of all of them, even the dwarf, during their time in Imladris. But of course, the only person you really had eyes for that night was Aragorn, who sat next to you with an arm around your shoulders. 

Legolas had seemed puzzled with how comfortable you were with affection, it was rather un elf-like. You had explained to him that because of your father’s past, he was slightly more affectionate than a normal elf, and showed it. You hadn’t missed the wistful look on Legolas’ face as you spoke and recalled what you knew of his family, feeling sorry for him. 

Later that night, you sat by the dying embers of the fire alongside Legolas. Aragorn had gone with the hobbits to wash up, and Boromir and Gimli were sleeping, so it was just you and the elf.

“Legolas?” The older elf looked at you. 

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, and you continued, “I was just wondering, do you know of something like an ache? It began right after the Fellowship departed Imladris, and only subsided when I arrived here. What does it mean?”

He smiled. “Y/N. That was the bond between your soul and Aragorn’s, pulled taught with your fear of losing him. Now that you are reunited, it has gone because you are together. It is every elf’s greatest dream and worst fear to have that feeling.”

You smiled. “Have you?”

The pain in his eyes told you that maybe that was not something to be asked of others.

“I am not sure if it is in my destiny to ever feel that.” He gazed into the distance.

The two of you sat in easy silence for a long time, after that. 

“Y/N.” You turned to see Aragorn beckoning to you, and with a nod to Legolas, you rose.

“You do not have to come with us. It will be a journey of great peril, and I do not want to put you in that much danger.”

You gazed at him earnestly, “Aragorn. I shall be there when the crown is finally placed on your head. I shall be with you until the end.”

He smiled at you again and clasped your hand as you walked through the towering trees.

You had left Lothlorien the day after with the Fellowship, having officially joined up. Lots had happened after that, including almost dying with most of Middle-Earth, but months later, all was finally well. Frodo and Sam had destroyed the ring in Mordor, the forces of Mordor had collapsed along with the Black Gate, and today was the coronation of King Elessar, also known as Aragorn. 

You watched, standing next to Gimli on the dais, as Gandalf lowered the crown onto Aragorn’s head.

“Now come the days of the King!” Gandalf declared before Aragorn turned to face his kingdom. Everyone cheered as he stood there, silencing quickly as he spoke. His words were wise and sincere, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. As petals began to fall, he started singing, the words quickly fading as he turned to you. 

You walked down to meet him at the bottom of the steps, gown trailing behind you. Once you reached him, he grabbed your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist as he dipped you into a spectacular kiss. Unlike the one you had shared in Imladris, this was not a kiss of sadness. This was a kiss of hope, peace, and promise. As the cheers rose around you again you knew that everything you had hoped for had come true.

Everything tag: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @wellofeternalthirst @kumqu4t @katbby16

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 11- At Last

Summary: Finally reunited with Geralt, the two of you attempt to avoid Nilfgaard and find a tavern for the evening, although it appears destiny has other plans.

Warning: angst, fluff

 Masterlist

-last and final chapter my Witcher friends, that is until next season, and yes I will be continuing reader and Geralt’s story. There’ll be more monster slaying and adventures to come!

Within minutes after reuniting with your silver haired lover, did the two of you immediately find a spot elsewhere from the main trail for well...you know. A place hidden away from any unwanted prying eyes so that you both could show one another just how much you've desperately missed each other, in more ways then one. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so euphoric, perhaps that's just what making sweet love to your Witcher does to you. Even when he's pounding you against a tree while whispering the most dirtiest of sweet nothings into your ear.

You hadn't touched him like this in weeks, nor seen him for that matter, but he felt wonderful and seemed to be enjoying his time with you just the same. Though all too soon would your bodies have to part from one another's close embrace. All to your utter disappointment did the two of you end your hasty love making session, seeing as the land is closely crawling with Nilfgaard soldiers and who knows what else.

You got what you could get, and anyways, that won't be the first nor last time you two fuck in the woods.

The grass feels soft against your clothed bottom as you lace up your boot, your gaze set to the individual across from you as your eyes unbashfuly admire Geralt while he lays in the grass shirtless. His beautiful golden irises staring up into the tree tops as the wind sways the leaves every which way.

You pull at the leather strings, tying a confident knot with skilled hands while a small breeze blows your hair back, you're admittedly feeling quite delightful if you're being honest. Though when your crimson eyes glance up at the snowy haired man again, he's turned his head to you.

Your eyes meet at once, sending a blissful smirk upon your lips, "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" You teased, narrowing your eyes in a playful manner.

Geralt's lips curl into a half smile as he lets out a small hum in reply. Setting your arms upon your propped up knees, you freely show him an eye roll. Earning a proper chuckle from the man, "Y/N I was simply cherishing your stunning appearance."

