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starlightandsouls · 6 months ago

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Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

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

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

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

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

#azriel×reader #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x y/n #azriel #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #acotar x you #acotar x reader

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libraryofgage · 1 year ago

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Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One

There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao

This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

----

There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.

A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.

And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.

He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.

Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.

Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.

"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."

The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.

Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"

The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.

"You want something from there?"

The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.

He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.

A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.

The drawer is full of shiny things.

He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"

The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.

Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.

The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.

"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.

A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.

Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.

Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.

Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.

----

Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.

So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...

Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?

Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.

There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.

"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.

The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.

An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.

He should know better.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."

Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.

"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."

A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.

Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.

The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.

"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."

He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.

And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.

"Steve," he says.

To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.

"My name. It's Steve."

"You can talk."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.

"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.

"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"

"That's the closest translation to your language."

"What's your name in your language?"

Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.

A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"

Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."

"One of your...guppies?"

"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"

Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"

Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"

"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."

"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"

Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.

"She's already popped out seven!"

Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."

Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"

"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."

"Do you like being a caretaker?"

"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."

"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"

It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."

Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.

"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."

Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.

"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.

"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."

Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #that's gonna be the fic tag for this series btw #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fluff #my writing

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ro-is-struggling · 3 months ago

Text

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 3 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: Geralt returns to see his princess once again. Only this time he is not alone and after a year without communication he does not know if he will still be welcome.

Warnings: slow burn, grumpy x sunshine (or more like grumpy x disney princess lol), miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, me trying to write domestic stuff, mentions of past trauma (for both Ciri and the protagonist/reader), Geralt Ciri and reader being a family, canon typical violence, my attempt at creating an original monster, some very long dialogues (sorry! I hallucinated half of the story and I couldn’t leave any part out apparently), FEM READER (the protagonist is referred to as woman/she-her/princess/sunshine)

Let me know if I missed anything! (I definitely did, I've been writing this part for so long there's probably a lot of stuff I forgot lol so just lmk)

English is not my first language

Word count: 21.800 (I'm not even sorry)

Notes: I’m sorry it took me so long to post this! I promise you I’ve been working on it since the moment I posted the last part but everytime I wrote a scene a new idea came to mind and I just had to add it so here we are. That moment with Ciri wasn’t in my original idea but I just had to include it cause that poor girl needs a hug! Besides, it was a nice way to explore a little bit more about the protagonist background

I have a few ideas for the next part but please send me yours! (SEE THE END OF THE POST FOR MORE)

PART 1 || PART 2

Do you want to get notified when I post? JOIN MY TAG LIST HERE!

The cat was the first to sense his presence. Even before he knocked on the door or the sound of the horse's footsteps echoed through the hut, the cat was already meowing and pacing back and forth, going from the door to the window and back to the door. He always did that when he felt Geralt was near. He was possibly the only cat on the continent that didn't hiss and hide in the presence of a witcher, quite the opposite in fact. The feline knew he was good and trustworthy because she trusted him, so he ignored all his instincts and gave Geralt a chance. They became friends almost immediately —even though the witcher used to pretend otherwise. The cat loved Geralt as much as his owner, and had missed him almost more than she had.

More than a year had passed. A year without news of him, without a visit or a letter to let her know he was well. A year of uncertainty in which the mind of the poor princess had done nothing but think about what might have happened to him. On good days, she accepted with a broken heart that he was not going to visit her again after the disaster that turned out to be their travel together. It pained her to think that she had missed her chance with him. She felt alone and lost, but that was better than thinking that his absence was because something really bad had happened to him. Dark were the days when she woke up wrapped in sweat, with images of Geralt bloodied fixed in her mind. She had lost count of how many nightmares she had had about it, how many different monsters had been responsible for ending his life and taking away the man who made her happy and gave her purpose. So when that was the alternative, convincing herself that he had simply stopped loving her was more bearable to her poor tormented mind.

“It's not him, darling. He's not coming back here” she spoke to her cat, bending down to stroke his head. The feline meowed, as if to answer her, and jumped up onto the window sill. She let out a tired sigh and pulled back the curtains to open the latch to let the animal out.

It was then that she heard the murmurs and footsteps of a horse in the distance. The cat meowed once more and jumped out of the window, running into the darkness of the night. She followed him with her eyes, looking for him in the shadows to try to find out what it was that had him so agitated. In the distance, moving through the bushes and trees, she recognized the unique white hair of the man who had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past year. She ran to the door, flinging it open and taking a few steps outside to ensure that her eyes were not deceiving her.

Geralt was there, not looking a day older than the last time she had seen him. She noticed that he didn't look hurt or in bad shape, so she couldn't help but wonder what was the reason for him showing up at her house after such a long time of complete silence. Though her questions were pushed aside when his eyes made contact with hers. All the pain, fear and uncertainty she had accumulated for almost two years dissolved the moment she felt his warm gaze rest on her figure. Her heart began to beat faster than it had in a long time, her stomach, full of butterflies, was twisting and turning because of her nerves.

She realized then that she had no idea how to react to his presence. What was she supposed to say to him? Was she supposed to pretend that she hadn't had the worst year of her life? Was it worth scolding him for his absence when he had finally decided to come back? Happiness and anger began to fight inside her with every step the witcher took towards her. Memories of them being happy were followed by images of the nights she had cried herself to sleep because of him, creating a conflicting narrative that did nothing but confuse her.

“Geralt...” She called his name when he was close enough to hear her. “What are you doing here?” The question sounded more accusatory than she expected, but she didn't have time to take it back —or double down on her complaints— because he stepped aside, revealing the figure of a young girl. It took the woman a moment to focus her gaze on the child since she was almost entirely hidden behind Geralt's broad shoulders. She had long blonde hair and pale skin, though her nose and cheeks were reddened by the cold wind of the approaching winter. In her hands she carried her cat, who purred happily at the gentle caresses she gave him.

The confusion about her own feelings was soon replaced by confusion about the girl and her relationship with Geralt. Her eyes traveled back and forth a couple of times, trying to piece together the reasons behind her presence and the explanation as to why Geralt was traveling with the girl. She couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, so it was hard to imagine that he had decided to travel with her of his own accord. Not after the things he had said to her on their journey together. She thought then that perhaps it was someone he had saved along the way, a young princess he had to rescue from the clutches of a monster or a poor girl who had gotten lost.

Whoever it was, Geralt didn't feel the need to tell her. “We need a safe place to stay.” Was the only explanation he provided her. She didn't insist either, ultimately she didn't need a reason to let him into her home. She stepped aside without a second thought, making room for them to enter and making sure to lock the door behind her back.

“You know, for someone that claims to not have friends you sure do have a lot.” She laughed and Geralt gave her a rather unamused look. “Who's this beautiful young lady?”

The girl looked up at Geralt, wide eyes looking up at him for his approval. The witcher nodded his head, a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible. She only picked up on it because she knew Geralt so well and was already used to that kind of reaction, which told her that the girl knew him very well too. It was as if they communicated without speaking, just a quick glance was enough and they knew exactly what the other was thinking. It was impressive and she hadn't seen anything like it before, especially not with Geralt. It only increased her curiosity even more.

“I'm Cirilla.” The girl introduced herself with a shy smile, lowering the cat from her arms.

It took her a few seconds to understand why that name seemed familiar. When reality hit her, wide eyes flew to Geralt with an expression of confusion and surprise mixed together. He had once told her about the feast Jaskier had dragged him to and the way the event had ended. The last time they had talked about his child of surprise he seemed to want nothing to do with that matter. When she had presented her concerns to him he had told her that he had assured the child's family that he would not claim her. And honestly she had thought it was for the best. With the way Geralt approached life she couldn't imagine him raising a child. That's why she didn't understand why he was now showing up at her house with her. What had made him change his mind?

She managed to compose herself quickly from her surprise, her eyes returning to Cirilla almost immediately so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. “That's a beautiful name, Cirilla!” She complimented her with a smile. “I'm sure you must be cold! I can run you a hot bath and then we can eat something. What do you say?”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you!” Cirilla's eyes lit up at the mention of the bath, desperate to feel the hot water against her cold skin. Since she had met Geralt her situation had improved considerably, but the cold outdoors was still something she was having trouble getting used to.

After leaving Cirilla alone in the bathroom with everything she needed to clean herself and restore her tired muscles, the young woman returned to the table where Geralt was sitting, ready to answer the thousands of questions he knew were swirling around in her head. Some of them —especially the ones about Ciri— were easy to answer, but others... he did not even want to think about it.

“I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with her.” she said, dropping into the chair across from him. “What made you change your mind?”

Geralt hesitated before answering. He wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to tell her that the last few months he had spent running away from her had been the most miserable of his life. That every day he spent away from her was agony. That he woke up hearing her laughter in the wind, missing the warmth of her body, longing to smell the perfume of her hair. He believed it was best for both of them if he stayed away. They could never be together and persisting in that fantasy would only hurt them. He thought he could do it, that he could forget her if he spent enough time away from her charms. He knew it wouldn't be easy and that it would hurt, but he was convinced that it would be the best for both of them in the long run.

However, months passed and the emptiness in his chest only grew heavier with each passing day. Geralt couldn't close his eyes without seeing her smile. He couldn't sleep without dreaming of having her by his side. He couldn't see a deer in the forest or a rabbit hopping around without thinking of her, of how happy he would be in her company, of the way she would take the animal in her hands and make him stop to play with it. His days were gray and dull, cold even under the hottest summer. Without her —without the promise of feeling her hands on his body or the hope of hearing her sweet voice call his name one more time— life lost some of its luster.

He realized then that he could never forget her. She was the woman he loved, the only one who occupied his mind and heart, the only one who could make him seriously question his future as a witcher. She was his destiny, their paths had crossed for a reason that day in the forest. They were bound together by ties stronger than their own will, so there was no point in fighting against it. It was not worth running away from destiny if the only thing he gained was to deepen the emptiness that pressed on his chest. And she was his destiny, as well as Ciri was. He realized that if he wanted to stop feeling so miserable he had to stop fighting against what he could not change and face what destiny wanted from him.

But instead of admitting his feelings and being vulnerable in front of her, Geralt chose the easy answer: “Her kingdom was invaded. All her family was killed. I just couldn't leave her alone after that. She's in danger, she needs my protection.”

“So why bring her here?” She snapped back at him, sounding harsher than intended.

She wasn't upset with his presence, in fact she was glad to know that he still saw her home as a refuge where he was willing to bring Cirilla to make sure she was protected. All she wanted to know was why it had taken him so long to show up. Was he angry with her? Was their relationship broken beyond repair? Had he been preoccupied with his travels? Had he been avoiding her? Did he still love her? Those questions had been eating her up inside all these months. She thought she would never see Geralt again, so she had tried hard not to think about it. But he was there with her now and she needed those answers in order to ease her mind.

“I'm bringing her to Kaer Morhen with me, she'll be safe there. But she was getting tired and cold and since we were close I thought... We will leave in the morning if our stay causes any trouble for you.” Geralt assured her, trying not to cause a disturbance.

He should have figured that he couldn't just reappear in her life and wait for her to welcome him back with open arms. She had every right to throw him out if she wanted to, he had behaved like a complete bastard. But when he decided to seek refuge in her hut, Geralt wasn't thinking of him or her, but of Ciri. But now he understood that maybe he was asking too much of her. He was so used to using her home as a shelter that he didn't consider that the doors might be closed to him one day.

“I don't want you to leave. I want you to tell me why it took you so long to come back. I want you to tell me that there is a good reason for leaving me in the dark all this time, wondering what could have happened to you and if I was ever going to see your face again.”

“Sunshine, I...” Geralt tried to respond, but stopped in mid-sentence. He couldn't find the words to express how he felt, to explain to her how stupid he had been and how sorry he was for his mistake in a way that wouldn't make things worse. He didn't want to hurt her, even though he knew it was a little late for that.

She felt her heart squeeze at the mention of that nickname. She hadn't realized how much she had missed hearing his voice calling her by that name until that moment. It reminded her of the simpler, happier times they had shared, of long nights spent sleepless as they talked about life. It reminded her of how much she loved being called that by him and how her heart had skipped a beat the first time he had used it. She never knew what had prompted him to call her that in the first place —and she'd always been too embarrassed to ask—, but she was glad he had. It made her feel special, loved.

“Forget it.” she said as she noticed the internal conflict reflecting in Geralt's eyes. She didn't know what was making him so hesitant, but she began to think that maybe she didn't want to hear the answer to his question. Maybe it was better to live in ignorance after all. Maybe living on happy memories and moments that would never get back was better than living in harsh reality. All this time she had thought the uncertainty had been the worst, but seeing the doubt in the witcher's yellow eyes made her think that maybe the truth could be worse. She didn't know if she was ready to know that he didn't love her.

“Tell me about Cirilla. You said she is in danger, why?” She sought to change the subject, desperate to find a topic of conversation that would quell those thoughts.

“There's people after her, a black knight that has been following her since the fall of Cintra. She dreams about him every night.” Geralt explained, remembering the way the little girl tossed and turned in her sleep because of the nightmares.

“I can give her something to help with the nightmares so at least she can have one good night of sleep.”

“That's not all... she has magic.”

“Like her mother?” the woman asked curiously. She still remembered the details Geralt had told her about the feast that night where his and Cirilla's destiny had been linked. The magic that the young girl's mother had demonstrated was something she had never even heard of before in her life.

“I don't know what the extent of her power is, she doesn't talk much about it.”

“And you want me to do all the work for you, huh?” She guessed before Geralt could even hint at it. It was a long shot, but if anyone was going to be able to break through the barrier Ciri had created around her to protect herself, it was her. People always tended to open up to her, her sweet and charming nature sparked trust in even the most reclusive and distrustful person.

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just... she's scared, I understand that, but I can't protect her if she doesn't tell me the truth. I thought that perhaps you could get through to her better than I can. You have magic too, maybe she'll be more inclined to talk about it with someone that understands what she's going through.”

“I'll see what I can do.” She promised him, unable to refuse to help a frightened little girl who had lost everything.

The young woman couldn't help but notice the protective way in which Geralt spoke of Ciri. She wasn't sure how long they had known each other, but from the way he cared for her she would say quite a bit. The witcher's trust wasn't easy to gain —it had taken her a while even after saving his life—, but the girl seemed to have done it in record time. It was heartwarming to see the way they acted around each other. She always looked at him before answering some of the questions the young woman asked him during dinner, as if she needed Geralt's confirmation to reveal certain information about her. It was clear that they trusted each other, in a way reminiscent of a father and daughter. Which made Ciri's reluctance to open up to him even stranger.

It was strange to see Geralt in such a position. He always acted so tough, like a lone wolf who didn't need anyone's company. Seeing the way he cared for Ciri —how he urged her to take the sleeping potion she offered her, warning her how important it was for her to get a good night's sleep— was almost jarring. Even in her wildest fantasies she hadn't imagined Geralt being a father. Now that she saw it, though, she liked it. It suited him. She only wished he had given himself the chance to explore that side of him much sooner. She couldn't deny that it pained her to know that she had always been right, the two of them could have worked out if only he had let it happen.

After they had dined and chatted for a long time, she, like the good hostess she was, escorted Ciri to the extra room she had unoccupied, telling her that it would be her space for as long as she wished to stay there. “Any friend of Geralt is a friend of mine. You're welcome to stay for as long as you want.” She smiled sweetly, trying hard to show the girl that she could trust her. Ciri thanked her before she closed the door behind her, making sure she knew she appreciated her hospitality.

When she left the girl's room, she didn't find Geralt anywhere. She didn't worry too much about it, assuming he would be out with Roach or securing the perimeter of the property to make sure Ciri could get a peaceful night of uninterrupted sleep. She let him do his thing, opting to tidy up the house and get ready for bed. She waited for him in bed, one last candle burning as she read a book. She assumed he would come to sleep with her as they had always done. Now that Ciri was occupying the only free room, the other alternative was to sleep on the floor. But time passed, the night grew dark and cold, and Geralt did not come. So she put on a cloak and went outside to look for him.

It didn't take her long to find him, she just circled the property and stumbled upon him in the makeshift stable she had at the side of her garden. He was sitting on a pile of hay, chatting with Roach while stroking the animal's fur. He had his back against the wooden wall and seemed to be settled there, as if he had no intention of moving. When she approached, he fell silent, so she couldn't hear what he was saying to the horse, although she had a good idea.

“What are you doing out here? It's freezing!” She said, crossing her arms under her cloak to keep her body warm. While it hadn't yet snowed for the first time, there was an icy dew in the air that looked a lot like it. And while she understood that Geralt had a higher tolerance for extreme weather thanks to his mutations, that didn't mean she liked the idea of him being cold in the stable when there was a warm bed waiting for him inside.

“It's not that cold.” he replied and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, not believing for a moment that he truly didn't feel the cold. She had been outside for a couple of minutes and could already feel the cold starting to dig into her bones. “I was taking care of Roach.”

“She seems fine. Come inside before you freeze to death.”

“You know that won't happen.”

“Geralt, please.”

It was a gentle plea, with a hint of desperation. All she wanted was to have Geralt by her side during the night again. She wanted to lie down and find that she felt the same comfort she always had, that his presence made her feel as safe and comforted as she remembered. She wanted to feel his strong arms wrap around her at night and know that the doubts were only in her head and completely unfounded. She wanted to know that he still loved her and that it had all been a big misunderstanding. She was desperate to find a way to move on, to let go of all the pain that had haunted her. But she was terrified to talk about it, so all she had left was that. If Geralt didn't accept her offer then she knew all was lost.

“I don't want to impose...”

“You're not,” she interrupted him before he could blurt out any excuses. “I'm asking you to come inside with me.”

Geralt couldn't refuse that request. Even though things between them were weird, he still couldn't resist her charms. There was something in the way she looked at him, a glint of desperation growing in her eyes, that made it impossible for him to say no to her. It gave him hope. He thought she was angry with him, and she was, but inside her still burned the flame of love they had once shared. Maybe all was not lost. Maybe he could still make things right.

He followed her back into the house, pulling off his wet cloak and muddy boots before entering the room. It looked exactly as he remembered it, not a single object out of place. It was as if time had not passed. The flowers on the window sill were still as colorful and full of life as in the spring, the books stacked in the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed did not seem to have changed their order. The air smelled of her, that intoxicating mixture of floral perfume and wet earth that he had come to miss so much.