Shaking your head you smile, "Yes, of course you were. And I am simply looking at a shirtless man with the most utter respect and clean of thoughts in my mind." You casually shrug, "Nothing else going on in here, I promise."

Geralt raises a greyish brow, moving to prop himself up upon his elbow, "That sounds honest." He hums, "But you are no virtuous maiden my love, and by that telling look on your face only moments ago. I can only imagine what things you may have been thinking of then."

You let out a snort before deciding to crawl over to him, where he lets you push him back into the grass, "Indeed I am not." You whisper close, leaning on an elbow as your other hand caresses his cheek, "But I am undoubtedly in love with a Witcher of all creatures to walk this earth, so if we're using our heads, what does that truly say of me then?"

His golden eyes keep to yours as he brings a hand to rest over your arm, "I would say it means perhaps I am a fool to fall for one of my enemies' creations, my dear Y/N..." He pauses for a moment, taking this brief second to focus on you and only you as he holds you with the most care, "you are most cunning and beautiful."

Leaning into his small touch you grin blissfully, a feeling of ease and calmness setting over you as Geralt studies your face, "You are no fool my White Wolf. That I am sure of without a doubt in my mind, I can't seem to be able to even jest about it." You chuckle, "Though you tempt me at times." The smile that he gives you is the most precious thing your eyes could ever be blessed with, its warm and genuine, filled with the deepest and most purest of love for you. His lady of night, the one monster he could never slay, nor would he ever dare.

Though your heart fills with joy for him, a sudden sadness seeps into your soul, obstructing your happiness. Your eyes fall downcast as you move to lay yourself next to Geralt in the grass, he follows you closely, a frown displaying itself upon his handsome features at your sudden spurt of melancholy.

"What troubles you Y/N?" Wonders Geralt, shifting his body so that he can rest an arm over your chest, pulling you in close as he studies your face.

Resting a hand on Geralt's muscular arm, you frown once again, "I was brief about my short time in Aretuza and the Elven keep, I know I told you about all those bastard soldiers I killed and when I helped the mages the best I could.....it's just. I haven't told you everything." Your voice feels so small in the large forest, now since you think about it. You haven't had the time to completely process what happened at Sodden's Hill, with all those soldiers, the other mages, and especially Yennefer.

So much death.

His brow furrows in thought, unsure of what you're going to reveal next, all he knows is that he doesn't plan on letting you go for awhile longer. Your Witcher hums in reply, giving you a moment to find your words. Taking a deep heavy sigh you turn your head to look out at the clouds. "We tried to protect the North from Nilfgaard, those fuckers had their own spout of powerful mages to test against our own. For the whole day we all fought together...every man, woman, child, and mage. Fucking farmers and tired refugees, they weren't warriors, Geralt. None of them were."

You take another shaky breath as Geralt presses his head against your cheek, "I did what I could to save them. But I'm just one person, I couldn't save them all....though I must admit, those people fought braver then most royal soldiers I've ever seen. They have good heart in them....well, I guess did. Not many survivors I think, just the ones who had enough sense to get the fuck out of there.....and of course myself, Tissaia, Triss, and Yenn..." A small lump forms in your throat as you remember what happened, causing you to choke on your own words for a moment.

You bite your lip hard, your hand squeezing tightly onto Geralt's muscular forearm as you collect yourself enough to speak, though your voice is raspy and broken, "Yennefer, right. She fought valiantly like a true warrior, she was like a phoenix, like a raging mighty dragon of power and flame...Geralt you should have seen her." A tear falls down the side of your face as you smile into the cloud covered sun, your voice above a whisper, "I'd never seen anything like it....it was.....beautiful."

A light kiss is placed gently over your tear streak while his hand moves to find yours, "What I would have given to see you slay those dogs alongside Yennefer, Y/N. I'm sure she is proud to call you a friend."

"She's dead." Those two words leave your lips so quietly that Geralt almost doesn't catch them, but he does.

The heavy weight of this news takes him off guard, he did not expect you to just lay such tragic tidings over him like that, he may have been greatly annoyed by Yennefer but he did see that stubborn mage as a friend. Though his heart hurts for how broken and defeated you feel from the terrors you'd underwent only yesterday, the great loss you've experienced, all of your traumas crashing down atop your soul in this moment. He wants to comfort you the best he can.

He listens to the steady beating of your heart, understanding how sad yet angry you're feeling, "I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am."

A tired smile forms at the corners of your lips as you turn teary eyes over to your Witcher, your faces mere inches from one another, "She was my first real friend you know, and I think I was hers. I'm grateful to have spent the last of her hours on this earth by her side then.....glad she wasn't alone. I just wish..." Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus on Geralt's shimmering irises once again, "I just wish the world wouldn't take everyone I give a shit about, so don't plan on doing anything stupid, okay? I can't lose anyone else or so help me god or whoever is listening out there, I will slaughter the bastards who dare take you away from me."

"I do not doubt it my love, and don't worry Y/N. I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon." He speaks honestly before pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "You have my word."

——

Geralt holds tightly to Roach's leather reigns as he keeps a firm hand over your lower abdomen, a small content smile gracing over your features while you sit comfortably in front of him on the large mare. Just as you always have.

Your hands rest over his as you keep a steady lookout over the trail ahead, silently overjoyed to be leaning against Geralt and all of his godly body holding you up. A blissfully drunken grin keeps to your face while your mind tumbles and reels with everything that he's just confided about from the last four weeks, like what you'd done earlier after a fine quick session of love making.

Apparently he's been busy.

Though for the second time today, another troubling thought randomly pops into your mind as things tend to do, and now you feel this time is as good as ever to actually address it. Squeezing his arm a bit you let out a half amused huff, showing that you're about to speak your mind on something idiotic Geralt has done, and he knows it.

Your Witcher figured you'd eventually spill your two cents, as you always seem to do.

"So." You begin, slow and filled with something Geralt's not quite sure of, he mentally cringes as you squeeze his arm again, "you just told him to fuck off and that you'd prefer to never see him ever again? Just like that? To our bard. Jaskier."

Geralt pauses for a moment as you wait for an answer, "Yes." Is all he whispers, low and filled with regret. He told you all about Jaskier and himself hours ago, hoping you wouldn't bring it back up, but of course you would. He's never that lucky, there's nothing you don't ever catch.

You raise a brow and shrug, "Can't say I blame you. That idiot has gotten our asses in a lot of shit over the years." He lets out a breath, glad you're not fuming at his heated rash actions on the mountainside after you dramatically parted ways. Suddenly you grip his arm tight, enough to actually feel uncomfortable, he sucks in a breath as you squeeze, "Although, I don't believe Jaskier completely deserved that." You seethe through clenched teeth before letting go of your iron grip. So you are angry after all, thinks Geralt, funny way of showing it.

"I know....I was just....I'm sorry Y/N." He replies, his voice much softer then he'd intended.

Your face falls as you feel the hurt in his words for what he's done, "I know Geralt." You sigh, "Enough with the sorry's and regrets okay....what's done is done and there's nothing we can do about it now. And anyways, as I like to say "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so don't feel shitty about it now." He gives you a hidden smile as you chuckle to yourself, "You can feel shitty about it later."

Geralt lets out an amused snort, "Always one for wise words Y/N. What would I do without your kind intellect?"

"Dunno." You casually shrug, "Be a far less intriguing creature I suppose."

He tenderly kisses the top of your head, "I'd be a fool to argue against that logic."

"You're still a fool either way." You jest, cackling at your friendly jab at him, earning a gentle squeeze on your hip that sends butterflies into your stomach.

Gods the things he does to you.

For a couple more hours would you both ride Roach down the trail, past countless trees and a few streams until the sun would begin her descent over the land. Through this time you've been admittedly back to your old habits of amusing your Witcher to pass the time, mixed with seeing how long it would take to annoy him before he threatened to kick you off the mare.

It had been quite the eventful stretch of time before you caught the nasty pheromones of war seeping throughout the forest from some place close by, but not seen by your skilled eyes just yet. You held your tongue, not wanting to worry Geralt over something as insignificant as rotting corpses in the woods. But as Roach gets closer and closer, you begin to feel more strange, your scarlet irises suddenly catch a ripped tent behind a few trees.

Nilfgaard. Smell of death, more destroyed tents. Those bastards did this.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, the scent of freshly decaying corpses overloading your senses just about making your eyes water, you can't smell anything else but the stench of death.

"What I would give to be in a flower meadow right now." You seethe, blinking away the reactive tears in your eyes, Geralt looks down to you, unsure of what you mean considering his sense of smell is not nearly as prominent as yours. "I think Nilfgaard found a camp just over there, gods it reaks."

His grey brows furrow in thought, though he's left his words in the back of his throat as Roach walks closer to the carnage. Suddenly the three of you are face to face with an older man and his horse cart as he desperately and stupidly does his best to move the dead in piles for whatever it is that he's intended for them.

What a strange man.

Geralt shifts from behind you, tilting his head at the bearded man, "Ill winds follow grave robbers." States your Witcher as he hugs you closer protectively, or perhaps to keep you from doing anything destructive. The greyed man looks to the two of you, quietly acknowledging your existence before turning around to continue his doings.

"If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, Butcher." He adds gruffly, squatting down to examine another slain body, "So best keep your beast with you." He adds, side eyeing you cautiously as he goes to move another of the deceased. Well, he knows Geralt's a Witcher and that you're not human. Maybe he's not that idiotic?