However, the reality of the situation hit him as he laid his head on the pillow. There was no goodnight kiss or silly talk before bed. She simply laid down on his side of the bed and settled down with her back to him before blowing out the candle that lit the room. They were only inches apart, but Geralt had never felt so far away from her before. Even when he was miles away, purposely avoiding her, he still felt close to her. How could he not when images of her wouldn't leave his mind? He kept seeing her in his dreams, reliving their happy moments every time he closed his eyes, fantasizing about hearing her laughter and feeling the warmth of her body once more. But now that he had her by his side, he felt nothing but a cold emptiness pressing on his chest.

He wanted to reach out to touch her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to wrap her in his arms and never let her go again, but he didn't know if he could —or if he should. He understood her hesitation, she had every right to be angry with him after the way he had reacted. He wanted to give her some space, some time so they could get their relationship back on track. He didn't want to pressure her, so he kept his hands to himself even though it hurt. He had to think of her first. He had no right to suddenly come back into her life after he had unilaterally decided to leave her, and demand the same treatment from her as before.

But what Geralt didn't know was that she wasn't avoiding him on purpose. She wanted to run into his arms, curl up on his chest and sleep wrapped in his warmth. But she didn't feel like she was the one who had to make the first move. Her feelings for him had never changed. She had been the one who had tried to make their relationship blossom. She had tried so hard to show him that they could have a future together. Geralt had been the one who had run away without explanation, so he should be the one to make the first move if he wanted to. She didn't want to pressure him, to make him feel like he had to do or say things he didn't want to just to protect her feelings. If he reached out to her, she needed to know that he was doing it because he really wanted to.

That was why his distance hurt her so much. Clearly there was something broken in their relationship and the most heartbreaking thing of it all was that she didn't know what to do to fix it —or even if she could.

The morning brought more pleasant weather conditions with it. The silent tension that haunted Geralt and the princess disappeared almost completely, mainly because they both sought to focus their attention on Ciri to avoid dealing with their own problems. Looking for an excuse that would give her the opportunity to spend more time with the girl, she asked Ciri to accompany her on a walk through the forest to replenish her collection of medicinal herbs. The winter was fast approaching and soon there would be nothing left but the plants she grew stored inside her house. Ciri agreed and Geralt joined them under the guise of hunting their lunch, although he had the decency to keep his distance so that they could get to know each other better.

It was a beautiful morning. Even though the autumn sun was not strong enough to counteract the cold breeze, there was no freezing mist that morning and that was already a reason to celebrate. Besides, Ciri was no longer wearing wet clothes and was well rested and fed, so she felt capable of accomplishing anything. The young woman guided her through the forest, telling her the details of the plants they needed to collect —their appearance, their medicinal uses, the potions and ointments she created. Ciri listened to her intently, fascinated and intrigued with the new information she was being presented with, wondering if she would be able to accomplish something like this someday.

“So you're a mage then?” Ciri asked, looking up at the woman walking beside her smelling a white flower.

“Not exactly.” she replied, earning a look of confusion from the girl. “I have an aptitude for magic, but I wasn't officially trained. I was taught by a healer everything I know, but magic is far more complex than what I know or the things I can do.” She hastened to explain as she knelt down in the dirt to pick up a couple of valerian leaves and put them in her basket.

“Is that how you met Geralt? Through your powers?”

“My abilities did play a part in the story of how we met, yes, but not in the way you're probably thinking.” The princess lost herself in her memories for a moment, images of that day flashing before her eyes. It felt so close and yet so far away at the same time. It was amazing to look back and see how far she had come both as a person, as well as their relationship. “He didn't tell you about us, huh?”

“He said you were an old friend, but didn't answer any of my questions. He's not particularly chatty.” Ciri said with a chuckle and she couldn't help but laugh too. If there was anyone who knew how difficult it could be to get a topic of conversation out of Geralt, it was her. She could almost imagine the girl's effusive curiosity running into the witcher's frustrating monosyllabic responses, just like it used to happen to her.

"Oh trust me, I know."

Geralt could hear them talking, but decided not to intervene. Instead he watched from a distance as they laughed together, feeling happy that they were getting along. Not that he thought it would be difficult, Ciri was a lovely girl and his sunshine was one of the sweetest and nicest people that existed on the continent. But still, it was nice to see them conversing so comfortably. It made him feel a strange warmth inside, a strange feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before. But he liked it, he found it comforting.

“We met after I escaped my home.” The princess began to tell her story, thinking carefully about every word before she said it. It was a great opportunity to build trust with Ciri, to let her know that she could understand her better than anyone else since she had also been a child frightened by her own powers. “You see, a long time ago I was a princess, just like you, trapped in a kingdom that had forbidden magic long before I was even born. I had to learn everything I know in secret, hiding from my parents and my own kingdom. Ruling wasn't my calling, especially in those conditions, so one day I decided to run away.”

Ciri's interest was piqued, her eyes growing wide with curiosity as she listened intently to the story the young woman told her. She told her about the monster that prowled the forests of her kingdom and how she used it to fake her death so she could escape a future she didn't want in a kingdom that didn't appreciate her. She also told her that was the reason Geralt showed up at her town, having been hired to kill the monster and avenge the death of the princess. But instead of encountering a beast, he found the young woman hiding in the forest.

“He could have taken me back to the castle. My parents probably would have paid him more to return their presumed dead daughter and heir to the throne home, but he didn't... he listened to my pleas and had mercy on me. He saved my life... everything I am today, everything I have, I owe to him. Geralt gave me a second chance in life and for that I will be eternally grateful.”

The princess smiled, remembering the details of their first meeting. Geralt had truly saved her life. She had failed to properly prepare for her escape, acting hastily and recklessly after an argument with her father that ended with him yelling at her that she was a disgrace to his family for not wanting to marry a lord who didn't love or respect her and only saw her as a way to gain more power. No matter how well she knew those woods, she could not have gotten very far on her own. And if anyone else had found her, they would have returned her to her parents without a thought, condemning her to a life of misery.

But Geralt had not done so. He had taken pity on her, putting her well-being above gaining greater wealth even when he did not know her. He had given her the opportunity to discover herself in complete freedom, far from the demands and mandates of her parents. Everything she was, was made possible by him. That's why she was always willing to help him, no matter how angry or upset she was with him. She couldn't let go of the hand of the man who had taken hers and pulled her out of the dark pit that was her former life.

“He saved my life too.” Ciri said with a sad smile on her lips. “He's the only family I have left.”

“I'm sorry about that,” the young woman offered a smile, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder and giving it a supportive squeeze. “You shouldn't have to go through all that violence and pain, no child should. But you are in good hands with Geralt, he's going to take good care of you. Don't let the big, grumpy frown and the stories about witchers fool you, he is a big softie with a heart of gold.”

They shared a few chuckles and continued on their way, searching for the herbs they had yet to gather. The princess told Ciri about the Celandine plant and its medicinal properties —telling her to keep her eyes open in case she saw a four-petaled yellow flower—, and about the Eyebright plant and how it had cured an eye infection in a girl's eye in the village. She also shared with her some of the stories of her life, how she had practically grown up in the forest and the peace she felt when she was in contact with nature.

Ciri liked to hear those stories, especially when she told her about the difficulties she faced in understanding and learning to control her powers in the beginning. It made her feel less lonely to know that she wasn't the only one who had to go through something like that alone and without much guidance. It gave her hope for her future. Watching as she bent down to heal the broken wing of a bird on the side of the road, Ciri thought that if she had managed to understand and control her powers then there was still hope for her too. Maybe one day she would stop being afraid of her own abilities. Maybe she would come to understand what was wrong with her and the purpose of her powers.

“Why did they prohibit magic in your kingdom?” the girl asked curiously, marveling at the healing capabilities of the runaway princess' powers. It only took a touch of her hands and the utterance of some words she did not understand for the bird to recover, flying from her hands to get lost in the treetops. Ciri could not understand how something as wonderful as that could be seen as a bad thing. Her powers were nothing like hers, so it was hard for her to think that they would be viewed as displeasing to anyone.

“No one really talked about it, and I was always too afraid to ask. But from what I understand, magic ran in the royal family, but it had never brought the kingdom any luck, only chaos and destruction.” she explained returning her attention to Ciri now that the bird had disappeared from her vision. “Apparently it made people too unstable to rule. My great grandmother was the last one to have magic before me and she was the reason it was banned, but no one really talked about it so I don't know exactly why. For the most part everybody just pretended magic didn't exist, especially my parents. I think they knew that I inherited my great grandmother's abilities and they thought that maybe if they didn't mention it might go away. But the only thing they accomplished was to isolate me.”

She paused in her story and Ciri could notice in her eyes the pain those memories caused her. The joyful and sweet expression that graced her face was replaced by a sad and melancholic look. It was only for a second, but her face changed so much that she looked like a completely different person from the one who was standing next to her minutes before. Ciri wondered what kind of horrors she would have had to go through in her old home and if that expression was so different because it belonged to the princess she had left behind.

“When I started showing the first signs of chaos, I didn't know what was going on with me. I was terrified.” She cleared her throat and then her face lit up with its usual sweetness again. “If it wasn't for the new court physician I would have never learned the truth. She was a mage on the run, hiding in the last place she thought they were going to look for her. She noticed the signs immediately and took me under her wing, taught me everything I know... how to control my powers, how to use them in the art of healing, and more importantly, she taught me to not be afraid of them, to not let the fear of others influence me.”

She gave Ciri a small smile, hoping she understood the meaning behind her words. She wanted to be that positive figure in her life, to pass on to Ciri the knowledge and confidence that had been passed on to her in her training. It wasn't much compared to what other mages could teach her, but it was a start. She was willing to be the guide she so desperately needed, if Ciri would let her.

“Were they afraid of you because you were different?” The girl asked, looking at her with wide eyes full of curiosity. It was a question she was asking both the woman beside her and herself. The princess recognized that, so she stopped in her tracks and turned to look Ciri in the eye. It was important for her to hear and understand what she was about to tell her.

“Probably, yes.” she admitted with a sigh. Ciri lowered her gaze and she took a step forward, reaching out to grab her chin and make her look up. “But you have to understand that fear is one of the most common reactions people have to the unknown, to that which they don't understand. It's not personal, they just can't help it. One important thing I learned over time is that reaction is something you can't control, there is nothing you or I can say or do to stop those who don't understand magic from fearing it. But what we can control is our own fear. And it is important not to let the fear of others affect one's perception of oneself.”

“But what if they are right?” Ciri's voice was close to a whisper, almost as if she struggled to utter those words aloud. As if she was afraid to admit what her mind had been repeating to her since the fall of Cintra, fearing that saying it would make it real. “What if magic only brings death and destruction?”

It was clear to the princess that Ciri was referring to her own powers. She didn't need to know her too well —or even know the details of her powers— to understand, she could see it in the tears that had gathered in her eyes. It broke his heart to see the little girl in that state. She was just a child, it wasn't fair that she had such dark thoughts clouding her mind at that young age. Fate had been very cruel to her, taking away her family and home in a single act of terrible violence that she had had to witness without being able to do anything to prevent it. Not only that, but now she had to face her future and the development of her powers with no one to guide her. No child should have to go through something like that. All she wanted to do at that moment was to hug Ciri and tell her that there was nothing wrong with her, to assure her that everything would be alright and that her life would get better. But before she could even utter a word, a strange sound echoed throughout the forest, distracting her attention from the girl.

Her gaze instinctively searched for Geralt, who was already alert. His eyes searched the surroundings as his hand slowly approached the handle of the sword resting on his back. She felt Ciri's hand squeeze hers and returned her gaze to the girl. She was met with her expression of terror, which only got worse as the rumbling of what could only be described as a deafening shriek was heard.

“Geralt!” The woman called his name, hoping he would give some sort of explanation for what was happening.

Though he didn't need to say anything, because at that instant a figure came into view in the distance. It was a monster, but not one like anything she had ever seen or read about. It was large, with multiple legs and eyes, and a long tail that ended in a sharp point. It was like a strange, disgusting mix between a scorpion and a centipede, a large creature that towered tall above them. It stood still for a moment, keeping a relative distance, as if searching for something specific. The princess pushed Ciri behind her, instinctively seeking to protect her. The creature shrieked again and Geralt pulled out his sword.

“Run!” He commanded them before advancing towards the beast with his sword held high.

The princess hesitated for a second, feeling the need to reach out to him to help him, but Ciri tugged on her hand and reminded her that she needed hisprotection. They ran through the forest holding hands, helping each other keep their balance when they stumbled due to their nerves. She tried to keep Ciri safe, positioning herself a few steps behind her to protect her from a possible surprise attack with her own body. From time to time she looked behind, searching the horizon for the figure of Geralt or that monster to know in which direction to flee. But it was difficult to follow the fight when she was also worried about looking after Ciri. She needed some sort of vantage point that would allow her to observe the enemy so she could prepare for its attack.

“Is it gone?” the girl asked in fright as she tried to catch her breath. They had stopped momentarily when they saw that the monster was no longer at their heels. They couldn't hear it screeching either, so they thought maybe Geralt had taken care of it.

“I don't know.” she answered honestly, pushing Ciri against a tree to hide in case he came back. “I don't see Geralt anywhere.”

“Should we go back to look for him?”

“No, that's too dangerous... we need to get to higher ground.”

Before she could say another word, the beast made its presence known again. It came out of nowhere, screeching and moaning, no doubt hurt by the witcher. But in spite of that, it rushed towards the direction of the two princesses with the same voracious determination. Ciri screamed and grabbed the hand of the woman at her side to start running once more, but she stayed in place.

There was no sign of Geralt anywhere and given the amount of legs that beast had, it was clear that they couldn't outrun it. Ciri wouldn't be able to escape from there without someone to give her a head start.

“Run north, up the hill and hide there. Don't look back!” she ordered and the girl looked at her with confusion.

“What about you?”

“I'll come look for you, but I need to buy you some time to run.” She explained quickly, keeping her eyes on the beast that was getting closer and closer to them. “Go, Ciri! Now!”

The girl hesitated, finding the scene all too familiar. The number of times she had had to leave someone behind to save her life was more than she would like. It never ended well and she felt responsible for all the lives that had been sacrificed to get her there. She hoped Geralt's friend wouldn't join the list, she didn't know if she could tolerate one more death on her conscience.

As soon as Ciri started to run, she concentrated on attacking the monster that was chasing them. She moved out of the girl's way, seeking to draw the beast's attention to her to distract it. But to her surprise, it didn't seem to care. It continued on its way in the direction of Ciri as if she were not in that forest. And if it wasn't because she invoked the sign of Aard the beast probably wouldn't have bothered to attack her. It was clear that its target was Ciri, although she could not understand the reason.

She used what little knowledge she had of magic outside of healing to attack the monster. She relied on the Quen sign to protect herself when the beast came too close, just as Geralt had taught her. And she summoned Aard's power to throw the beast away from her, slamming it into every tree and rock she could find in hopes the impact would stun it and give her a chance to escape. She put up a good fight, but it was clear that she couldn't beat him with her limited skills.

Luckily, she didn't have to. Geralt appeared just in time to save her, crossing his sword with the beast's pointed tail before it could hurt her. They shared a simple, quick glance, but that was enough for them to communicate. Geralt's eyes assured her that he would take care of the beast and asked her to protect Ciri. She nodded to him, letting him know that the girl's safety was her priority before running after her.

It didn't take her long to find Ciri, she knew that forest like the back of her hand. She was hiding in the bushes, ready to attack anything that came near her. The girl almost hit her in the stomach with a log when she approached her hiding place, fearing it was an attacker coming to hurt her. She stopped just in time though, wide eyes looking at the woman in front of her with surprise. She hadn't expected to see her there —not after learning the fate of all those who had stayed behind to give her a chance to escape danger—, but she was glad she was all right. Ciri felt safer with her by her side.

“Where is Geralt?” asked Ciri worriedly, looking behind the woman's back for her protector's white mane.

“He's fine.” she assured her, approaching the edge of the hill to look down for movement that would indicate Geralt's whereabouts. But she saw nothing. Nor did she hear the shrieks of the beast pursuing them. All was quiet, almost too quiet. It gave her a bad feeling. “Come on, we have to keep moving.” She indicated to Ciri, taking her by the hand once more.

But before they could get more than a couple of steps away, the monster reached them, cornering them against some rocks and the ledge. It was so sudden, that the princess could do nothing more than create a protective energy field, enveloping her and Ciri's figure in a semi-transparent whitish bubble that kept the beast away from them. She pushed the girl behind her and told her to prepare to run when she gave the signal. Ciri protested, refusing to let her face the beast alone, but she assured her that she would be fine. The truth was that she didn't know, but she had no choice but to stand between the monster and the girl it so desperately sought to attack. She was going to fight to her last breath to protect it because it was the right thing to do —and because it was what Geralt expected of her.

However, her countdown only reached two before a sword pierced the beast's body. It let out a shriek of pain and tried to lunge at its attacker, but Geralt plunged his sword even deeper, giving it one last thrust before withdrawing it to let the creature bleed out. The beast collapsed to the ground, spreading a viscous dark green liquid oozing from its mortal wound onto the earth. It writhed a couple of times until it stopped moving, signaling that life had left its body.

The princess let out a sigh of relief, breaking the energy field now that it was safe for Ciri. The relief didn't last long, however, because Geralt collapsed next to the beast, dropping his sword with a loud clang. She and Ciri ran to him, calling his name with concern. He was still conscious when they knelt beside him, though he looked weak.

“Let me see.” she asked when she noticed Geralt squeezing his thigh with one hand. He moved it, allowing her to inspect the wound closely.

There was a tear in his pants and beneath it the skin of the witcher's thigh was swollen and reddened. There was a puncture wound that leaked drops of blood mixed with a thick black liquid. Making a closer inspection, she noticed the small black lines branching out, veins standing out on his skin as they slowly began the work of spreading the poison through his system.

“Fuck!” she muttered under her breath as she tore a piece of the skirt from her dress.

“What?” Ciri asked worriedly, watching as she tied the piece of cloth around Geralt's thigh, just above his wound, and tied a tight knot that caused the witcher to groan in pain. “What is it?”

“Poison.” she replied simply, picking up Geralt's sword from the ground and using it to cut the stinger from the tail of the monster lying lifelessly beside him. Then, she removed her cloak and used it to wrap the tail in it, making sure it was safe to carry without coming into contact with the poison the stinger held. If this was a new monster —or at least, one she didn't know about— she was sure that having the direct source of the poison would be of vital importance to save Geralt's life.

“We need to get him back home. Now.”

Luckily, Geralt was still lucid enough to walk. The slow beating of his heart and the tourniquet she had improvised with part of her dress helped keep the poison from spreading through his body quickly, but it still needed to be treated urgently. Ciri helped her carry him, each of them putting one of Geralt's arms around their shoulders and holding him tightly to help him move with more ease and speed. They were not far from the hut, but it was not easy to travel with Geralt in that state, so it took them longer than usual to get there.

Once home, the princess settled Geralt on the bed, just as she had done so many times in the past, before running to get her potions and ointments to treat the wound. Ciri sat beside him on the bed, looking at her protector with concern as he mumbled in pain. She noticed that the wound on his leg was getting worse with each passing second and for a moment she was afraid that something bad was going to happen to him. She couldn't lose him, not after going through so much to find him. Geralt was the only thing she had left, her only hope, she couldn't lose him.

“Ciri, could you help him drink this?” The woman asked, handing her a small glass vial with a yellowish green liquid inside. The girl was grateful to have been entrusted with a task, something she could do that would help her feel her presence was useful. “It will help his body battle the effects of the poison.”

Ciri took the bottle with one hand and Geralt's head with the other, lifting him slightly off the bed so he could drink the potion. While she brought the bottle to his lips, the princess tended to the wound on his leg. First she carefully washed it, using warm water and a clean cloth to remove the blood and drops of poison that remained on the skin. Then, she spread an ointment of her own creation on the wound while uttering an incantation in the ancient tongue.

She concentrated all her energy on him, repeating the incantation with increasing strength and conviction. She was treating it as she would any wound infected with poison, but the reality was that she didn't know if that would work. The creature that had attacked him was new to her, so she didn't know if its poison would respond to conventional treatments. So she devoted all her energy to him in the hope that it would be enough to save him. And while arranging some herbs on the wound before bandaging it, she prayed to the gods that her beloved would wake up.

Geralt heard her sweet voice in the distance, and felt the warmth of her fingers brushing the skin of his leg. He tried to let himself be carried away by the warm energy that she transmitted to him, to drown the pain he felt in the peace that her voice awakened in him. He tried to concentrate on her so as not to faint, clinging to the scent of her skin and the melody in her voice as if his life depended on it. But even his stubbornness and unwavering willpower were not enough to combat the effects of the poison. And though he fought against it, eventually his eyes closed and everything went black.

The last thing he heard before he slipped into unconsciousness was the sweet voice of his sunshine telling him, “rest.”

Ciri did not move from Geralt's side. She insisted on taking care of him and controlling how his condition was progressing while the princess investigated the stinger she had extracted from the beast. She began by extracting some of the venom that was still inside it, being very careful not to let it come into contact with her skin while she transferred it to a glass vial. She did some tests with it, studying how it reacted when in contact with different herbs and medicinal plants, as well as some of the potions she had in her catalog. None of the results she got were what she expected, so she began to worry. Maybe this thing was different after all. Maybe she couldn't save him this time.

“I think something is wrong!” Ciri suddenly exclaimed, breaking her concentration. The princess didn't ask her any more follow-up questions, she simply followed her into the room and approached Geralt to examine him.

He was definitely not looking like he should. He had been resting for a few hours, yet his physical appearance had worsened. He looked paler than usual and his breathing was irregular. A thin layer of sweat adorned his skin, and when she reached up to touch his forehead she discovered that it was hot.

“This is wrong.” she muttered to herself, undoing the bandage so she could examine the progress of the wound on his leg.

“What's wrong? What's going on?” Ciri questioned the woman, desperate to hear her professional opinion.

Lifting the bandage, she discovered that the wound had only worsened. The skin was swollen and hot to the touch, and the black veins stood out even more against the pale skin, extending until they were lost under the tourniquet that was still tight around the witcher's leg. “He's getting worse...” she murmured, concern and confusion mingling in her voice. “He's not responding to the treatment.”

“There must be something we can do!” Ciri insisted and the woman looked at her, not knowing what to say. She didn't know of any other ways to treat a wound as such, at least not ways that weren't pure legends. She could always research and try some alternative method, but she wasn't sure she had enough time for that.

“Kaer... Morhen...” Geralt stammered weakly, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Vesemir will know what to do.”

She just gave Ciri a look and the girl ran off to the stable to prepare the horses for the journey. She stayed behind with Geralt, grabbing a couple of her remedies and the beast's tail before carrying the witcher on her shoulder once more, dragging him with some difficulty to the door. When Roach saw the state his owner was in, she lay down on the ground to allow him to climb onto her back more easily. She gave the mare a few gentle pats and kind compliments before helping Ciri mount Brego, the horse she had personally raised after finding him badly injured and forgotten on a road. Once the girl was safe and settled, she mounted Roach behind Geralt, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place as she took the reins and they set off.

She didn't know the exact road to Kaer Morhen, only that it was south of where she lived. She had a few clues that gave her more details from the stories Geralt had told her about his life, but that was all. She had never asked him much about it, she knew that after being attacked the witchers kept to themselves and she didn't want to pressure him to reveal those details. She thought that maybe, if someday he felt comfortable enough with her to tell her about his home, he would. But now she was regretting not being more nosy.

Geralt was going in and out of consciousness, so while he could give directions from time to time, he was not the most reliable source. Ciri also didn't know the way since she had never been there before. However, Roach was a very smart horse who had traveled those roads many times in the past. So when they came to a crossroads, the mare advanced along the left-hand path with confidence. And before they knew it, they had reached Kaer Morhen.

“We need help!” she shouted and a middle-aged, white-haired man ran to meet her, startled by the commotion. His eyes fell on Geralt and she noticed the concern in them as he reached out a hand to touch the witcher's forehead.

“What happened?”

“He was attacked by a creature. He's been poisoned and I don't know how to stop it from spreading.”

“Get him inside!” At his command, a group of men grabbed Geralt and carried him inside. The young woman grabbed Ciri, holding the girl against her body so as not to lose her as she very timidly followed the others.

Both she and Ciri refused to leave Geralt, so Vesemir —the name given to them by the man who received them— had to work under the watchful eye of the two. He asked them about the attack and the young healer explained as best she could the details of the beast that had chased them. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to discover that an experienced witcher like Vesemir didn't seem to know what kind of creature she was describing.

“This may help.” She said, pulling the beast's tail covered in an old cloth from her bag. “I tested the poison against every plant and healing element I know of and nothing seems to work.”

“That's not the only problem.” the man said, gesturing for her to come closer. “You see this inflammation here? It's full of the creature's venom.” Vesemir lightly pressed the lump on Geralt's skin and a couple of black drops escaped from the puncture wound. “The venom is lodging there for some reason, spreading slowly to maximize the damage. No treatment is going to work until we extract it.”

“How can I help?”

“Hold him still.”

Vesemir rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a leather bag containing a couple of syringes, needles and other useful artifacts for healing a witcher's wounds. He took the middle syringe, with a relatively long needle, disinfected it and then rested his gaze on the young woman in a silent way of telling her to get ready. She nodded slightly, tightening her grip on Geralt's leg to make sure he didn't move it. Vesemir then inserted the needle into the wound very carefully. It was important that he didn't accidentally burst the bubble of poison that had been created under the skin or it might end up spreading faster.

Geralt mumbled in pain and his body twisted as Vesemir began to extract the poison, but the young woman kept a firm grip on him. And when that wasn't enough to keep him still, she resorted to talking to him, just as she always did when he showed up injured on her doorstep. She murmured sweet words of encouragement and her soft voice seemed to be enough to bring peace to the witcher. His body stopped writhing and his rapid breathing gradually calmed down.

When Vesemir finished extracting the poison, the young woman watched in horror as the dark liquid almost filled the syringe. She wondered how that beast had been able to inject so much poison in such a short time and worried about Geralt's condition. How much poison had made it through his system? She liked to think not too much since he was still breathing, but the amount of viscous liquid trapped in the syringe worried her. Vesemir didn't seem particularly worried, but she wasn't sure she could read the expert witcher's emotions as easily as she could read Geralt's.

She watched him rummage through a cabinet full of elixirs until he came across a dark-colored one. He ripped off the cap with his teeth and poured some of the contents on the wound on Geralt's leg, who groaned in pain but did not open his eyes. Then he passed the bottle to her.

“Make him drink this.” Vesemir instructed him before disappearing out the door.

The young woman was assisted by Ciri in the task. The little girl helped her hold Geralt's head high enough so that he would not choke on the liquid while she parted his lips and placed the spout of the bottle between them. The witcher coughed a little as the liquid touched his throat, but it was only for a moment.

“It's alright, you're alright... everything is going to be fine.” She murmured words of encouragement as she emptied the elixir down his throat, though she wasn't entirely sure to whom she was directing such phrases, Geralt or herself.

When Vesemir returned, two other witchers accompanied him. At the man's request, they took Geralt and led him to his quarters to rest.

“Is he going to be alright?” a very worried Ciri asked as she watched the weak and fainting body of her only protector being carried away.

“Only time will tell. The next few hours are critical, if he makes it through the night I'm sure he'll make a full recovery.” Vesemir was honest, perhaps a little bit more than he should have been with a girl like Ciri. He was already busy analyzing the extracted poison and the tail of the beast that had attacked and almost ended the life of one of the best witchers left on the continent, so he didn't realize the impact of his words on her until he turned and met the expression of fear and worry on the girl's face.

“Geralt is strong, he's not going down without a fight. I've seen him pull through worse things.” He tried to reassure her. “You are invited to stay here, if you are friends of Geralt you are always welcome. Although I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you, I have to study this thing in case Geralt's condition gets worse.”

“I can stay with him.” The young woman offered. “Keep an eye on him and call you if anything feels off.”

“Sure, that will be of much help. Thank you. Just ask one of the boys to guide you to Geralt's chambers.”

The young healer was very interested in learning about the elixirs and other things Vesemir had in that room. Some things she could recognize, some she had an idea of what they were and some were completely new. She was a curious person, especially when it came to her area of expertise, so she had a million questions to ask Vesemir. She would have loved to stay and see what tests he conducted on the poison and what things he looked for in the animal's severed tail. But her priority now was Geralt. She needed to know that he was okay and she wouldn't rest until she saw him open his eyes again. So she took Ciri's hand and headed for the door, but not before thanking Vesemir for the hospitality.

At first Geralt thought he was dreaming. His eyelids felt heavy and he was disoriented. The world around him was a blur and he could hear a ringing in his ears. He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there, and the harder he tried to recall any images of the last few hours, the more difficult it became. It was like trying to remember a dream, the blurred and confused images escaping from his mind as he struggled to capture them. Yet somehow, in the midst of the chaos that was his mind at that moment, he found her. She was lying next to him, curled in on herself in the small space on the bed that he did not occupy. Her beautiful, delicate face was partially covered by her hair, but he didn't need to see it to know she was asleep. He found her before anything else, a beacon of clarity in the midst of the darkness clouding his mind. Only then, his mind decided to cooperate, recognizing images and patterns around him that helped make sense of where he was.

And yet, Geralt remained focused on her. If the dizziness didn't make him feel like in a dream, seeing her like that, so relaxed and peaceful next to him, definitely did. It was a scene that almost didn't seem real after a long year of distance and yearning. It was a sight he hadn't had in a year, her curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully next to the warmth of his body. There was no weird tension in the air or unspoken discomfort like that other night. She genuinely looked comfortable and calm next to him and Geralt couldn't help but smile.

But beyond that, her figure sleeping next to him was a beautiful sight he had never had the pleasure of having in his own home. Their encounters always occurred outside, in the maelstrom of the real world or in the calm of her hut in the forest, but never in his home. Geralt had awakened many mornings with the young woman in his arms, but none had been in his own bed, covered by his own blankets, hidden in the safety of his own room. He discovered then that he liked the feeling of sharing that space with her. It made everything he felt for her feel more real. It made his longing to stay by her side seem more feasible. She was there with him, caring for him and keeping him company, and the world seemed right again.

Geralt tried to sit up in order to better admire her beauty, but instantly regretted it when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. He let out a low grunt, bringing his hand to the bandage wrapped around his thigh with a grimace of confusion. Then flashes of the last few hours overwhelmed his mind. He remembered fighting the monster that chased them in the forest. He remembered the sharp sting of its tail and the burn of its venom. He remembered Ciri's worried look and reaching Kaer Morhen. But most of all, he remembered the gentle touch of his healer on his fevered skin and the sweet sound of her voice lulling him to peace as she always did. Her voice echoed in his mind and the mere memory seemed to be enough to silence the ringing in his ears and ease the pain in his weak and tired body. That didn't surprise him, though. Geralt had long since ceased to be amazed by the effect she had on him. He had learned to accept it, just as he accepted the day turning to night or the winter turning to spring. She was his light, a warm sun on the first day of the equinox that lengthened the day and melted the ice to allow the fields to bloom. She was his sunshine and he realized now that he had spent the last year living in an eternal winter to which he never wished to return.

The movement of the bed beside him brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He leaned over just in time to see his princess open her eyes as she stretched slightly. He could admire the confusion in her expression for a few brief seconds as her sleep clouded mind struggled to figure out where she was. Then her eyes opened wide and her gaze fell upon him. He was glad to see a glint of joy in them at finding him awake and had to bite the inside of his lip to hold back the smile as he saw her jump up in bed.

“Geralt! Are you okay? How are you feeling?” She questioned him with a strange mixture of excitement and concern in her voice.

“As if I had died and was brought back.” He replied with his classic dry humor, though it wasn't that far from the truth. His injured leg still ached when he moved it and his muscles felt tired as if he had spent all night battling a striga.

“You're not that far off.” She shrugged, rising from the bed to pour him a glass of water. Geralt accepted it gladly, drinking the contents in a couple of long sips. Boy was he thirsty!

“How long was I out?”

“Considering you've been in and out of consciousness since the attack, I'd say almost two days.” Geralt was surprised by that answer. In his mind it had only been a couple of hours, but apparently he remembered less than he thought.

Then, Ciri's worried face presented itself in his mind. “Ciri!” He exclaimed, jerking upright. He regretted moving once more, though, when the pain forced him to let out a grunt.

“She's alright!” The young woman hastened to say as she helped Geralt sit up. She took the pillows and stacked them carefully against his back, giving him a softer surface to lean on. Then she helped him recline on them, taking advantage of the moment of proximity to run her hand over his forehead and check for fever. “She's sleeping in the room next door.” She explained as she arranged the blankets so he wouldn't be cold. She knew he had grown up there and was probably used to the cold temperatures, but boy was the witchers' lair cold! “That girl refused to leave your side! I had to fight her to get her to go to sleep. She wanted to be here when you woke up, but I didn't want her here in case...” she trailed off. In case he didn't wake up was what she was going to say, but she couldn't bring herself to utter those words. Although she didn't have to, Geralt knew it when he noticed the sudden sadness that flashed across her face. “Anyway, I had to promise her that she would be the first one I would look for when you woke up to get her to go to sleep. And even then she stayed for another hour here.”

Geralt laughed, that sounded like Ciri. “Thank you... for keeping her safe.”

A silence formed as she took it upon herself to check his vitals. His breathing seemed normal, the same with his pulse —well, normal for a witcher. He no longer had a fever and when she uncovered the wound on his leg she noticed that the skin around it was in better condition. There were no more black lines or reddened areas. It was still somewhat swollen, but the skin was no longer warm to the touch, which was a good sign. Geralt enjoyed feeling her hands on his body, traveling from his forehead to his cheeks and gently brushing the skin of his leg. He swore the warmth of her fingers was all he needed to make the pain in his body go away. He felt a little more alive with every caress, every accidental touch. The magic of her touch slowly melted the hard layer of ice that had formed around him after a long year of harsh winter, but this time Geralt didn't fight it. He wanted her to do it, he wanted her light to finally allow spring to come. He was done running away from her.

“I'm sorry,” she said in a soft, almost inaudible voice as she changed the bandage on his leg. “I should have done more to help you... I just... I didn't know what to do.”

It took Geralt a few seconds to understand what she was saying, not because of the low volume of her voice, but because he found it incredible to hear the guilt in her words. “You saved me.” He pointed out as if it were obvious and she let out a snort.

“You almost died because of me!”

“I almost died because I was too slow and I got attacked by an unknown creature. I didn't expect you to know what to do, even I wouldn't have known what to do. But you brought me here in time and you keep Ciri safe, that's all that matters.”

The young woman smiled, not as big of a smile as Geralt had hoped, but enough to know that his words did have some sort of effect in easing the guilt that for some reason he didn't understand, she felt for what had happened. “That's nice of you to say.”

“It's the truth.”

“Whatever,” she said as she put away her leather case of ointments and healing potions. When she sat back down on the bed, Geralt noticed she had a nervous look on her face. “I would like to stay here with you and help you get back on your feet. I feel like I owe you that. It wouldn't be for too long, I mean, you had a great recovery so far and I'm sure you'll be alright, but I wouldn't feel right leaving you before I know for sure that you're okay... I know this place is... special, I guess, and that you don't let many outsiders in... and I wouldn't want to intrude, but I just couldn't leave without making sure you're okay.”

Geralt found her nervous rambling adorable. He would like to say that the feeling she felt was unfounded, but after how he had treated her he understood why she would be uncomfortable talking about such a thing. The last time she had made an effort to bring their worlds together he had rejected her. And not only that, but he had completely disappeared from her life for a year. He completely understood her nervousness and felt terrible knowing it was his fault.

“I want you to stay.”

Those simple five words were enough to arouse a sense of joy she had not felt in a long time. Those were the words she had waited all this time to hear, the confirmation that Geralt was willing to share some of his world with her after all. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel somewhat special. She knew that not many people had the privilege of walking through the gates of Kaer Morhen not having been raised there and she felt honored to be one of those few. A small smile tugged at her lips and Geralt knew then that his words had had the desired effect.

“Besides, I think your presence can be a good influence on Ciri. You can help me guide her on the right path and keep her safe.”

“I'll try my best, but I don't know as much about magic as other mages.”

“That's not the only thing you can teach her.”