Geralt smirks, "If I was to let her satiate her appetite, you'd be amongst the corpses." The man falls silent, looking wearily between the two of you as your scarlet eyes trail over the nervous man.

He lets out a sigh, finally breaking under both your hard gazes, "I was goin' home to my family when I came upon these poor souls." He points towards the rotting bodies, "Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now they're a feast for the crows."

"They're not for crows." You implore, shifting your ruby irises across the shadowy wood line while you listen to the buzzing of feasting flies. You had previously forgotten about what else may lurk in the shadows ready to feed, until now.

"Wolves?" He wonders.

"No."

Shaking his head, he ignores your odd wary vigilance, turning to glance at the two of you, "With more hands I could move quicker."

Yeah, fuck that.

"The only thing you should do quickly is flee." Warns Geralt, alert to the same understanding of what creatures may be hiding close by. The strange man grunts as he drags a body over the leaves, ignorantly discounting both your warnings.

With a click of his tongue, Geralt pulls at the mares reigns, "Come on, Roach, back to Kaer Morhen." You shake your head at the man as Roach begins to take a couple steps forward.

"Don't leave!" Pleads the bearded man, while dragging another, "Look at these people. Innocent people, killed for what?" He exclaims, sucking in labored breaths as he stands to look out over the mass of dead refugees, "So Nilfgaard can have more land? We owe it to 'em to do better."

"I'm not better." Mutters Geralt as he directs Roach away.

Always so dramatic huh.

You don't make it even three feet before your sensitive ears prick at the sound of crawling under the dirt. You know exactly what's now hunting the man, without a second thought do you break from Geralt's muscular arms to jump off of Roach.

Your feet move inhumanly fast as you race for the panicked man who's now scrambling away on the forest floor as two hungry ghouls claw for a taste. Realizing all too late that your silver dagger is lost to the ages you quickly adapt to instead aim for electrocuting the ugly fuckers.

Your palms spread wide as white hot lightening crackles and sparks in the misty night air, piercing the grotesque bodies of the living undead.

They screech in pain, giving Geralt just enough time to cut them down before they're able to recover, the man stops whimpering in fear as he turns his head up to you and Geralt. Who's now crouched a couple feet from the wide eyed man while he cleans off his sword, his eyes now two pools of glistening obsidian.

Sparks crackle in your palms as you huff in annoyance, "Go home." Your voice strong and steady.

The man snaps his attention over to you, "I can help." He insists urgently, causing you to roll your crimson eyes.

"One bite will kill you." Implores Geralt sternly.

The man turns to him, "Or you two." Then back to you again, his eyes fretful as you notice how he's just about shaking. He's terrified.

You let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm immune." You conclude gruffly, pointing to both himself and Geralt, "But not you two, so if you want to see your wife again...go home." The man stays still, breathing heavily as he sits on the soft ground, his mind swirling.

Geralt slowly stands, glaring at the man, "Go...home!" He snaps in that gravely voice of his, the petrified man stares at him before looking to your equally as stoic face. The blood red glow of your irises and the low crackling of lighting in your palm shifting his mind to a new understanding of his current situation.

He lets out a shaky breath, "All right..." Huffs the bearded man before scrambling to his feet, his boots carrying him over to his cart as he throws something into the back.

You ignore him and watch as Geralt walks slowly forward, his black eyes cautiously surveying over the land as you take a step, "Let me be the first to say, but I don't happen to feel very fond of what else follows." You whisper softly, your voice laced with concern as you sniff the foggy damp air, smelling nothing but decaying flesh as it wafts into your nostrils.

Geralt holds his weapon tightly, opening his mouth to answer, but before he's able to say anything a piercing screech breaks out from the woods. His sword flashes in the moonlight as he cuts down another hungry ghoul. Without warning another one breaks out of the earth to his right, dead in a flash as he slashes it across the throat.

The dirt bulges upward as another crawls from underneath the ground, heading directly for Geralt, the beast doesn't stand a chance as your Witcher stabs the soil directly in front of him. Killing the damn ghoul in an instant. Suddenly a black screaming flash races past you and tackles him to the ground.

"Oh fuck!" Unknowingly leaves you lips as you race to his aid, five of them have him pinned to the ground already as you pull his silver sword from the earth that he had left behind in the scuffle. These starving bastards don't see you coming as you begin slashing and hacking violently away at the ghouls. Trying your damn best to get them off of Geralt, they scream in agony as you end their half-lives.

More race out from the shadows to surround the two of you, Geralt pushes and punches more off of him as you slice through their grotesque inhuman bodies. So caught up in your own world that you don't have time to make sure if Geralt is all right when another one jumps for your arm, only to be greeted with a hard cut to its sunken in stomach.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you turn your head left and right, readying for anything else. When nothing appears to move you lower his sword to your side, turning around to give Geralt a smirk and no less a cocky comment.

Your face instantly falls when he whispers a harsh "fuck" while he leans down to look at something on his left thigh. He shakes his snowy mane, standing to his full height as he takes a limped step towards you. His obsidian eyes finally finding yours as he takes another troubled step forward, he looks like a mess.

Your eyes glance down at the bite mark revealing itself from an opened spot in his dark pants, you suck in a sharp breath, your face dead serious as you watch him with wide glossy eyes. His face looks rough and sweaty as he limps closer, suddenly falling to his knees as he stares at you, almost pleadingly, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Geralt?" You whisper, your nerves standing on end at the sight of him, no way he's just been bitten, it can't be.

Your lip quivers as you drop the forgotten sword upon the earth, taking hasty steps as he looks tiredly into your frightened face. You quickly kneel down to meet his eye level as he lets out a shaky breath, your hands gently touch his dirt smudged face as he wills his hands to grasp your arms.

His grip is unnaturally weak as you look deeply into his eyes, your voice shaky, "You're fine. You're fine, it's just a small wound nothing worth worrying over....it's just..it's nothing...you're fi...." His head falls downward in your palms as his hands slip from their place on your arms, "No, no, no, no....Geralt, love look at me! Look at me!" He answers back with a low groan, you swallow the building lump in your throat as he struggles to lift his tired gaze to yours.

The weakest of smiles displays over his handsome features as he lets out a tired sigh, "You're beautiful....you know that?" His voice is soft and broken as you hold up his face, biting your lip to keep from crying. He smiles sluggishly, "Thank you for loving me...I....Y/N...I...love y..."

Suddenly his eyes shut as he goes limp against you, you catch him and quickly move to gently position his body so that his head can rest in your lap, "Geralt no!" You exclaim desperately through tears that are starting to blur your vision, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up you dick...you can't leave me here!" You shake his shoulder but to no avail, "Fuck! No, no, no....I just got you back." Tears race down your cheeks as a sob racks through your entire body, you suck in a breath, trying to contain your pain.

This isn't fucking fair!

The old man hustles to your side, now made aware of the dire circumstances, "Ohhh, dear...Uh....we can take him to my house, if you will.....Just, keep him awake." Proposes the man, you hold Geralt closer, your wet cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your crimson eyes glow blood red.

"If you help me save him I won't end your pathetic life because of your stupidity!" You snap, making him flinch backwards as you glare at him, a low growl emitting from deep within your throat. If Geralt dies you might tear this man to shreds.

He quickly regains his bearings, now understanding that his life is at stake if Geralt dies under his care. The man walks around you, reaching down to pull Geralt from out of your lap. Once you're free he looks to you, "Miss he's quite heavy, this one. Could you lift his legs and help me carry him to...."

He's left with nothing but a genuinely bewildered look as you pick your sleeping Witcher up, holding him in both your arms while ignoring the mans shocked expression as you walk over to the large wooden cart. Setting Geralt in the back on a couple soft bags of goods.

Jumping in next to him, you kneel down by his side while the man quickly ties Roach to the back. It's going to be a long night. Until dawn broke out over the horizon, the great sun coating the land in daylight would you lay by his side as he slept through the multitude of hours.

Finally coming to in the late morning, looking more pale then usual and clearly disoriented, his golden irises trying so hard to focus on your blurry face. The man, who revealed himself to be Yurga, kept his horses at a fast trot while you continued to hold tightly onto your Witcher's arm, squeezing it every time he would begin to close his eyes. Just keep him awake.

"I don't know about you." Starts Yurga, "But I'm not liking the sound of those explosions in the distance....bloody Nilfgaard better keep themselves far away from here. We don't need trouble like that round these parts. Not after everything they've done."

Geralt stirs underneath your touch, snapping your attention back down to him, you watch as his eyelids open and close, his golden irises looking rather lost and hazy. He's so pale, too pale.

"Easy does it Butcher." Affirms Yurga as he turns his head to the side, "You got bit, best keep your sights trained on the pretty lady in front of you."

Geralt's brows furrow as he turns his own head to the side at the sound of the mans voice, confusion clear on his face since the poison from the ghouls has begun to mess with his mind. Seated closely on his right, his muscular arm on your left and his broad body on your right, his face is much more faded in color now. Too pale and sickly looking for your liking.

Reaching an arm out, you gently touch his face, turning his head back to you, "Geralt, keep those fine golden eyes on me, you gotta focus love....you're becoming delirious, but you're not dead. Just stay awake Geralt I'll be right here." He blinks hard, his face appearing dazed as he listens, suddenly trying to sit himself up.