Geralt knew very well that she had not been professionally trained. She had never gone to Arethusa to have her talents molded and sharpened, but that wasn't important to him. Geralt valued her for more than her magical abilities, he always had. For him one of her best traits was her personality, her way of facing the world with courage and optimism. She was one of the strongest people he knew, and he wasn't sure she knew it. Ciri needed someone like her, someone who could guide her through the dark shadow of tragedy and loss that clouded her path to reach the side of light. He could give her the tools to defend herself and face her fears, but she could teach Ciri to see the world from another perspective, a more positive and joyful one, something she desperately needed.

“I think it will do her good to have someone like you around.” Geralt smiled, his hand reaching for hers on the blanket. He felt the energy coursing through his body as they touched, her warmth melting the ice around his heart. The atmosphere in the room changed, suddenly more intimate and special. He wanted to tell her that her company was good for him too, but regretted it at the last moment. He didn't want to overwhelm her or sweet-talk her into forgiving him. If she decided to stay by his side, he wanted it to be her own decision.

The moment was cut short when the bedroom door opened, revealing a freshly awakened Ciri. The girl's eyes lit up with joy as they met the figure of a very lucid Geralt sitting up in bed. She uttered his name in an exclamation of surprise and crossed the room in a matter of seconds to throw herself into his arms.

“Careful!” the young woman warned her, “He's still hurt.”

“You were supposed to call me!” Ciri ignored her, choosing to scold her for not waking her up.

“I was just about to come get you.” She laughed, stepping aside so the girl could sit next to Geralt on the bed. “But since you're here, I'll go let Vesemir know Geralt's awake so he can come take a look at him.”

Contrary to popular belief, witchers were capable of feeling human emotions. That was something the young woman already knew, although living in Kaer Morhen surrounded by the last remaining witchers on the continent allowed her to appreciate the degree of emotions they felt. They were a strong brotherhood and cared deeply for each other, as evidenced by the tree of the fallen, as she called it. A place where the medallions of all the witchers who had perished hung, with more being added with each passing winter. But besides that, she learned that they were quite a fun group. Perhaps it was because they were in the safety of their home, resting after long months of hard work, but their attitudes were not at all what she expected. They kept telling jokes and playing tricks on each other, admittedly rather ordinary for her taste in some cases, but they didn't fail to make her laugh.

They were respectful to her —she suspected Geralt had something to do with that—, but still made her feel welcome in their home. She found it interesting to be surrounded by the most intimidating and roughest looking men on the continent and feel as safe as she did in her own home. She was sure that if her first encounter with many of them had occurred outside the walls of Kaer Morhen, her opinion would be different. Just as when she first met Geralt, it was very likely that the imposing figure of the witchers would have intimidated her and it would have taken her a long time to discover that they were actually very nice people. Lambert and Coen were her favorites, their constant bickering always amused her greatly. Although sometimes she had to confront them to make them be nicer to poor Ciri. They were training her along with Geralt just as Vesemir had trained them and it was the woman's job to remind them that she was just a child.

Vesemir was very good to her as well. Not only had he not complained when Geralt announced that she would be staying with them, but he agreed to indulge her curiosity. He let her watch him work on the analysis of the tail of the monster that had attacked them, even asking for her assistance in some things. They did not reach any satisfactory conclusions, but it was interesting to participate in the process. She learned a lot about the witchers and their creation from Vesemir, as well as the elixirs that helped them on the battlefield. He was a very wise man, and she was honored that he trusted her with his knowledge.

However, her favorite thing was seeing Geralt so relaxed and free, laughing with his siblings and acting like a father to Ciri. It was a side of him she didn't know. Of course he laughed and had fun with her when they spent time together in her hut, but that was different. Their encounters were always filled with this... tension in the air, tainted with unspoken feelings and silent longings. It was a constant countdown, the black cloud of reality always near no matter how hard they both tried to ignore it. From the moment Geralt walked through the door of her home, she knew that the clock had started ticking and that the happiness that was invading her at that moment would come to an end sooner or later. But there was no such thing in Kaer Morhen. There was no rush and no time, so Geralt could relax and be himself. And thanks to that she had discovered a much more... playful and joyful side of him. And she loved it.

What she also loved was the nickname that others had for him. The first time someone had called him wolf, she thought she had heard wrong. They were eating at a table all together and the shouting made it hard to even hear Ciri sitting next to her. But the next time it happened there was no noise to block her hearing. She and Geralt were in the kitchen since this time it was his turn to prepare dinner. He had gone hunting in the morning and now he was in charge of skinning the animal for her to cook. She didn't pay much attention to the conversation Geralt had with Vesemir when he appeared in the kitchen, focused on cutting the vegetables for the stew without hurting her fingers. But her ears pricked up when she heard him utter that nickname.

Wolf

The word echoed in her mind for a while, drowning out whatever was going on around her as she cooked. It was a fitting nickname for Geralt now that she thought about it. Everything about him screamed wolf, both externally and internally. Beyond his imposing presence, great hunting skills and impressive agility, he often hid behind a cold and hostile appearance. When he entered a room he could evoke the same fear and respect in people who did not know him that a wild wolf evoked in a traveler who stumbled upon it unexpectedly on his journey. The witchers had a certain reputation among the common people, built on myths and lies long spread across the continent. And while they were not true, Geralt found them convenient. It was easier to travel the world when people feared him —at least, most of the time. But that cold attitude was a sham, a shield protecting who he really was. He liked to present himself as a lone wolf who didn't need anyone, but in reality he cared about people, especially those closest to him. And just like a wolf protecting his pack, Geralt was willing to do anything to care for those he loved the most. Sometimes she thought that was exactly why he decided to stay away from people. He cared too much and that could be terrifying, not only because of the state of vulnerability it left him in, but also because of the degree of atrocities he would be willing to commit to protect his own.

“Wolf, huh?” She muttered as Vesemir left. She discovered she liked the nickname even more as she uttered it aloud. It was sweet and it felt good to finally have something to fight back with when he called her sunshine. “I like it,” she smiled, ”It suits you.”

“How so?” Geralt arched an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a rag before taking a few steps towards her. The woman pushed aside the knife she held in her hands, looking up to stare at the witcher.

“Well, you're imposing and agile as one... you're incredibly observant and great at hunting... and you're willing to fight tooth and nail to protect your own.” She spoke thoughtfully, listing characteristics as they came to mind. Geralt admired her with a slight grimace of amusement, thinking how much he missed having those kinds of conversations with her. “You're like a big scary white wolf who acts all tough but that's all for show, lots of bark and little bite.”

Geralt let out a snort. “It is?” he inquired and she nodded, even though she knew it wasn't technically true. He was quite capable of actually following through on his threats when he made them, but it was much more fun for her to tease him about his soft side.

“Yes! I mean, it took me a couple of weeks to earn your trust and then you were rolling over and showing me your belly like a dog asking for pets.”

Geralt let out a sarcastic laugh, but the truth was he couldn't quite say anything to contradict her. He wished he could wipe the smug smile off her face, but she was right, he had taken a liking to her rather quickly. And worst of all, it had happened without him noticing until it was too late. He became accustomed to her company — to wake up to the sound of her voice and listen to the sweet melody of her laughter— to such an extent that when she was gone the world felt wrong. He could not pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with her, one day she was a frightened girl asking for his help in the forest and the next she was the ray of sunshine that brightened his days. Just like that, without warning, she had made a place in his heart that she refused to give up no matter how hard he tried to push her away.

“But it's okay, I like that duality.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You're my big, scary, but surprisingly gentle white wolf.”

The young woman smiled tenderly as she used her fingers to push a lock of hair away from Geralt's face. It was an unconscious thing, a movement engraved in the memory of her muscles after having done it so many times in their long nights of conversations. When she realized it, she felt the urge to move her hand away, embarrassed by her audacity. Their relationship was in a very gray area, things were not clear at all. She was no longer angry with him, but things between them had not yet returned to normal, so the intimate gesture seemed out of place.

Or at least that's what she thought until she saw the way Geralt leaned over her hand. It was probably an unconscious movement as well, but she used the moment to test the waters. She let her fingers trail along his temple, slowly making their way down to his cheek. She did not dare to look him in the eye, so she focused her gaze on the movement of her hand, admiring the marks and scars that adorned the witcher's skin. She noticed that there were a couple that were new and couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind them. What kind of adventures had he had while he was distanced from her? What monster could have caused those injuries? How had he healed them? Had it been him or maybe it was someone else's work? Had someone else taken her place in the time that had passed?

She didn't like where her thoughts were going, so she covered the marks with her fingers, cradling Geralt's cheek. Then she mustered up the courage and looked up, curious as to what might be going through his mind at that moment. She found the witcher's golden eyes were fixed on her, admiring her with longing and, dare she say it, love. There was a warmth in his gaze that drew her to him. It made her feel seen in a way she hadn't felt since the moment he left. He was the only one who could make her feel that way, so safe, so desired... so loved. And he was the only one she wanted to look at her that way.

She didn't realize how much closer she had gotten to Geralt until she felt his nose brush against hers. His warm breath mingled with hers as it escaped her half-open lips, caressing them with the promise of that long-awaited kiss that never came. She wanted to move, to close the little distance that separated them and finally discover what it would feel like to kiss him, but it was impossible for her to do so. She was trapped under Geralt's intense gaze. Like a moth to the flame, she was lost in the golden glow of his eyes, waiting expectantly for his next move.

But the kiss never came. Only this time it wasn't because she backed down or because he regretted it at the last second as had happened in the past. This time it was Ciri's interruption that broke the moment and forced them apart.

“Lambert sent me to help you because he says you're taking too long so- OH! Sorry, sorry!” The girl blushed upon finding them in such a compromising position. She instinctively backed away, ready to run out the same way she had come, but the woman stopped her.

“It’s fine, Ciri! Stay, please. I’m definitely going to need some help cooking enough food to satisfy those gluttons out there.”

“Come on, focus! I know you can do it.” The woman tried to encourage the girl, who was having trouble generating any kind of magical reaction from the moment they had started the lesson.

She didn't know much about magic outside of healing, so that was her starting point. From what Geralt had told her about Ciri, the girl had much more power than she did, so she figured that teaching her to channel her magic in one aspect gave her enough tools to begin to control other aspects of her powers. She began with easy lessons, remembering the things her mentor had taught her when they were just starting out. She had previously told her about the potions she made and the type of plants she needed for each as a way of easing her way into things. But several lessons ago she had moved on to more complicated things that involved more active use of her powers.

They were sitting in the common room, near the fire. It was a cold day, though that hadn't stopped Ciri from going out to train with her wooden sword. Geralt was the one who had to drag her inside to meet the healer for her magic lessons, and she didn't seem very enthusiastic about it. For that very reason she had given the girl a relatively simple exercise, the same one they had been practicing for two lessons. In a pot was a dried plant. Its stems were still green in some places, but much duller, and the leaves were withering more and more with each passing day. The goal they were working towards was to revive the plant, although she would settle for any kind of progress. The woman remembered that the same exercise had taken her quite some time, so she showed patience to Ciri. But on the other hand, the girl was supposed to have much more power than she did, so she was slightly concerned about the lack of response.

Ciri snorted. “I'm trying! It's not easy.” It was clear that she was frustrated but she had to keep pushing if she wanted to get any kind of reaction from her.

“Not hard enough!”

She was not referring to Ciri's efforts in her lessons, it was clear that she gave everything she could. The problem was that she always arrived tired, if she arrived at all. She wasn't giving her magical training the attention it deserved, preferring the sword and the training ground outside to mastering her natural abilities. She understood it to an extent, it was easier to train the body than the mind, but she needed to see how important it was to learn to manage her powers. Those were the ones that would be with her for the rest of her life, the ones that could save her in a situation of extreme danger, and she needed to know how to use them to her advantage.

“You're focusing too much on learning how to fight when this is just as important.”

“Maybe I am because at least that's where I'm making progress.”

“I know it's hard, Ciri, but you have a responsibility. Your powers are something extraordinary, but you owe it to yourself and everybody around you to learn how to control them.” Her voice was not accusatory or dismissive. On the contrary, she made an effort to sound soft and empathetic. She wanted to make the girl understand the importance of her lessons and knew she would not succeed by making her angry. Besides, she knew very well how frustrating it could be when things didn't go as expected, she had gone through that too when she was the one learning to handle her powers.

However, Ciri didn't take it as kindly as she had hoped. “What do you know about responsibility? You abandoned your own people! At least I'm trying to fight to avenge mine!” The girl raised her voice, jumping up from her seat and giving her mentor an angry look.

“Ciri!” Geralt, who was sitting in the corner of the room fixing his armor, wanted to intervene. However, the woman waved him to stand aside. She understood that it was misplaced anger and didn't need him to jump in for her.

“It’s fine. You are right, Ciri. I abandoned my own people because it wasn’t a safe place for me… or anyone like me, if I’m being honest. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make… Realizing that my own home wasn’t safe for me was heartbreaking, but strangely liberating.” The girl's gaze softened and she resumed her place beside her. “I was trapped in that place, surrounded with people that hated me for who I was, for things I couldn’t control. My own parents thought I was a disgrace… they hid me, silence me, broke my spirits in the hopes I wouldn’t become my great grandmother. And for the longest time I let that get into me. I let them define who I was. I hated myself and my powers because everyone else did… and the more I tried to ignore them, the more I tried to suppress them, the worse they got. I had to learn to let go, to stop focusing on the negative things because it was doing me no good.”

Ciri looked at her with glazed eyes, the anger in her expression slowly morphing into sadness. “How do you do it?” her voice was almost a whisper that broke the woman's heart. She could hear so much pain in those simple words that she couldn't help but reach out to entwine her hand with hers. Suddenly, the girl's inner struggle was evident on her face. She could feel the sadness and weariness that overwhelmed her. She had been through so much at such a young age, it wasn't fair. “I can't let it go.”

“You don't have to… you just have to take control of yourself and stop letting your fear and anger control you.”

“How can I do that when everyone I love is dead… when everywhere I go I bring blood and destruction?”

“You make a choice about who you want to be because you are the only one that has the power to do that, to define yourself.” The woman moved a little closer to Ciri, lightly tightening her grip on her hand in support. “You see, magic is extremely connected to our emotions, to our most instinctive reactions. If you see it as a bad thing, as a burden, a curse… if you see yourself as a monster, a murderer that can only create chaos and destruction, then you are letting your fear define who you are. You are limiting your abilities and the chance to explore your potential.”

“How are you so sure that I'm not… a monster?”

A tear rolled down Ciri's cheek and the woman was quick to wipe it away with her thumb. She had to hold back her own tears, focusing on being a support for the girl at that moment. But she would be lying if she said she wasn't able to see herself in the frightened eyes of the young princess. She knew that fear very well, she had experienced it firsthand and that's why she wanted to help her overcome it. It was not fair that she was going through it, no one deserved to go through the horrors she had gone through at such a young age. Ciri was alone, homeless, without family, and forced to discover the terrifying foreign world at the same time she was discovering herself. It was an extremely vulnerable position to be in, but the witch would try her best to accompany her every step of the way. She didn't have to go through it all alone.

“Because nobody is born a monster.” The girl said with gentle simplicity, a sweet smile growing at the corner of her lips. “I grew up ashamed of who I was. My parents dreaded the day I was old enough to take over my kingdom. They couldn't wait to hand me over to the first nobleman who seemed competent enough, so that if one day I became unstable and dangerous because of my powers he could stop me from destroying everything they had worked so hard to build... No matter how hard I tried to make things right, they trusted a stranger more than their own daughter. Most of my childhood was clouded by this dark shadow of sadness and loneliness, until I realized that was exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to be afraid, to be alone and ashamed because then they could control me, mold me into whatever they wanted me to be. Choosing something else... choosing to be happy with who I am, choosing to help others and use my powers for good was a decision I had to make... it's a decision I make every morning when I wake up, and it's not an easy one. The easy thing is to be consumed and paralyzed by fear. Seeing the good in life and in yourself is a conscious decision that you have to make. It is one that only you can make, but I promise to be there for you when you need me. You don't have to be alone in this.”

Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms and she held her tight against her chest for as long as she needed. She buried one hand in the girl's blonde hair and gently rubbed her back with the other until she could no longer feel her sobs against her shoulder. Her eyes searched Geralt's with a worried expression. Ciri had so much bottled up inside her that suddenly the potential danger of her unexplored and uncontrolled magic ceased to worry her. However, when her eyes met the witcher's she found nothing but calm in them. He admired their embrace with a knowing smile and she knew then that he approved of the way she had handled the situation.

Seeing the way Ciri opened up to her, Geralt was glad he had asked for her help. Swallowing his pride had definitely been the right decision. The girl didn't just need protection. She needed guidance, support and an understanding that he, as much as he wanted to, could not give her. But his sweet sunshine could, she was always open to help whoever came to her door. Geralt knew from the start that he had to take Ciri with her, not just because of her knowledge of magic or her empathic abilities, but because she was the one he always turned to when he needed guidance or a reason to keep fighting. She had a way of brightening people up that was unique. He used to think it was part of her nature, her warm, positive personality that was finally able to shine through once she was out of the prison she used to call home. Although after hearing what she told Ciri, he realized that brightening others and making them feel at peace was an effort she made every day precisely because she knew the dangerously cold and dark depths to which the mind could descend when there was no such support.

“You can rest for now, my dear. It's fine, you have done enough for one day.” The sweet voice of his sunshine brought Geralt out of his thoughts. He watched as she patted Ciri's back as the little girl wiped away her tears.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it one more time.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, we can continue the lesson tomorrow after you have a good rest.”

Ciri insisted so she stepped aside to let her proceed. The girl took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm her emotions as her mentor had taught her. She raised her hands to the plant that withered with each day she failed and closed her eyes. She tried her best to quiet the voices that always echoed in her mind, the ones that scared her and held her back every time magic was mentioned. She erased the images of Cintra in flames, the figure of the dark knight chasing her and the horrors that followed her every time her powers were activated. She replaced those dark visions with her mentor's words of encouragement, repeating them over and over in her mind as a way of convincing herself that all would be well and that she had nothing to fear.

Then she felt a warmth tickling her fingers and heard the gasp of the woman sitting next to her. She opened her eyes instinctively, concern already written in her expression as she looked around for answers —and to make sure she hadn't hurt anyone. The woman smiled at her and motioned with her head to look at the potted plant resting on the table. The plant itself hadn't changed much. It still looked dry and dull, but the stems were a brighter green and some of the leaves had turned from dark orange to an almost greenish yellow.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” Ciri threw herself into her mentor's arms once again, only this time with a big look of happiness on her lips. When she pulled away, she took the pot in her hands to admire her work more closely. “Geralt, look! I did it! I finally did something!”