You quickly react, leaning over him to grasp both his arms, stopping him from moving anymore, "Be still Geralt. You'll only make things worse if you try and move, your bite is spreading slowly but moving will only bring you more pain." His face grimaces in discomfort, you release your grip, sitting normally once again.

Oh Geralt, be strong for me.

Your face a mask of deep worry at his reaction, he may be a Witcher, but if his wounds are not treated properly he will die. Leaving you completely and utterly alone in this world whether you're ready for it or not. You rest a hand over his chest, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat, he stares up at the sky, his gaze lost in the clouds.

You can tell he's probably watching some hallucination playing out before him, his gaze seems so far away while you sit here on this stupid hay covered cart pulled by the slowest two horses you've ever seen. He stirs again, his pale face trying to find yours as he focuses in on your worried appearance.

You can tell he's back, especially when his left arm quickly takes yours that was previously resting over his chest. He squeezes your hand, "My bag. Y/N I need my bag." His voice his gravelly and urgent, you quickly turn to look around, the pull of the cart jostling you while your eyes hunt for the bag.

"Yurga stop the fucking horses for a moment!" You yell, letting go of Geralt's hand as you grab the leather bag. Yurga directs his horses to stop, turning abruptly around to see what's the matter.

"The bottle....Y/N.....you know which one." Rasps Geralt as your eyes quickly find the small glass bottle containing some dark liquid, a type of healing potion for sure.

Handing the potion to your Witcher he hastily takes it, ripping off the cork with his teeth before making a face and chugging most of it. He groans, pouring the rest over his infected wound, more groans of pain sounding as you listen to the sizzle of flesh take to the healing mixture.

Gently patting his arm you hand him a small smile of reassurance, "You definitely need a healer, I'm afraid not even my blood can heal these wounds. Those fucking ghouls." You growl as Yurga urges his horses to begin trotting down the trail again.

His body rests against the piles of clothes and hay while his hand reaches out for yours, "I need to go to the Blue Mountains....Y/N...tell him I need to...." Mutters Geralt with tired eyes.

You squeeze his hand, "What? No, we don't have....you don't have enough time, Geralt you'll die."

"He'll heal me....I just need to go...."

"No!" You cry, there is absolutely no way you'd both make it to the Blue Mountains before his heart stops beating, "Stay awake you fucker, we'll heal you soon enough, just stay awake....we're almost to Yurga's farm. You'll get proper treatment there....just stay awake."

Until the sun would set and the darkness of night crept over the land would you constantly play as an ever continuous jostling annoyance to Geralt, doing all that you must to keep him awake and alive. Soon enough would Yurga have to stop and let his old horses rest for awhile. In the meantime, you'd help Geralt to lean against a tree as you went off in search of healing plants that could help to temporarily stop the spread.

With not much to give from your herb hunting, you walked forth from out of the bushes and into the grassy tree covered opening where you're greeted with the sight of a dark-red haired mage tending to your Witcher's infected bite wound. You immediately freeze, though she's too focused to even realize that you're watching her work. For a couple minutes would you observe her talents before blinking once and suddenly she's gone. Just like that, gone.

Well that was fucking bizarre.

Suddenly Geralt bolts upright, your brows furrow as he looks all around him, his wide eyes shifting right and left until they finally find your familiar form walking closer. He lets out an audible sigh of relief, before his grey brows furrow once again in thought.

"Where'd she go? The woman?" He wonders, confusion clear on his face as he watches you crouch down to meet his eye level.

You raise a brow, "Can't say I'd know, but I wish I'd have time to thank her for doing whatever magical mage shit she did to your infected bite mark." You reply with a chuckle, "Now you've gotten yourself a new scar added to the collection. Though still a very handsome work of art in my humble opinion."

His face softens at your relaxed tone, suddenly realizing that there's no need to worry anymore, "Thank you Y/N."

You laugh, "What for? I didn't do that much, I didn't even know how to properly heal you. And I definitely wasn't planning on turning you into a vampire just to have you around longer."

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you study his face, "For keeping me awake this long, no matter how much I wanted to shove you off the wagon."

"I knew you wanted to do it, I could see it in your face. That is, when you weren't staring off into nothing like a lost boy who had too many special herbs." You jest, earning a pleasing chuckle from your sweaty Witcher. You smile, "Now. Come on my love, let's go." You reach a hand out for him to take, without a second thought he accepts, letting you pull him to his feet.

He shakes his head, steadying himself as he holds your arms, "Geralt you're acting like you've just downed half a dozen mugs of ale, lets rest on the cart yeah? Yurga will take us to his farm where we can get some proper food and drink, and if we're lucky....you some new pants."

His smile is soft as he looks down at you, Geralt touches your chin affectionately, "That sounds rather lovely."