Geralt joined in the celebrations, giving Ciri a pat on the back and a few words of encouragement to let her know he was proud of her unbreakable spirit. She fit in so well with the rest of the witchers that he was starting to get a little scared. She was as stubborn and broken as most of them. But she was also as hard working and fierce as they were. He could see a lot of himself reflected in her, in fact. She had the same eagerness to go out and prove herself in the real world that both he and his brothers had when they were just starting their training. That same impatience that Vesemir had fought so hard to quell and that reality had finally destroyed. He had to keep an eye on that.

When the moment of euphoria was over, Geralt sent Ciri to rest. “You have done enough for one day” he told her and this time the girl disappeared up the stairs with a smile on her lips, happy to have proven herself.

“I was nice what you said to her.” Geralt spoke once he was sure Ciri could not hear them.

“I just told her what I wish someone would have told me when I was her age.”

“You never told me about it… what your parents did to you.”

“Well... it's a part of my life I don't like to remember often.” She shrugged, leaning her hips back against the table as she stared at a fixed point on the wall in front of her, lost in thought. Geralt admired her delicate profile, and with a heavy heart he wondered what kind of sad memories might be swirling through her mind at that moment. “Although, in a strange way, it made me who I am today, so I guess something good came out of all that shit in the end.” She also thought that thanks to her parents' mistreatment —and her consequent escape— her path had crossed Geralt's and she would always be grateful for that. However, she decided not to mention it.

“Just when I thought I couldn't love you anymore, I discover that your act of rebellion against the world that treated you horribly is to be the kindest, sweetest person on the continent.” Geralt let out a laugh, returning his attention to his half-repaired armor that had been left forgotten on the table. But she remained silent, frozen in place.

Geralt had not thought carefully before speaking —something that happened to him more often than he would like to admit when he was with her. He didn't even realize the implications of his words until it was too late. He just stated a fact, a simple fact that had been on his mind ever since he had overheard her talking to Ciri: finding out that after all the bad things she had been through she was still the sunshine she was, made him love her even more. Geralt had always known that she was a strong and extremely brave woman, but this was the first time he really knew the extent of that strength. He had seen honest men be consumed by resentment and hatred for far less, so the fact that she strove to be a source of light and positivity not only for herself but for everyone who crossed her path was a reason to admire her.

He was so entranced by her that he didn't notice what he said —what he inadvertently admitted— until a few seconds later, when he wondered at her sudden silence. When he looked up, he found her eyes fixed on him. Those beautiful eyes that normally brought him peace, now put his insides in knots. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Geralt was paralyzed. His mind was completely blank, not knowing what to do or say, as he waited for some sign from his sunshine.

“I-” She started to speak, but before she could say anything else the doors to the hall opened, ushering in a group of noisy witchers who had just come in from hunting for dinner.

After the moment was broken, neither she nor Geralt brought up the subject again. They both thought about it countless times, wondering in the nights before bed what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted. However, they were too afraid to face the situation, so they let the tension linger in the air, increasing with the growing list of unanswered questions.

Another great thing she had discovered about living in Kaer Morhen was that there was a pack of wolves nearby. The first time she had seen them was one afternoon walking around the fortress with Geralt. He hadn't let her get close, of course, claiming it was too dangerous since they were wild animals. That hadn't stopped her at the time and luckily it had never resulted in any injuries, but one never knew when their luck might change.

“That's why you're here,” she had replied, ”you'll save me if they try to eat me.”

“I don't know, will I?” He had joked in his characteristic dry tone. “If you get hurt after my warnings it is entirely on you.”

She snorted and punched him in the arm, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Of course you will! You can't live without me.” She had said that as a joke, but it was much closer to reality than she probably imagined. He was willing to do anything to keep her safe because he truly couldn't live without her. He had tried for a year and had been miserable every second he was away from her.

After having to drag her away from the wolves that day, Geralt really shouldn't have been surprised to find her playing with them weeks later. He knew her and the effect she tended to have on animals, but even so, he found it impressive the way the wolves reacted to her touch. She was sitting on the cold ground covered by a thin layer of snow. Next to her rested an adult wolf who closed his eyes with pleasure every time she stroked his head. In her lap a puppy let her scratch its belly, stretching out on her with every movement of her fingers as if preparing to take a long nap. In the distance the rest of the pack watched the two brave –or foolish— enough to approach a human, making sure they were safe.

She was speaking to them, Geralt could see in the distance that she was moving her lips, and hear the whisper of her voice on the wind, but he could not make out what she was saying —though he could almost imagine it, he had been through a few similar situations with her in the past. He was lost in thought as he admired her playing with the wild animals like they were mere domesticated dogs. A smile formed on his lips as he thought that at least he wasn't the only one completely enraptured by her aura, the entire animal kingdom joined him in that sentiment. Even his own horse loved her more than him. But he understood Roach, she was someone special and he had been lucky to cross her path.

“I see why you like her.” Vesemir's voice startled him, when had he arrived there? “She is a lovely woman.”

“She is indeed.” Geralt agreed without looking away from his princess, who was now laughing in amusement at something the wolf cub in her lap had done.

“Are you sure you're doing the right thing?” The older witcher spoke again and Geralt's brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. “Are you sure she is compatible with our way of living... with our life's mission? There's less of us every winter and something big is coming, I know it... I can lose you, wolf.”

Geralt was silent for a moment, contemplating Vesemir's words. The gods knew that he had asked himself that same question multiple times since he had met her. The answer always changed depending on his mood. Sometimes —especially when he spent a lot of time with her in her hut— he was sure that his future was at her side and that nothing could ever keep him away from her. Other times, when the pressures of reality forced him to abandon his fantasies, he recognized that their relationship was complicated at best and impossible at worst. But all that had changed after she was attacked by a Bruxa.

After failing to protect her that time he convinced himself that their relationship should end, not because it was incompatible with his life itself, but because he was too afraid of losing her. The images of that attack had not left his mind in the year he had spent away from her. It plagued his nightmares when he slept and his thoughts when he was awake. He was so horrified at the thought of losing her because he was unable to protect her from danger that he was willing to endure a life of misery just to make sure she was all right. In his experience, missing what could never be was better than mourning the loss of those who were gone and could never come back. So he endured the gray days and sleepless nights, finding comfort in knowing that his princess was safe and sound in her hut, far from the danger he represented.

Geralt had convinced himself that this was for the best because it was the simplest option, the clearest solution to his problem. Keep her safe by staying away from her and wait for the time to pass and help him forget about his feelings. But now he was not so sure. Maybe it was the thrill of being reunited with her after yearning to feel her touch for a year. Or maybe it was the optimism of his sunshine speaking through him, but Geralt was beginning to consider that maybe there was a future for them where neither of them had to suffer. It probably wouldn't be easy, but life's hardships hadn't stopped her before, so why should they stop him?

“We can make it work.” He finally said and for the first time since she had entered his life, Geralt felt a sense of certainty as he spoke those words.

Vesemir didn't answer him, although Geralt didn't give him much time to do so because seconds after those words left his mouth, he was walking towards her. When he approached her, the first thing she did was make excuses for what she was doing, expecting Geralt to scold her for not listening to his warnings. But he wasn't interested in that, he had far more important revelations to share with her.

“I know what you are going to say, it's dangerous and all that, but they came to me for help!” she hurried to say while petting the wolves to make sure Geralt's presence didn't disturb them. “This little one was hurt! I couldn't let him die, he's too adorable and fluffy! I saved his life and now they like me.”

“Do you remember what you told me when I arrived at your home with Ciri?” Geralt ignored her rambling. She looked up from the puppy gently nibbling her fingers to meet his eyes. He wasn't sure if the look of confusion on her face was due to his sudden question or because she didn't know the answer, so he continued speaking. “You wanted to know why it took me so long to come back... I've been thinking a lot about that, especially after hearing you talk to Ciri the other day.”

The woman rose on her feet from the cold ground, leaving the wolf pup next to his brother. “Geralt, what is this about?” she inquired, wide eyes watching him curiously and somewhat warily, like a deer startled by the presence of a noisy stranger.

“All my life, the one I remember at least, I’ve worked towards one goal and one goal alone… kill all monsters on the continent. It’s what I was trained to do and I never questioned it… I never wanted to do anything else, until I met you. What I feel for you…”

Geralt paused, struggling to find the right words to describe the way his day brightened with her mere presence, how his mood improved if he saw her smile.

“I never felt anything like that before,” he let out a sigh, resigned to the fact that he could never explain in simple words what she made him feel without even realizing it. “That scared me. I was scared of what it could mean for the future, but more importantly, I was terrified of losing you. So I convinced myself that running away from you, from what I felt, was the right thing to do to protect you and keep you safe from all the shit I bring along... Now I know I was just protecting myself. You tried to tell me, but I wasn't ready to listen.”

She took a step toward him, looking up at him with wide eyes that sparkled in the weak winter sun. “Geralt, what are you saying?” She needed to hear him say it. After so much time of feelings left unsaid, she needed to hear the words coming out of his mouth so there would be no more conflicts or misunderstandings. She needed to be sure of what he felt.

“I'm saying I'm sorry... I'm saying I love you and I want you at my side, If you still want me too.”

She replied in the most direct way she could without using words. With a quick step, she closed the distance that separated them and joined her lips to Geralt's. As much as she had longed for that kiss, it was a timid one. Her lips barely brushed his, their noses brushing against each other as they leaned in a soft, intimate caress. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth that flooded her body as she felt Geralt reciprocate her kiss immediately. Their lips moved slowly, savoring the moment. It didn't last long, but it was enough to take her breath away.

When they pulled apart, she looked up at Geralt through her eyelashes. She met the amber of his eyes shining in a way she had never seen before. His hand rested on her cheek, calloused fingers caressing the soft skin. It was nothing new, yet the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. There was a softness in his eyes that she did not recognize. He admired her as if she were a lost relic, something of priceless value that he couldn't believe he had in front of his eyes.

And in a way, that was true. Even though he had just bared his soul to her. Even though she had kissed him. Even though deep down, he always knew his feelings were reciprocated. Despite everything, Geralt still couldn't believe that a woman as wonderful as her would choose to love him. Of all the people on the continent, of all the places that existed, she loved him and wanted to be by his side. As happy as he was that she did, it didn't feel real. Geralt did not feel worthy of the love of such a good woman, but he was willing to work hard every day of his life so that she would not regret her decision.

Geralt was the one who initiated the second kiss, which was much more confident than the first. His hand remained on her cheek while the other found its place on her waist, holding her close against him. Her lips were soft and warm against his, like a summer morning breeze —just as he had imagined them. When he sucked on her lower lip, she let out the subtlest moan, her hands clinging to his shoulders for support. Geralt became addicted to it instantly, feeling a strange sense of pride at having elicited such a reaction from her. He repeated the action, taking a mental note of the way she reacted to every little movement of his lips. He was desperate to know more about her, to find out the other sounds she made and the various ways her body would respond to his touch, but he restrained himself from deepening the kiss any further. They would have time for that.

“That was...” She tried to speak when they broke apart, her mind clouded with euphoria struggling to find words to describe what that kiss made her feel.

“Late.” Geralt finished for her, resting his forehead on hers.

“I was going to say 'better than I imagined', but 'late' works too.” She let out a chuckle. “So, what now? How do we go on from here?” It was a genuine question she had. She had fantasized many times about this moment —the big confession, the first kiss, the way it would all feel—, but it never got any further. It felt so far away, so impossible, that she had never really spent time thinking beyond happily ever after.

“Well, we can start by getting you out of the cold.” Geralt smiled, finally pulling away from her to start his way back to the fortress. He took her hand and noticed how cold it felt against his own. “Come on, we need to get you inside so you can warm up.”

She smiled playfully. “Only if you help me.”

I hope you guys liked it! Sorry for the long wait, but it wil probably happen again lol

I have a few ideas for the next part. Without spoiling too much, I think it's time Yen makes an appearance to explain some of the gaps it the timeline when Geralt was away... so, lots of jealousy and angst coming!

BUT I'm not 100% sure of how thing are going to play out, so if you guys have any ideas of things you would like to see in the story (for this next part or future ones!) please drop an ask/message/comment thank youuu ily

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #the witcher x reader #geralt x reader #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt x fem reader #henry cavill x reader #the witcher

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soldiersslut · 5 months ago

Text

GHOST OF YOU — SOLDIER BOY "CHAPTER FOUR"

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Language, drug and alcohol use, sexual advances, canon-violence, violence towards reader, and Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy

Word Count: 4,611

Author's Note: Thank you so much again for all the love and support!

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED PLEASE LET ME KNOW. DON'T FORGET TO FOLLOW, HEART, AND REPOST. THANK YOU AGAIN!

You faced the consequences of yesterday’s event today in the morning. It ached for you to get up, and remembering who caused your pain made you huff. Although you did not appreciate being thrown against the wall by Soldier Boy he did save you. Speaking of the devil you wondered where he was, or Butcher and Hughie. The room you were in was unfamiliar, but recalled the team was going to crash at Legend’s apartment.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket and noticed it was early in the morning. Yet, it sounded like everyone was awake. You noticed a fresh pair of clothes was laid out for you. Another shower was very much needed. It was a huge relief to feel actual water pressure hit your skin. It made the soreness more tolerable. After taking your time you dried off and got dressed. As soon as you opened the door you could hear Legend making a big deal out of something.

Butcher and Hughie were by the door. The closer you got to where their attention was at Soldier Boy’s voice sounded loud and clear.

“What is happening?” you asked. This may be the last time you will ever get curious about anything.

“Hughie, listen, these women, they’re like fine wine. Okay, the older they get, the more delicious, but the drier.”

You let out a gasp, and Soldier Boy immediately looked at you. His dick was hard, and the sight of you made it worse. He could not get his eyes off of you as he jerked off. With you, he wouldn’t need any lube. Your natural juices would take care of him and technically, he already knows how your body looks underneath. He knows the way you moan and images filled his mind.

Legend wasted no time in kicking out the maids. Hughie was disturbed and Butcher carried on as if nothing has happened. You had to look away entirely and avoid eye contact. You were so speechless you took no part in the conversation about Mindstorm’s whereabouts.

Finally, when a plan was made you offered to hit up the pharmacies. Though Butcher denied.

“Actually, why don’t you stay back and keep an eye on him?” he motioned towards Soldier Boy who smoked away and minded his business. You shook your head. Under no circumstance were you going to be a babysitter.

If everything Legend said last night was true then Soldier Boy does have a weakness.

You.

Or at least who you used to be.

It didn’t matter to Butcher, but he was going to take advantage of it. “Hughie and I will head out. Just make sure he doesn’t lose his shit.”

Butcher gave you no opportunity to argue. They left right away and you humph. You were hoping Butcher was making a joke out of this and at some point between now and the flight of stairs he and Hughie were climbing he’ll change his mind. Though neither one or the other looked back. Great, now it was you and him.

Your back was towards him but began to turn to look at him, “let’s make one thing very clear. While we are waiting you need to keep your dick in your—“

You stopped talking at the sight in front of you. Soldier Boy took the opportunity that you and him are alone. He removed the robe and dropped it to the floor. His hands were on his hips and just waited. The way your eyes looked down right away and gasped made him smirk. He was very proud of his size and your reaction is definitely on the top of his list. You turned to look away very quickly and covered your eyes with your hand, because apparently just closing them isn’t enough.

“Seriously?!” you snapped. You really hoped Butcher and Hughie will be back soon. “I was going to say keep your dick in your pants!”

Soldier Boy let out a laugh, “come on sweetheart, don’t pretend you did not like what you saw.”

You ignored him and walked away. You headed up the stairs without looking back. Legend was scolding his maids for their inappropriate behavior. That was another image you wanted to remove from your head.

Legend insisted in buying breakfast and have it dropped off, but you were against it. You began to make yourself a meal. Eventually Soldier Boy decided to come up the stairs, fully clothed. He passed by the maids and they blushed. He winked at them and they giggled like a bunch of schoolgirls.

He took a seat on the couch and watched you cook. Whatever it is you are making was smelling delicious. Once you were satisfied you got a plate and served yourself.

“The hell is my plate at?” Soldier Boy asked. You scoffed, “just because I am a woman doesn’t mean I am your maid. You want to eat? Make your own damn food, or ask one of them to make you food.”

Soldier Boy got up and sat across from you at the table. “Don’t sound too jealous now, you were closer to getting me than they did.”

That was nowhere near the point you were trying to make. “I could care less who you sleep with or not. I am trying to get you to understand that this isn’t the 50s or 80s now. Whatever women can do, men can do too. This also goes vice versa.”

Legend was reading an article on his phone, but you trying to talk some sense into Soldier Boy proved to be entertaining. The argument lasted for ten minutes. Just like before, the only person Soldier Boy was willing to have an argument with is Mimicry. If it was anyone else he would have ripped out their spine. In the end, Soldier Boy won and he got half of your food.

“This is fucking delicious, holy shit. Whomever thought women can do so much better than cooking must have gotten some shitty food.” You never felt so flattered and offended at once. You were done eating before he did. He looked like a madman eating a home cooked meal. It made you wonder how the past 40 years went for him back at Russia. How bad was it that he blew up out of nowhere too.

“What?” Soldier Boy asked without needing to look up. He could feel you staring at him, and it was annoying him.

“What happened back at herogasm?” you asked. He stayed quiet and stared down at the food. You sighed, “people got hurt for no reason. It was only supposed to be the twins. I don’t want to believe you did it on purpose. That’s why I am asking.”

“I am aware of what happened” he snapped, “and I don’t know. All of a sudden I got flashbacks, and I felt tense. Something was crawling on my skin and I was unable to get it off of me. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone”

For some odd reason, you believed him. You can see the conflict in his eyes, and there was even a hint of regret. Everything he was saying sounded like he has PTSD. You weren’t sure it was a good idea to say anything about it. It was best not to ruin the moment.

“Little by little, you’ll learn to adjust it. If you ever find yourself feeling like that again why don’t you think of something happy? I’m sure there is at least one thing that made you happy before everything went to shit.”

Soldier Boy knew the answer to that and looked into your eyes. Now your mouth was moving in automatic mode. “I never got to thank you for saving me, twice.”

He could have sworn he only saved you once and that was when Homelander was going to blast you. “It was right before you exploded. You pushed me out of the way.” Ah, he remembers now. He pushed you out of the way to avoid his blast but the twins were targeting you, and he did not think twice to protect you.

There’s that damn look. He could recognize it anywhere and at that moment he felt himself with Mimicry and not with you. You caught him looking down at your lips. He was in a trance, but when you leaned back to avoid him getting closer he snapped out of it. Even he realized what he was doing and right away hid against the wall he made for himself.

“Next time don’t get in my fucking way. You won’t be so lucky whenever shit gets ugly. So, do us a favor and don’t be a burden. None of us need to be carrying your dead weight. Honestly, how fucking stupid do you have to be to be going with us on these missions. You are nowhere near close to our skills and experience. You’re like a gum underneath my shoe. You just stick and never get off.”

His remarks shocked you and left you dumbfounded. Right away your shocked expression turned into a scowl.

“My dead weight?! I can take care of myself. I was put in a bad situation because you dragged me with you! You do not know how much of an essential I am!”

“I dragged your little ass with me because you did not stay outside like I had ordered you to do so. Now that I think about it, maybe if you did not get in my way I wouldn’t have killed more than what was needed!” His words made you see red and without a second thought your hand went up and slapped him across the face. Soldier Boy did not expect you to lay a hand on him which is why his head turned because of the amount of force you put into it.

You got up from your chair and walked away. Soldier Boy also stood up. He was quick on his feet that the chair fell back. “You fucking bitch! Get back here!”

Legend had to get in between the stairs and Soldier Boy. He was trying to reason with him and possibly calm the soldier down.

“She shouldn’t have laid her hand on me! The bitch is going to get it sooner or later!” Soldier Boy yelled. He grabbed the chair and threw it across the room. The chair broke into pieces due to the amount of strength he put into the throw.

“Fuck! Mimicry would never do some shit like that! I gave an order once and she followed without a second thought!”

Legend had to remind Soldier Boy again that you weren’t Mimicry. That only made him angrier, but not to the point his chest would start to glow. It was a good thing Legend had another stash of weed hidden in case of emergencies such as this. He told Soldier Boy to sit and relax. Shit, he even offered if he wanted to fuck the maids he is more than welcome to. Soldier Boy smoked and took him up on the offer.

He made sure he was loud enough that you can hear him from your room. He was too angry to care about their pleasure. He was seeking his own pleasure and once he had it he told them to fuck off.

You listened to the entire thing and all you can think of is how much of a man-child Soldier Boy truly is. Though, you were scolding yourself for not thinking twice about slapping it. Soldier Boy is a vengeful person, so you need to watch yourself and avoid ever being left alone with him. You stayed in the room with the door locked until Butcher and Hughie came back.

They were able to locate Mindstorm. They’re back on the road, and this time you sat in the front passenger side. Soldier Boy sat behind the driver side (where Butcher drove). He had the perfect spot to keep an eye on you. You looked unfazed, but you avoided interacting with him at all. Butcher and Hughie could feel the tension, but they knew it was better not to ask.

The car stayed two miles away from the cabin. The rest would be walked on foot. You made sure your gun was fully loaded and there was one bullet in the chamber just in case something went south and you just needed to push the safe down.

You were relieved Soldier Boy hasn’t done anything to get your attention. He was walking ahead of everyone and in the mean time you came up with a plan to trap Mindstorm. It was nerve wrecking to know his capabilities. Your nerves began to get worse when Soldier Boy would stop and ask if we said anything. The paranoid fuck was stoned and hearing things.

“Great way to get him off the edge,” you said sarcastically. It was all Butcher’s fault for getting him addicted to weed. Either it will be the greatest thing to tame Soldier Boy or it’ll be their deaths. Speaking of death, you felt it on your door yet again when an explosive went off that sent all of you flying. You were starting to heal and once again you’re about to be in pain.

In the midst of all the fog Mindstorm caught Butcher off guard and put him to sleep. An argument ensued and you blamed the broad man who felt no remorse for his stupid mistake.

“You should have looked where you were stepping on!” you snapped. Hughie knelt down to try and wake up Butcher, but there was no point.

“Get off my back! That could have been anyone else!” he yelled.

Fuck! Nothing ever goes write with Soldier Boy! It always ends with it being a big fucking mess, and who has to deal the consequences? Everyone but him! The anger was seeping through and he could see right through you.

“I fucking dare you to act,” he got so close he stared down. He hoped you would try to attack him again, only this time he will be ready to give it back tenfold. Instead of giving him that satisfaction you walked past him to follow the direction Mindstorm left towards to.

Soldier Boy and Hughie called out to you, but you ignored them.

“She is going to be the fucking death of me,” Soldier Boy was frustrated with you to say the least. He let out a sigh and followed behind you. “Stay here,” he ordered Hughie. It was your own anger that betrayed you because now you are alone with him.

Soldier Boy waited for the both of you to be a good distance away from Hughie. When he saw an opportunity he grabbed you and pushed you against the wall. His hand wrapped around your neck and he lifted you from the ground.

You gasped and began to fight violently against his strength, but it was no use. You can see the anger and no matter how much you tried to kick it was no use it.

“I’ve had it with the fucking attitude. I have tolerated you to my limit and guess what? You slapping me? That’s crossing the fucking line. I am a gentleman, but I am more than happy to put you in your fucking place. I don’t know how this little circus team of yours sees you as an asset, but I do not. Try me again, and you will see what I am capable of.”

He let go of you and let you fall to the floor. You struggled to catch your breath and held onto your neck to ease the pain. Soldier Boy walked away, leaving you behind. Your firsts clenched and glared at his back. You would be stupid to try and attack him now. You will wait until the time is right.

You followed and kept your distance. Soldier Boy stopped at the sight of the house.

“Wherever I go, you follow and you will listen to me. Got it?” he asked. You refused to answer. All you did was take a step forward and he grabbed your arm again. Only this time he pulled you against his chest and his arm went around your waist. His hand reached towards your chin.

“I said, got it?” he asked again. You scoffed, but nodded just so he can let go of you. You pulled out your gun and did as he told. Slowly, but surely you entered the house. Just when he was in both of your sights you heard a snapping sound and from the reflection you realized Hughie got out Mindstorm.

“Hughie!” you yelled, even you were angry. Soldier Boy was in a worse mood. Without a second to waste he ran out to go back where he left Hughie. It was impossible to keep up with him but he remained in your sight of vision so you would not get lost. Just when you caught up you cached sight of Soldier Boy aiming for Mindstorm’s neck.

You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand at the gruesome. Butcher called out to you. It was best if the three of you stayed close together. You’ve seen a lot of things, but something so cruel as the way Soldier Boy killed Mindstorm is almost inhumane. You expected Soldier Boy to show some satisfaction in killing the second to last member of Payback, but he was more quiet than ever before. He walked past the three of you without a second thought.

The ride back to Legend’s was silence. Whatever it is Mindstorm said got under Soldier Boy’s skin. Even when they arrived at the apartment he stayed silent. Soldier Boy went straight into his room for the rest of the night. Butcher did not want to talk about what he saw, neither you or Hughie pushed him on it. Legend had dinner bought and the three of you sat.

You were so deep in thought trying to think of what happened back there with Soldier Boy you had not heard Hughie call your name the first time. The second time he did, you did hear. “What is that on your neck?” He pointed and you knew exactly what it was.

You sighed and explained. “You need to be careful with him. You could have gotten yourself killed.” Hughie meant no harm, and you knew that but sometimes he stated the obvious a little too many times.

“Come on, now. We know Soldier Boy wouldn’t do something to actually kill you,” Butcher finally spoke up. He was still out of it, and maybe that’s why the comment slipped. Hughie froze and knew exactly what he meant. You were confused and made it known.

“The hell does that mean?” you questioned. Butcher said nothing else. With his current state of mind he might let something slip and now was not the time. Hughie made up some shit excuse that Butcher is still confusing reality with the dream.

This time, you did not believe them.

All three of you were left guessing what was happening with Soldier Boy. There was a lot of guessing, but nothing logical enough. All of you gave up and retreated to your respected rooms. Except you, of course.

As much as the man angered and frightened you all at once. You were concerned that he has not come out.

“I’m going to regret this,” you mumbled. From the leftover food that was meant for Soldier Boy you prepared a plate. Would it be a bad idea to knock or would it be better if you left the food on the floor? You chose to knock and waited. When there was no response you called out your name and let him know his plate will be on the floor.

This was not like him, so the fact he never came out or even said something scared the shit out of you.

You walked down the hall to your room, and before entering you watched from a distance in hopes he will open the door. Though he never did.

It was middle of the night when you got thirsty. Knowing you, ignoring the need for water wasn’t going to let you sleep. You walked out of the room in just your shirt. It was long enough to keep it modest. If you knew who was wide awake you would have gotten dressed properly.

“Holy shit!” you snapped and placed your hand on your chest. It was dark as hell and turning on the kitchen lights to see Soldier Boy sitting there with a bottle of whiskey and an empty plate surprised you. You noticed the empty plate and was relieved he ate. Honestly, you were happy he was alive after all.

“Will you keep it down enough? I don’t need anyone else to know I’m fucking here.”

He sounded irritated. You mumbled a sorry and went on to get water, and go back to your room. Whatever it is he is going through is not your concern. Soldier Boy does not care about others, so why should you show some compassion towards him? Preparing his plate was just out of courtesy, but there was nothing more to that.

You told yourself that as soon as you drank water you’ll go back to your room.

“Are you okay?” you asked. Damn you, and your concern for others. Soldier Boy said nothing. You rolled your eyes at his silence. If he wants to sit in the dark without saying a word then he can do it on his own. When you finished drinking your water you put it back in place. Since he had not said anything you were going back to your room.

“He’s my son.”

You stopped walking and let his words replay over in your mind. There is no fucking way he is his son.

“What?” you asked, turning around and got closer. Soldier Boy nodded, he can see you were shocked and in disbelief.

“Homelander is my son.”

Now you understood why he needed a moment to himself and drink away. You sat next to him and waited for him to talk. He explained how it happened in 1980 and in 1981 a child was born. Everything he said made sense.

Soldier Boy drank from the bottle and when he put it down you grabbed it. You chugged some down. This was definitely the right moment to drink. Everything that has led to this moment might as well vanish. Soldier Boy isn’t going to want to kill his son. Homelander is the only living family Soldier Boy has left. Though if he does not go through with the plan hell will be risen.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked. You weren’t sure why he was asking you and to be quite frank, you did not have the answer he was seeking.

“He may be blood, but that doesn’t make him family. Nowadays, family is the people you surround yourself with. The ones that are willing to fight for you, do anything and everything to ensure you are safe, and go as far as even die for the other. Homelander is not family. As far as I can tell he only lives for himself and uses people to his convenience. Don’t let that persuade you.”

Soldier Boy let out a small smile. A family. Even he does not have what you just explained. The only person who would have been family is Mimicry. She did not think twice to take any and all necessary blows for him. She gave him unconditional loyalty, and he fucked it up. With you, he doesn’t even have that. He doesn’t have it with Butcher nor Hughie.

“I wish I can relate, but I only look out for myself. A deal is a deal with Butcher, but after that I am on my way. I’m better off like that,” he explained.

You wanted to tell him it isn’t because he is better off like that. It’s just that he hasn’t found the right people. There will always be someone for the other.

“What your team did was unforgivable, but not everyone is like that.”

“I’m not going to take my chances with another team. Especially with your circus show. Fuck no. I’m ready to kill the Brit and the balls gobbler. Once all of this is over I just want to rest. I would have served my purpose and the farthest I get away from Vought and everyone, the better. Shit, I might even start my own drug ring. Do you know how great it would be to get unlimited supply of weed?”

You wanted to believe he was joking, but as far as you can tell, Soldier Boy does not joke around.

“Wouldn’t it get lonely, though? And I don’t mean just any company. I’m talking about someone special in your life?”

Soldier Boy went into complete silence. Fuck, it was like you can read through him.

Like she did.

You can tell he was hesitant to speak, but he still did nonetheless.

“There was someone,” he admitted. You stayed quiet to avoid ruining the moment. “Actually, you remind me a lot about her. Though you are too damn noble, stubborn, and reckless. She was almost the opposite. She had her moments of stubbornness and recklessness, but she was more calculative, smart, and wouldn’t hesitate to throw herself at anything if it meant protecting me.”

Truth be told, you did not expect Soldier Boy to actually have a heart. Though seeing the way he is talking about this woman showed he cared for her.

“What happened?”

Once again silence filled the room. At this point the bottle was more than halfway gone.

“She left Payback, and the moment she learned what happened to me she tried saving me. She died trying to do so.”

Soldier Boy did not want to go more into details of what occurred. He did not want to explain how he failed Mimicry and couldn’t give her what she wanted. Finally, he looked at you and there’s a look he had never seen before. Not even with Mimicry.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Up to this day no one ever apologized for what happened to her. Vought didn’t, no one from Payback, and not even Legend himself. So for a stranger to be apologizing made him feel something. He was sitting close to you again, and found himself looking down at your lips again.

His eyes moved down to your neck, and he noticed the marks forming from earlier’s incident. He reached out to trail the bruises on your neck with his finger. You did not even flinch when he touched you, but you did stare at his face to try and see what he was thinking about.

“I’m sorry for what happened back there,” he admitted. Maybe it was the liquor, or the way he was so close to you but all you were able to do was nod your head.

“It’s okay. Nothing that won’t heal,” you whispered back. The kitchen lights turned off automatically. You did not bother thinking about it since they were probably on a timer or some shit.

Your foreheads connected and instead of pulling away from him your breath hitched. His fingers moved away from your neck and now it was caressing your cheek.

Soldier Boy let out a groan and pulled away. “We need sleep,” and with that he retreated. He did not even bother to say goodnight.

Whatever the fuck that was you were just going to blame the alcohol.

Next Chapter: Chapter Five

Author's Note: I am super happy to see everyone excited and emotional! There is still a lot to unpack. I am updating a lot faster than what I have anticipated. I have all of you to thank you for that <3

I am tagging everyone, but I am not sure if all of you are getting notified! Please let me know if you are not. I am more than happy to send each and every one of you a personal message when I update! :)

Tagged List: @seven709 @sadpods @mayafatimakhan @justiceforquentin @ultracarpediemfan @bitchykittenconnoisseur @spacecowgirl126 @ultraviolencexs @deans-spinster-witch @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @manicjk @demodemo909 @robertthehoover @riah1606 @onlyangel-444 @cunningboyouare @posiemax @anna6307 @jarofer

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #the boys series

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thesharktanksdriver · 2 months ago

Text

Determination!: The all blue night (platonic)

Masterlist for the series.

I put in Zeff’s manga reasoning for loosing a leg this one cause it makes more sense and is much more impactful in my opinion. Like I get they didn’t want to put in he ate his own leg to survive because it’s super dark but I digress. Sorry for the slow rate I’m writing stuff school has been taking a big toll on me inspiration wise and kinda mentally too lol

tag list : @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck @spqce-bun @coca-cola-fiend @Koifishpoond @eyes-ofhell @imaginarydreams @ghostdoodlen

At some point in a long while hunger becomes or less like second nature

You knew the feeling intimately

It starts as a burning pit that consumes your entire stomach

Eating through stomach lining as acid boils over and spills into the rest of you

It travels and burns

Eating you away as hands scrape against the midriff to try and alleviate the ache

The pain

The want

The need

The agony

But eventually the pain becomes background noise

As does all pain after so long

You’d died so many times in so many different ways and yet starvation is one thing that is familiar to you

And like how death is your friend whom you see oh so often

So is hunger

Nights spent alone clutching a completely empty stomach

The pain becoming almost a comforting sensation in its familiarity

At some point you’d just accepted that your stay hungry

That even when dying over and over again and occasionally treating yourself to a meal you’d stay hungry

Because even when you ate it was never enough

Stomach still aching and swirling in its emptiness and collapsing in on itself

At some point a long time ago you used to go to bed with a full stomach and now each night your rocked to sleep by the pain of an empty one

Things used to be different

And you can’t remember what that was like anymore

So you just accepted as it was

And so you accepted you’d be forever hungry

Ending up a cruise ship wasn’t your intention but just as most things that happen to you it quickly becomes a new experience

And as always you go with the flow of things

Ending up on the cruise wasn’t planned

Nor was ending up somehow being found by a young chef boy who helped cover for you

But as always fate seemed to have different plans

And you just rolled with it

The boy’s name was Sanji, he was 10 and helped you hide in the storage area of the cruise

At night he’d sneak you out

With hands much like your own, scarred yet retaining a soft and caring quality he’d guide you through the halls

Past the creaky floorboards he knew by heart after 2 years of apparently living on this ship

Through the elegant dining rooms that housed grand chandeliers and checkerboard floors

Beneath the white table cloths of spotless tables he and you sit

Quietly looking at recipe books together or sharing stories between the two of you

Sanji was apparently from the north blue originally, but found himself on the cruise that now housed him called the orbit

The chefs found him one night

Scared and alone pillaging the kitchen

They took pity on him, partially out of genuine concern and intrigue at seeing the spark of talent in him

And since then he’s been cooking and calling this place “home”

Though that was a vague term

Much like yourself Sanji had ambitions beyond this small boat cruising the sea

He wanted to find something

Wanted to be something beyond an errand boy

Wanted to cook for anyone who’d have his food

To ensure they didn’t go to bed hungry

The way he describes it to you under a table in candlelight resounds something in you

Especially since he then takes your hands, promising he’d ensure you’d be full

That you’ll have the best food he can provide

All for you

Someone who’s still a stranger to him

A stowaway on a cruise meant for upper crust but not quite celestial dragons (yet they both act the same either way)

And he still promises he’d do everything in his power to make you content

He cooks for you as if you were someone important and not a stowaway

You nod along not having the will to tell him he’d never be able to do that

Not when you can’t remember what being full felt like anyways

And so you lie and say your full after you finish a plate even if your still staving

His blinding smile is able to make you feel the pain momentarily go away anyways

Sanji tells you one night of a place called “the all blue”

Supposedly it was the place that connected the north, south, east, and west together