Before he can do anything else you grasp the hand that's touching your chin, "I know exactly where your mind is going next and all I have to say is you're getting a bit more cleaned up before those pretty lips of yours are allowed to kiss me." He closes his eyes, resting his head against yours as he releases his hand from your chin. Now pulling you closer with his large strong hands.

"I could have died." He mutters, his gravely voice laced with a friendly playfulness.

"But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know." You finally sigh, "You're still sweaty and smell like a dog who rolled in cow shit."

He lightly chuckles, "That's rude." Before pressing a feather light kiss onto your forehead where he then pulls away after a moment, "Guess we should help the old man pack the rest of his bags away."

Gripping his torso tighter you lean in close, "I'm enjoying myself too much." You admit, "Even though you smell rather atrocious at the moment."

"Oh please Y/N." Muses Geralt, his face inches from yours, "You still called be pretty when I was covered head to toe in Selkiemore guts, if I do recall."

"Did I? Must have slipped." You mutter lowly, brushing your lips past his.

"Y/N." Warns Geralt, his hot breath fanning over your smirking face as your ruby irises flicker from his plush lips to his golden eyes.

"On second thought. Perhaps you do look rather lovely at the moment, I think I'll just have to..." He's left guessing what you would have said next as your lips press firmly against his, both your arms pulling one another even closer now. Despite all he's just endured, Geralt tastes quite nice, his muscular body feeling even better holding you so close.

His lips move with yours in some pleasurable heated dance, soon enough does his calloused hands reach up to place themselves on either side of your face, you smile into the kiss at his urgency to hold you close. A couple more lingering blissful moments are shared flush against one another before your Witcher inevitably pulls away, first pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips once again before finally pulling away to look into your glistening eyes.

His hands still gently holding your cheeks, while your own ones grip around his forearms, "I hope there's more of that for when we find a tavern later." You muse, biting your lip as Geralt's eyes stare deeply into yours.

"Y/N. I'll let you take me any way you want." Mutters Geralt in that low and gravelly voice of his, "Just me and you."

"I think I'd like that very much." His lips find yours once again as your fingers trail down his back, wishing so hard that you were both laying on a soft warm bed in some hidden tavern in the mountains.

While you're both unbashfully exploring each others bodies like it was the first time, a sudden cough is heard from behind you causing the two of you to abruptly pull apart and look in that direction, "Uh...don't mean to intrude, but uh.....could we get moving if ya both don't mind?" Asks Yurga politely, trying not to find either of your amused gazes as he looks at a stick on the ground.

Right, you'd probably want to get out of the woods first.

The merchant Yurga had been true to his word, he had finally at long last made it to his home placed in a great clearing within the woods. A comfortable farmhouse on an open spot of land away from the fighting and battles nearby. His cart came to an abrupt halt as his wife quickly opened up the door and raced out to meet him, excitement flowing through her veins as a huge smile graced her face.

"We're all okay. The war is close, but we're okay. I need to tell you something." Exclaims Yurga's blonde curly haired wife.

"Me too." Affirms the older man with a slight thrill lacing his words.

His wife smiles, "I met a girl. An orphan, I found her in the woods nearby." Geralt halts all movement at the startling words, you doing the same as both of your furrowed gazes find one another.

No way this is who you think she's actually talking about. Hundreds of girls have been orphaned by the war.

"I met a Witcher." Speaks Yurga with a nod, "And a dhampir, if you'll believe it." Without warning Geralt jumps down from the cart and begins walking towards the woods much to your confusion, "They saved my life. Now fetch 'em some ale before they go to Kaer Mor-somthing." Urges Yurga, while you jump down from the cart, making hasty steps in Geralt's direction as Yurga and his wife finally look over to watch as the two of you make for the woods, "Hey, Butcher. Butcher! Where you goin'?" Shouts Yurga as Geralt continues onward, almost caught in a trance as he ignores the rambling merchant.

"Y/N?" Shouts the older man, causing you to stop and turn to him, "Where you two goin'?"

Your brows furrow, not completely sure of yourself, "I don't know." You whisper, keeping your body still as you look out at the thick greenery where Geralt had just wandered into for some unknown reason. You can't explain why, but you feel as though this is a path that only he must take.

The girl in the woods will be with him always.

He walks through the forest, his feet taking him somewhere or rather to someone who's been hiding from him for a long time. He can't even fully explain it, the call he feels to find what he's seeking. He suddenly stops, thinking his thoughts must be false and this urge to find who lingers in the wood is simply horseshit as per usual. A false sense of destiny. He turns around, walking a couple steps further back the way he came before an undeniable urge to look back consumes him.

The girl in the woods will be with you always.

And there she is, Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a shining beacon of hope in the dull wet gloom of the towering forest.

Destiny has prevailed.