Creating a sea where creatures from all four seas could coexist together

It was a chef and fisherman’s dream

But it was just that

A dream

Unattainable and imaginary

Or…at least that’s what everybody else thought

But not Sanji

And certainly not you

He speaks so hopeful about his dream

Of finding the all blue

Of proving everyone wrong

Of making his dream come true

He has the spark to do it

You can tell by his eyes alone

Sapphire hued just like the waves of the ocean he seeks

Similarly he sees a spark in your eyes as well

Almost seeming to Glow in hazy candlelight

And as you say you believe in him

In his dream

Believed in him when no one else did

Well, who’s to say he couldn’t become more motivated

Especially when your eyes shine like stars above the sea

And when in the candlelight highlighted by luminous stars hidden in irises he asks you about your dream

And in a haze of memory and emotion you tell him a story

One you cannot remember now but he holds dear in his heart

The story of wanting

The story loss

The story of loneliness

The story of a family torn apart

And the story of a devil fruit

By the end of it all you and Sanji sit in a darkened kitchen

Two stowaways on the same ship (though one is welcomed and the other is a mystery)

Both connected through the spark of a dream to sail the seas

One’s purpose clear while the other is hazed

But either which way the two talk in an empty kitchen and eat

Unknowingly both know what it feels like to starve

And both know loss

The two of you make a pinky promise, when he finds the all blue you’ll be the first to have one of his meals and you promise you’ll always be his friend

The raid of the orbit comes out of nowhere and somehow predictable at the same time

You’d come to know that your luck was something that ran out quite fast

And unfortunately you were no stranger to things such as this

But typically when a ship went down you were on the deck

Now instead you were in the storage

Stood atop boxes that were quickly being eaten up by cold unforgiving water

Yelling and screams echoes down quickly flooding halls

Waves crashing so Harshly against the ship that it begins to crack the wood, doesn’t help that the invading ship is bumping into it either

Confusion spreading through you like wildfire as the water continues to raise higher and higher

If you were anyone else you’d be scared of dying to such a fate

But your not

Your more worried about Sanji as you trudge through the wading waves

Feet becoming heavier and heavier with each step you take

Feeling as if concrete was slowly forming shoes over your boots or chains manifesting from the cold water that sucks warmth from you

By now it’s just above your waist and the effects of it really begin to hit you

Soon enough you’d be immobile

Unable to move and frozen like a Statue for the waves that’ll sink you with it

If you didn’t die from the cold first but you doubted that

With how the steadily rising of it your definitely drowning before hypothermia or shock

Though at this point even the pain of choking on salt water, it quickly filling your lungs for the burn of air loss to help fill the liquid

But then you hear sloshing through the blaring of your ears

And your name

It echoes and for a moment you need a moment to realize what was said or who even called out

But then it hits you

Sanji

He came back for you

Came back knowing you’d be in danger

Came back knowing you were in an area with water

Came back knowing you’d be eaten up by the waves if he didn’t

Came back because he knew knew you ate a devil fruit

Shaking cold hands grab your own and he drags you with him

But at the point in which the water gets to the point of immobilizing you he decides to pick you up instead

Placing you on his back as he drags both himself and you through flooding halls

Water splashes

Yelling continues

Sanji’s rapidly thumbing heart echoes through your ribcage as you helplessly lay your head on his shoulder

He should’ve left you there to save himself

You say so to his face

But despite that he yells at you for being an idiot

About how in the hell you expected him to leave you there to die

Not when he promised he’d cook you the first meal he’d make when he found the all blue

Not when you were the only one who enjoyed his cooking

Through the chaos you and him stumble out into the deck

The boat rocking violently as rain and sea water pelts down on you like hail

Your still weak because of this, the water soaking you to the bone

But thoroughly out of being submerged you slink off of Sanji’s back

But he holds your hand

It shakes in your grip

He’s scared and you can’t blame him

Swords clash all around the two of you, and somehow both of you weave through the carnage

For reasons you don’t like to think about he seemed used to fighting just as you were

But unlike you who content in laying down and dying he fights

Sanji will die clawing to survive

It’s why he picks up a sword

Why he points it at a pirate despite the fact he won’t win

Why he pushes you behind him even if your stronger and older than him

Because Sanji cares

And that’s something very rare now in the world

Even when the captain of the crew comes up to the two of you Sanji doesn’t back down

He proudly declares his dream

To find the all blue

And within that captains eyes you see it

That same spark, that same dream, that same determination

Though it’s dying and faded it for a moment lights up once more

You see it before being engulfed by water and grasp for it

You, Sanji and the pirate known as Zeff end up on a barren rock in the middle of the ocean

No grass nor trees

Just a jutting stone too far up from the water to safely jump in from or fish

Stuck after the captain with dimming eyes saved both you and Sanji after a colossal wave swept the two of you off ship

In the water despite your attempts in making Sanji let you go he didn’t

His grip had held stead-strong as he kept trying to pull you up with him

Unable to even as air escaped his lungs

But Zeff intervened

And the three of you were alive for now

But you could hardly call this living

You sit with Sanji looking out towards the sea, hoping for a ship to cross by

The food given by Zeff won’t last long to feed either of you past a few days, you know that

Even if Sanji does his best to ration it between the two of you

You know one of you won’t survive

And you know you won’t let it be him

Starvation is not a new go around for you

It’s probably your most common death besides dehydration, drowning or hypothermia

But it’s not a fun way to go even if the pain of a empty stomach became commonplace for you

You can’t let Sanji die that way

Not before finding the all blue

So when he’s not looking you hid the food he gives you

Hiding each piece and scrap of moldy bread

Keeping it from his sapphire eyes that become more and more sunken like your own

Keeping the fact how much pain your in from him

You distract from it all by telling him more stories

Of singing songs even if your throat feels like sand paper is scraping against it with each word

Each syllable

Each hum

But you don’t care

Not when you see his eyes reignite with hope

Not when his sullen face pulls up into a smile when you tell him of when you learned piano from a crew who befriended a whale

Not when they sparkle with curiosity when hearing of a land atop the clouds with white winged people

Not when you see the slightest bit of ease when you tell him of the constellations

Pointing to the stars and explaining their meaning

Telling him how no one was ever truly alone when the stars hung and watched

That’s what’s you had told yourself after so many weeks alone drifting

That the stars were watching

That you weren’t alone as you clutched Roger’s coat closer

Everyone was made of stardust and in the end that’s where they returned when they died

You weren’t alone, not with the stars watching over you

Not when Roger was watching over you

As you lay awake while Sanji clings to you for warmth you pull the coat closer around the two of you

One night as Sanji slept you snuck to the other side of the island

Zeff doesn’t face you, but the smell of iron lingers in a scent as familiar as the sea to you

Blood

It stains the ground and air in its presence

It’s familiar to you though, even if that’s a sad fact to admit

Sitting down next to the old captain you look to the night sky

Your oldest friend of them all

Bleak and empty with the stars being the only boots of light penetrating the deep darkness

Dead stars continuing to shine even after being extinguished, their light still traveling eons away to hit your eyes in their gentle glow amidst the sorrow and joy of life

His hand trumps your shoulder as you sit next to him, he can probably feel the bone beneath now paper thing flesh

Fat being eaten away by your body to try and survive

Leaving you a shell of yourself even moreso than him or Sanji

He can tell, and despite not looking in his diminishing eyes you can sense the horror in them

His shaking hand is enough to tell you

But despite it all you smile at him, now looking at the weathered man

Your eyes speak volumes that he can’t decipher in such little amount of time

But even with that he sees the understanding and acceptance of your own fate

And it crushes him

Grinds him down to his very spirit

And Zeff is left speechless as you tend to his tourniquet and stump of a leg

Still bloody and raw

You don’t flinch at the sight at all

If anything you gaze at blood and gore as if it were normal

Examining it as if it were a paper cut before assuring him it’s luckily not infected and that he cut off his blood circulation correctly

How you knew this knowledge was beyond him

And yet you knew it all the same

Humming a soft tune to yourself that he hears softly in the daytime across the little barren rock of an island

It’s raspy and quiet

And at the same time hauntingly loud in his ears

It seems to linger there even as you go back to Sanji

As does the fact you know what your fate is

And that there’s nothing him nor the boy could do for you, your body on the cusp of death that nothing could change that

But all the same you smile and sing in the face of it all

As if awaiting death like an old friend at a bar

Drunk on the remaining days of your life as you sung songs awaiting his arrival

You’ve always known when your time was near, you always seemed to sense it before it had come

Maybe death was a sentient entity and you’d just been able to sense it better as time went on

Or maybe you were just so used to your body shutting down that you’d noticed the signs before it happened

But either which was you knew your time was soon

There was no crying about it

Nor shivers of fear

If anything it felt more like a release and a hopeful occasion

Because you’d be released from the hunger if only to feel your stomach become empty again (but for the moment you wake in that void where you clutch a golden star the pain is gone)

If only to be released from this barren prison and find a way to save Sanji and Zeff

Because if you died you could get them help

That was seemingly the only purpose of your powers anyways

Die

Comeback

Rinse and repeat

You were fine with it though

As long as it meant you were able to help others (even at your own expense)

Every moment drags on

Every twitch of your finger takes so much out of you

Your body not having enough to power it

Despite it though you sit beside Sanji one last time

You sing for him and tell him stories

Tell him of the grand line and its wonders

The new world and its mystery

Trailing off occasionally for a break as everything becomes harder to do

The words seeming to slur and slosh around in your mouth

He can tell something is wrong

By the tears gathering in ocean blue eyes he knows

So he savours what you say

What you tell

What you sing

The words being engraved in his mind as paper thin skeletal hands clutch his own

That night he falls asleep much later than he usually did

He sits staring up to the stars you’d told him of

His grip deathly tight on your hand

Thumb lightly grazing your pulse as if to ensure himself your still there

Still breathing

Still alive

Using your pulse to try and keep himself awake even if it’s wasting precious energy

When he eventually drifts off with tears gathered in his eyes (knowing you’d be deathly still in the morning, cold and stiff and forever asleep) you tell him to find it

The all blue

He dreams of that place when you slip from his grasp

He dreams of the fishes mingling together when you take out the scraps hidden away and placing them in his pile

He dreams of preparing when you hobble over to Zeff

He dreams of cooking when the old man begs you to eat, to be selfish and you reply that you are being selfish. That you want him and Sanji to live for your sake and that was as selfish as it came

He dreams of serving you a dish when the old man can do nothing but hold you close and not want to let go and yet eventually you slip away

He dreams of your reaction as you say to Zeff your gonna go get some rest and promise to get them help with a gentle smile

He dreams of sitting beside you with his feet in the water wadding slowly, the sight of a sunset fading quickly into night

Briefly he jostles momentarily awake when you lay back next to him, smiling and telling him to get some rest

Halfway asleep he nods, partially thinking it was his dream because he’s had no one care for him like this except you (and mom and maybe Reiju)

So of course for the moment in which he’s only partially aware he sees it as a happy dream

You hold him close and he goes back to dreaming

He dreams of you sitting by his mom in that hospital bed, a dish for the two of you in her lap while you fade into the nothingness that is night

When he wakes that morning he wakes up alone and cold

He lays there for several minutes sobbing to himself as he notices the food he rationed out for you a few feet away untouched and moldy

Sanji sobs and his all blue eyes spill with tears

Across the island the old man does the same

Your body is not on the island and unknowingly to them faded to stardust

But both later come to the conclusion that in your last moments you’d decided to take the plunge into the water

To not leave them with a rotting corpse on that barren rock (since despite both of their hunger neither would eat your corpse. Zeff could eat his own leg in desperation but that was his leg, not the dead body of a child)

A reminder of both their failures

One in protecting the two young children he sacrificed his leg for

And the other in promising you’d be the first to taste his dream

Unbeknownst to them across the sea a young child reports to a ship of being a survivor of the orbit

Saying that they saw two others shipwrecked on a rocky island jutting out from the ocean

As a ship is sent off to investigate an odd group of crows end up dropping food on the barren island to Sanji and Zeff’s bitter relief

Two loafs of bread and a canteen of water being able to get them a few more days before rescue

The urge to go see them is there within your heart, but for their sake you decide not to

You’d caused them too much pain in the first place

You don’t want to rub salt in the wound

Plus you’d prefer oregano instead to season yourself

Sanji is a troubled child, he’s self aware to know that about himself

It’s perhaps why everyone hated him

But for some reason you didn’t and surprisingly enough so did Zeff

The two of you handed out kindness to him as if he deserved it

As if he weren’t a failure on so many levels both genetically and emotionally

In a sense he could get why you did it, a kid only maybe a year or two older than him

Someone he viewed as his closest friends despite the relativity of time spent together and as a sibling he wishes he had (the now healed bruises and scars you saw but never pushed to ask about as you helped put salves over the old wounds are evident of that)

Someone who sacrificed themselves for him, for some fucking reason saving your food for him even as you withered away before his eyes

If he had been more watchful he would’ve noticed it, but being half there on that island starved and scared left him more like a shell

Made him ignorant until it was too late

He could accept why you care, but he can’t accept why Zeff cares

Can’t accept why this man, a hardened pirate would give a shit about him

Offer him kindness

Take him in

Mentor him

And eat his own leg to ensure Sanji and you wouldn’t go hungry (partially worked in the end)

Sanjis sometimes gets kindness from women, moms warm hugs are evident in his mind as is the tears from a sister who tells him to go and be free

Sanji’s sometimes kindness from those his age, your the shining example but he can also think of a few guests in the orbit who played games with him in its halls

But most of all Sanji has never experienced kindness from a man

So seeing Zeff go out of his way for him

Seeing how Zeff on the rescue ship doesn’t let anyone hound him for invasive answers and ensures he gets food first

The good food the ship goers give in pity that he scrounges up with a snotty noose and runny eyes, Zeff always lets him eat first before having his own fix

How Zeff rubs his back as the both mourn

It means a lot more than words can say

As does the fact that Zeff on a silent night says he’s going to open a restaurant on the sea

And that he needs staff

A silent invitation that is solidified as Sanji quietly takes his hand with tears in his eyes

If the old man is crying Sanji doesn’t comment

Not even if raindrops fall down from a clear night sky and pelt his dirtied kitchen apron

Not when he’s held close in loving arms

Not when they sit in the deck both brokenly humming the song you’d sing like a broken record

Out of tune and off key

It plays when the two of them cook in the kitchen of the baratie

Sanji always looks to the stars when he takes a smoke break, Zerg occasionally accompanying him on the balcony in a somber silence

And even though Sanji hates wasting food he can’t help but make an extra plate sometimes

Can’t help but subconsciously make more than needed to feed someone not there

Zeff doesn’t comment on it and tells the others to lay off if they ask Sanji about it

He can’t judge when he sometimes does the same

Can’t when he sometimes looks out to sea and hears your humming in the waves

The small song sung by a raspy throat that helped ease hours of the days spent on that barren rock

Days in which he worries of his wound being infected

Days in which he worried for the boy who shared his dream and the child who looked as if they accepted death

And it stays with him

Because Zeff can so clearly see your sunken face when he spots a starved begger on the street

Can so clearly see how you curled up at night trying to keep Sanji warm as skeletal hands clung to you

Can clearly see your eyes when he stares out at night, the full shine of stars that looked so bleak

Can so clearly see you valued the two of them more than yourself no matter how either of them tried to save you

And yet they couldn’t do it

You weren’t here anymore, no body to bury or honour either

Nothing but a barren rock and cold salty water to serve as your grave

The chefs at baratie try to question when one night a year they see Zeff and Sanji leave a full plate of food on the deck

But none of them ever get an answer except it was for someone hungry they couldn’t feed

Patty always tries to chase away the crows that peck at the food but each year they return to eat that plate of food until nothing is left

And oddly enough the murder always seems to leave behind a loaf of bread in the plates place

Years later a cannonball crashes through the baratie

Cracking and breaking timber in of what Sanji calls a home

Besides that and a marine asshole with his beautiful date it’s a mostly normal day

Not the worse he’s experienced

Nor the best

Average would be the best way to put it, the baratie often times seeming more like a fight club rather than a proper cooking establishment

If the smirk wasn’t enough I n the douches face then it was the fact he wasted perfectly good food

The thought sickens him

A sunken starved face stares back at him from the wasted soup

Boney and dead

It leaves him sick to his stomach especially when a starved pirate stumbles through the door

And everything seems to come back to him all at one once

Especially the man’s eyes, they look too much like your own on those last few days on the hellish rock

Soulless and empty

When he places a plate in front of the starved man he doesn’t expect anyone from the dinning room to follow in his example

Not with their cheering of the man being beaten down by patty

But stepping through the side door someone follows

He extinguishes his cigarette and turns around just as he hears the clink of another plate being lowered to the wooden deck

And it’s there that Sanji freezes

Your eyes stare back at him in just as much shock

A cigarette long forgotten falls to the deck and is extinguished when he steps on it

His arms wrap around your own as tears drop freely from his eyes

You hold him the same as you did the last

One hand laced in golden hair while the other pats his back

His knees buckle from the weight of it all

This has to be a dream

He only sees you in dreams or in the faces of the truly hungry

Your sunken starry eyes staring out from others

But your here

And your healthy and safe and alive

And despite the fact he’s confused as all hell

He can’t help but thank whatever god there is out there that your here again

Not just a reflection of a memory

Your here

When you pull away he can’t help but want to pull you back just to ensure you don’t go

To not make the same mistake that Zeff did in letting you go that he still regrets every single day of his life

But as you pull away you don’t do so entirely, you hold both his hands as he kneels to match your level

A confused starved pirate watches confused alongside a boy in a straw hat

“I know you probably have a lot of questions” you say, your hands fidgeting in his with nervousness. You expect him to be mad, to blow up at you and yell at you to leave but he doesn’t, instead you feel his thumb rubbing circles comfortingly on your knuckles. “Think you can get the old man? I think I owe it to you to explain….oh and I’ll pay for the food. I grabbed a random plate on the way here”

#determination!#one piece #platonic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece sanji #one piece zeff #sanji op #sanji x reader #poor sanji #lol

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sendpseuds · 4 months ago

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[ladies and gentlemen: the fuck, marry, kill finale]

“And now, if you don’t give me what I want, I— I think I might kill you.”

Stubborn silver eyes remain frustratingly unreadable as Obi-Wan’s focus dances over Anakin’s face like he’s trying to untangle the younger man’s treacherous threat — to separate the truth from terrible lies but Anakin knows in his horrible heart that he meant every last letter.