Your boots shift from right to left as you stand idly in the morning air, your thoughts swimming around in your head of what could be taking Geralt so damn long, even if it's only realistically been about three minutes. Your new friends from behind you have instead left you to yourself and decided to tend to their horses, much to your relief.

Hugging yourself closer, you shiver, though you're not cold. A kind of magic of sorts seems to catch you in the misty air, a feeling you haven't felt since that night at Pavetta's banquet pulls around you like leaves on the wind.

How odd it feels, yet this seems right.

Two heartbeats reach your heightened ears, one so slow. But the other, beats normally like that of a child's.

You take a step back, steadying yourself as you wait for who you're expecting to inevitably appear. Shoes move across earth and leaves, signaling their close arrival. Your nerves die as two shadows emerge from the bushes and into the sunlight, the two of them are talking, unaware of your presence in the yard.

The child suddenly looks, her enchanted blue green irises falling onto you as she quickly comes to a halt, her eyes full of wonder and nervous apprehension. Geralt's brows furrow as he stops as well, his face turning to find the source of the girls fear.

His golden eyes spot you in an instant, he finds you staring curiously at the small blonde girl, the tiniest of smiles gracing your lips as you fiddle with your hands. You can't help but feel ridiculous for how you've been feeling about meeting this Child Surprise after so long, she is just a girl, a survivor of the unspeakable. Though you may not be the best with children in general, you feel no ill will against this one, all those previous feelings of loathing and judgement are gone to the wind.

Geralt's eyes are kind as he gently rests a comforting hand over her thin shoulder, she looks to him now then back to you as he speaks, "This is Y/N of Alkatraz, the dhampir princess of the High Northern Kingdom. My uh, lover?" He says cautiously, a bit unsure of what to truly call you before he thankfully finds his words, "Well...uh, my immortal companion, and someone who I love very deeply."

Oh, Geralt you adorable idiot.

Ciri's brows furrow in thought for a moment as she finds her courage, "My grandmother told me of that kingdom, she said it is ruled by vampires. Are you one?" She wonders, her voice a small nervous whisper.

The corners of your eyes crinkle in amusement as you smile, shaking your head, "No my dear princess, I am of that blood and character, but a dhampir is what I am as Geralt said. It's someone who is half vampire and half human." You assure the small girl, "No need to fear me, I promise you princess that I would never harm you in any way, you have my word."

A small grin tugs at the corners of her lips before her eyes fall downcast, "That's very kind, most people I've met so far out here have tried to kill me." She hands you the flash of a smile, "Glad to know not everyone is like them." She reveals freely to you with her small voice, so this is truly the Child Surprise.

The princess of Cintra.

"With us, you will not have to fear the damned talons of Nilfgaard Princess Cirilla...I will protect you with my life now."

Her brows furrow in thought at your truthful words, "You know of me? But how?"

You smile kindly, your scarlet irises flashing over to Geralt for a brief moment, "I have traveled with this handsome Witcher for almost fifty years, I know everything he knows. Even who you are." You take a couple steps forward, kneeling down to face her sad eyes, "And I am truly sorry for your loss, no child deserves the pain and fear you have endured since Cintra's fall. No less the horrors you have witnessed since your escape, these lands are undoubtedly deadly."

"Thank you, Y/N." She looks from you to Geralt, "I'm glad to have found you both then." You smile, standing up fully to lace your arm with Geralt's.

"Now, I think these kind people here may have breakfast waiting for us and some ale if I'm lucky, so my small friend Ciri, would you join us for a decently peaceful morning?" Ciri gifts your ears with a small giggle as Geralt hums in amusement. Proud that you're taking so well to the newest addition to your group of two.

You turn around just as the curly haired woman waves, "Would you all mind joining us for breakfast?" She calls out as a satisfied grin breaks out upon your face, "Of course we would be delighted!" You shout back, probably with too much excitement but you're trying to look as non threatening as possible. Also you are admittedly very hungry.

The three of you begin walking toward the farmhouse, Ciri follows the woman and her husband inside as Geralt stops near the entrance, you turn a raised brow to him, "What is it now? You planning on finding another magical orphan in the woods again?"

He looks down at the muddy ground before finding your lingering gaze once again, "No, just trying to figure out what to do next." Grumbles your Witcher in that lovable gravely voice of his.

You gently squeeze his hand as a smirk plays at your lips, "How bout we think of breakfast first? Then we can set our sights on paying our friends at Kaer Morhen a little visit. Bet they'd love that." You add sarcastically, wiggling your brows.

Your Witcher finally gives you a small smile, "Oh, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again." He jests.

Lightly smacking his arm you take a step into the doorway, turning back to look at him, "What? Am I not nice and lovable? Can't believe you'd even say that."

"Only when you want to be." Mutters Geralt before gently kissing the side of your head while walking past you, "Now lets get some ale."

-

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