When the grip in his hair loosens, Anakin thinks he might scream, terrified this man will pull away in more ways than one and send him into a spiraling storm, but that frigid fear quickly melts under the heat of Obi-Wan’s palm as the man’s hand slides along his jaw until he’s pressing a saber-rough thumb into the soft swell of Anakin’s lower lip, a wicked smirk curling the corners of the man’s menacing mouth as Obi-Wan Kenobi slowly lowers himself into Anakin Skywalker lap.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”

It feels like being yanked out of hyperspace when Obi-Wan’s lips meet his — hot and hungry and Anakin can only gasp into the kiss he never thought he’d receive. His body responds first, his mind miles behind in the maelstrom of his masters ministrations — digging his fingers into Obi-Wan’s thighs, pressing hard against his welcoming body, licking greedily into his open mouth.

Apparently, Anakin is not the only one who’s been drinking, if the bitter taste of Obi-Wan’s tongue is anything to go by but he can’t find it in him to care how exactly they got here when the man kisses like he’s been craving Anakin’s saliva for centuries.

It’s delicious and dizzying and downright insane that a stupid game could have sparked something so sinfully satisfying.

“It’s your turn,” Anakin breathes nonsensically when inevitably they’re forced to come up for air, gasping and groaning into the heating space between them.

Obi-Wan hums questioningly into another kiss, softer, sweeter than the ones that preceded it, but Anakin finds he can’t be distracted from the wicked words in his throat.

“Fuck, marry, kill,” Anakin grins, his smile only growing wider when Obi-Wan exhales an exasperated huff against his lips. “Your best friend—“ he pinches meanly at Obi-Wan’s side as if to say ‘don’t even pretend I’m not your best friend,’ “—your worst enemy—“

Anakin places small kisses to each corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth as he lists off the options, pulling the man back in and licking between his lips before adding the last teasing possibility.

“Your padawan.”

Immediately, Obi-Wan’s hands are back in his hair, harsh and heated, wrenching his head back to expose the long vulnerable line of Anakin’s throat before nipping at golden skin like he wants to hold the younger man’s pulse between his teeth.

“I have a better option,” Obi-Wan growls against his jaw and Anakin wants to roll his eyes because Obi-Wan always thinks he has a better option but any protest dies in his throat when the man in his lap grinds his ass down against Anakin’s growing desire, causing him to moan out, long and loud, his hips hitching up of their own accord.

“Fuck The Chosen One.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is rough and ragged in a way Anakin has only ever heard in the heat of battle, the man’s mouth unrelenting as he sucks a harsh bruise into his collar bone, licking salt from Anakin’s skin like he’s a delicacy meant to be savoured.

“Marry The Hero With No Fear.”

When Obi-Wan sinks his teeth into the juncture of his shoulder, growling like some feral beast, Anakin grips both hands in fiery hair, crying out in a whirling mixture of pulsing pleasure and perfect pain, tugging tugging tugging until the man’s lips are back on his, groaning into the open cavern of his mouth, desperate to taste every last one of Obi-Wan’s perfect teeth.

It feels like a fevered dream, Anakin’s mind reeling with the reality that this is Obi-Wan writhing in his lap, nipping at his lips, groaning and grinding his hips down and Anakin almost forgets—

“And who— who would you kill, Master?”

Obi-Wan pulls back just enough for that stunning silver stare to meet his own and Anakin has never seen the man like this — face flushed, hair tousled, eyes as dark and deep as empty space — he looks like a man at the very end of his carefully curated control, patience frayed to fragile fibers, and Anakin doesn’t think he’s ever laid eyes on anything more beautiful.

“Who would I kill?” Obi-Wan echos, his voice gruff and graveled and there is no denying the greedy look in those gorgeous eyes, “Anyone who dares try and take you from me.”

[1][2][3][4]

#I had so much fun with this #I hope you did too #fuck marry kill #obikin #ficlet #drabbles

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siremasterlawrence · 23 days ago

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Kingdom Of Lawrence: A King’s Tale

It is literally midnight when I hear the clock go off ringing loudly as a sound breaks past my room as I exit the door, closing it as I am rushing down the staircase to the last step on to the main floor and I spot him as he turns to see me with a stern face as places the last gift down under the tree he places his hands in his knees as he leaps up on to his feet.He giggles a bit making a hand gesture land in a figure pointing at me he wagging it very much with a disapproving stare as I roll my eyes at him, he is in shock by my actions as I stare upward above him as his eyes follow me he is too slow as the net drops on to him covering him entirely sending his massive body to the floor and I watch him struggle to escape. I begin to giggle heading toward him holding on to the wall I brace it managing to remove the light plus on the tree to pull it out before flipping the switch on as the lights flipping it off, I stare him down grabbing a book from my desk as the light shines over it for him to see clearly and Santa’s mind begins to rack at this unforeseen consequence of a man on the good list.

“Is this really how you behave?”

“Apparently! It’s obvious”

“You were always on the good list”

“Yeah! About that “

“Insolent”

“Poor pathetic baby “

“Do you know who I am speaking too?”

“Of course! Santa Clause”

“Release me! I will forget it”

“This is my rules”

“I am in control “

“You will be my…”

“Victims?”

“Oh brother!”

“What? Say it”

“God you are stupid!”

“No! My asset”

“Your asset?”

The young man claps a bit watch Santa’s urgent need to escape unfortunately for him the night is only just about to begin for my twisted tracks simply put as I stomp my feetat all because the trap is set the net entirely covers him and slowly begins to lift him up In to the air he watches the young man who is asserting his permanent control on to this legend. The young man cracking up a loud set of barrel of laughter as it ricocheting in the wall bouncing back in to his ears with a thunderous cracking sound hitting him hard right smacking him hard as his ears burn in shame and barely without a second thought he reaches for his pocket knife and slashes the net allowing him to fall right on to his back and soon he cries in pain. Santa Claus is getting back to the basics a expression of fear is apparent on his face he peers in to my eyes deeper then anyone ever else he is some how unearth from me as I walk ever closer to him and he uses his hands and feet to back up to the tree and the lights slither down wrapping him up like a Christmas present.

“How did you? What the fuck? You listen..”

“I will be doing the talking now”

“I am the one who is charge “

“You work for me now”

“LOOK AT ME”

“I AM YOUR KING “

“YOU WILL SUBMIT”

“I will…”

“You will what ?”

“Say it”

“I will submit “

“This house is a Santa Booby Trap”

“Why are you …”

“You are hottie so built and I claim you “

“Far from a answer “

“I am tired of my life “

“You want to start over “

“I guess you deserve it! Let’s make a deal “

Kris Clause is on his feet smirking as both of his eyes are glowing with such a beautiful green tint ever so emerald green as be sees things in a new way as the air piling under him swirls past the top of his head like a hurricane and swirls through him summon up magic overtaking his body as golden aura of color powers him as it flows off of his body. Flowing in the air finally it iscollecting on to my hands encircling upmy arm to my shoulders straight diving in to my ears causing my stir shaking mein to a fiery session as I fall to my knees his power infusing in to my nerves, bloodand now my brain and my mind is sent in to tunnel vision out of my house in to a cold airy state in Santa’s workshop and hoard of elves appear. I wake up to see my house completely transform my homein to a palace of power as I sit on the throne empowered as Santa takes a knee when hewalks in.

“What is my name?”

“Master Lawrence “

“You are my property now! So serve me”

“Yes Master”

“Master Lawrence “

“The power Of Santa and the North Pole “

“Good boi!”

“Mmmm! Oh My God!”

“You are enthralled and in love “

“My lust did you knows no bound “

“You are my God!”

“My first present is a second slave”

“I love you sir”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Watch my power brings it”

“Magic is real and it’s all yours “

“Master please meet your second boi “

“I am your favorite, your number one but this

is Slave Charlie your knight and bodyguard.”

The end

#charlie hunnam #luke macfarlane #hypnosis #mind control #reprogramming #hypno slave #hypno submission #north pole #santa claus #kris kringle #Hot Santa #Santa slave #slave knight #mind control slaves

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cabinseventheaterchick · 9 months ago

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BLOG NEWS: Check back later!

I now run a Riordanverse roleplay Tumblr Community! Everyone is welcome!

Kat if she had a Wikipedia page (her lore summarized)

Portrait done by the incredibly talented @apollos-coolest-child

Oh, hi! Didn’t see you see there. I’m Kat Carter!

Okay, lemme think… I’m fifteen, daughter of Apollo currently at Camp Half-Blood with my homies <3

When I’m not at camp, NYC is my home base. You can probably find me in Apollo cabin: practicing monologues/songs, playing matchmaker (it’s not just for Aphrodite kids!), or staging a kitchen coup d’état so I can bake something delicious.

he gets his own category:

@ellis--wakefield — my boyfriend <333

he’s really cute and he’s great at capture the flag and he’s nice to the newbies and damn he’s just idk how to even describe him ‘cause words cannot

Former… um… let’s just say people I used to know:

@lukemessedup — Good boss, bad business

@lieutenant-of-kronos — I regret letting him convince me to join up but he’s a nice guy.

@alabaster-c-t — Yep. You read that right. Bro is apparently not dead, nor has ever been.

@the-song-of-the-moon — We’re starting an ex-Titan Army therapy group together :3

Uncle Kronos (links to the Wayback Machine of the first version) — Literally cannot believe I wrote this. Uncle Kronos was a good person. I think I’ll always miss him, but I’m glad he found peace. Here’s to you, Uncle K.

@existence-is-pain-ahhhhhhhh — need I say more? He’s awesome. Case closed.

@the-better-castellan — new addition to the List Of People Who Aren’t Dead After All! They’re cool trust me

@peyton-is-cool — I missed him loads. Thank the gods he’s safe—he’s been in Texas? I guess?

Totally irresponsible pseudo-father to half of CHB (he does actually care about campers but he’s got a reputation to uphold):

@dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine

My fellow campers, love y’all:

@thanatoss-favorite-demigod — best murder road trip buddy a gal could ask for

@thehadescabincounsler — I’ve adopted them into Apollo cabin. They’re now officially an honorary child of the Sun Dude.

@thatonebitheaterkid — my sibling. too many pets (affectionate)

@that-dam-daughter-of-poseidon — my absolute bestie <3

@poseidons-favourite-daughter — training together ⚔️! She’s so sweet and a year rounder so I won’t be alone come fall

@yes-im-a-daughter-of-hades — she just got back from Tartarus, so you know what that means!… binge watching everything pop culture. Phineas and Ferb say what?

@lady-ariadne-of-milan — my coolest big sister. Be nice, she’s been trapped as a flower since, like, the Renaissance.

@bill-son-of-boreas — Ayyy! My Norwegian bestie!

@internal-bloodshed — I’m like ninety percent sure he wants me dead. If I step a toe out of line and hurt Ellis, my body will apparently never be found.

@the-better-stoll-brother — If anyone messes with him one more time I’m throwing hands.

Shoot me an ask, camp can get kinda boring!

(Psst. My general tag is #kat carter on the case, and my lore tag is #from the archives of kat carter)

(Extra psst. Do you want more Kat Carter content without actually having to roleplay? Send me an ask by picking something from my tag #ask game!)

#percy jackson #percy jackson oc #pjo oc #rp blog #roleplay blog #alabaster c torrington #ellis wakefield #cabin 7 #kat carter on the case #from the desk of kat carter #ask game

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jasntodds · 6 months ago

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Penance [2]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 8,134

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, some canon violence

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter!! It's just the beginning of what's to come!! lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

By the time the next day rolls around, Jason still doesn’t know Dick has asked you to help out. He thinks it’s just him which does have him wondering why Dick didn't ask you. It seems a bit odd given your whole friendship with Tim anyway but he chalks it up to maybe you being busy. Molly mentioned you were working on a case that kept you pretty busy. Maybe you've just been preoccupied with that to actually help. Jason isn’t sure and he isn’t entirely sure why it matters. It doesn’t. It shouldn't.

Jason gets ready to go find Tim. Dick sent him the time Tim should be arriving in Gotham with the specific instructions Dick gave Tim. Jason thinks about how if only Tim knew how lucky he was that Jason is going to be there. Tim has almost no training at all and Dick has basically thrown him to the wolves, or so Tim will think. And Jason can’t help but even feel a little excited over this whole thing. The last time he saw Tim, he was lying on the ground dying. Because of him. This is how he can start to repay Tim for the damage he caused him and his family. It is the least he could possibly do. Tim might not like him after, but he will be prepared and he will be a good Robin. Jason will make sure of it.

Jason heads out to find Tim, daunting his Red Hood gear and helmet. The drive isn’t too far from his safe house but it is raining tonight, on and off. Yesterday was nice, warm and no rain. It’s a bit of a depressing contrast between the two days. The street lights reflect off the wet pavement and Jason isn’t entirely sure what he’s going to do when he gets there. All he knows is Tim will probably need help and he’ll just take it from there. It’s not exactly how he wants to approach any situation but he’s not sure what Tim will even be doing.

Jason pulls up to a building across the street from an alley where some, surely, illegal deal of sorts is going down. Apparently, Tim is supposed to be here eventually so Jason parks the bike in the dark of his alley before he uses a grappling hook to get to the roof of the building just so he can see better. And then he waits.

Meanwhile, you’ve made your place on the roof overlooking the alley with the van, knowing this is where Tim will be. And you can’t help but feel excited to see him. You miss him a lot even if it is a little hard to be happy it’s under the circumstances of Robin. There’s also the bit of dread and excitement over seeing Jason, working with Jason.

Seeing him means there’s going to have to be some sort of conversation over the two of you being unable to pick up a phone and call each other. There’s going to be some sort of conversation about everything that happened. It’s going to bring back all of the pain all over again. Will you even be able to pick up where you left off? Or will you fall into an awkward dance where you both just fumble over each other until Tim leaves? Or will it be worse? But, seeing him, being around him, always felt the most like home and you really hope he’s okay and happy. You’re excited just to see how he’s doing.

You’re laying on your stomach to take cover while you watch over the ledge but your fingers tap wildly against the pavement at the thought. It’s the hope this goes okay, that he doesn’t hate you. That Tim is happy to see you both. That Tim doesn’t get killed in the first five minutes of being Robin. Excitement, dread, and anxiety flood your system. Why did you agree to this?

Commotion starts from below you and you see Tim on the top of a car while the goons are loading their van. Even in the low light, you can tell the suit is a little different than Jason’s and Dick’s. The cape definitely is with its jagged edges and it’s longer. It fits him actually. You stand on the edge of the roof, grappling hook in hand and knife in the other, ready to slide down the second things get out of hand.

Tim handles himself okay at first but then they outnumber him and they’re faster than he is and better. You know Tim has had a few training sessions but by the looks of it, they could not have been very long or helpful. Things start looking pretty bad for him so you use the grappling hook to lower yourself down but before your feet even hit solid ground, shots ring through the alley, taking out one of the men and then the other. Just as your feet hit the ground, you nail the last one with a knife, turning to face down the alley with your arms crossed. And there he is, walking confidently with a gun in hand.

Of course, he beat you to it.

Jason’s eyes widen behind his helmet. He did not expect to see you tonight. Kind of like last night, seeing you throws him off. It’s a bit jarring somehow. Gotham might be a big city but you travel in the same circles, it was bound to happen. Just…two nights in a row seems…odd.

“I had that covered.” You state through your mask.

Jason can taste his heartbeat in his throat as he keeps closing the distance between you. Your mask always muffled your voice a little but it’s still his favorite sound. He can feel his cheeks burning and a smile desperate to cross his lips. Jason bites it back, trying to keep his composure.

“Where the fuck did you even come from?” Jason quips back.

He is eternally grateful for the helmet. You wre always best at reading him. You could read every expression that ever washed over his face no matter how subtle it was. It was as if you could read each other's minds half the time and he is so glad you can't see him. His eyes are scanning you over, noticing nothing too new in the suit. It still fits you just as it always did, perfectly fitted in the all right places. His eyes go back up to your face, the hood is pulled onto your head. He catches the yellowing around one of your eyes and he almost asks what happened before he swallows it down. It's not entirely his place to ask at the moment but he thinks you're still just as beautiful today as you were the first time he saw you and the last time he saw you.

You point to the roof. “Clearly. And you?” You question, keeping your voice flat and curious, trying to conceal your own nerves.

Jason points a thumb over his shoulder. “Clearly.” He echoes as he stands next to you.

It all clicks then, this was definitely a setup by Dick. Of all fucking people, Dick Grayson is doing this shit? Jason swears up and down this is getting ridiculous. Bruce, Molly, Gar, Dick? They are all trying to get you two to communicate and…maybe they have a point even if Jason never wants to admit it. Not when two of those people are Bruce and Dick. But, he can’t focus on that or how this is sending his head into a tailspin.

He needs to help Tim which means he can’t let his feelings for you get in the way even if ignoring them is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. He has to act normal and like being next to you doesn’t make him want to explode. He needs to keep his cool, keep the smile from ripping apart his lips because even if this is a setup and he should be mad, he misses you so fucking much it physically pains him. He can’t find himself to be mad because you’ll never abandon Tim so even if you don’t speak to Jason while you help him, at least he gets to see you as you. Like old times even if it doesn’t last and for that, Jason is happy.

Jason reaches behind his head, releasing the helmet before he takes it off and you swear you swallowed your heart. He looks so good. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Jason calls, eyes locked on Tim and you think you’ve melted at the sound of his voice.

His voice is somehow better than you remember it. A little calloused, a little rough, but not too deep. It always fit him so well and you’ve never been so thankful to have a mask that covers the lower half of your mouth because your lips are curling into the most uncontrollable smile. Every piece of reservation you had about seeing him completely flies out of the window.

Jason Todd has always had his type of gravitation pull like a planet lost in the universe and you’ve just been sucked right back into it.

You miss him so fucking much.

Tim looks down to his chest, right at the R symbol before he looks back to Jason. “I’m Robin.” Tim states as if Jason should have known.

The subtle hint of a smile comes over Jason’s lips seeing someone else in the Robin suit. It’s weird because it almost feels…hurtful. It hurts a little seeing someone else in a position where he was, not in a jealous way but in a way that he is reminded that was him. He was Robin and he fucked up and now he’s not. It hurts in the way he’s reminded of it being ripped away from his bloody hands. The suit is different, Jason clocks almost every difference in the first few seconds but it is similar. Jason was beaten to death in something similar with the same mantle. There’s almost this part of him that even worries about it. Robin didn’t work for Dick. He didn’t die as Robin but it didn’t work for him. Jason was killed. Where’s that going to leave Tim?

On the other hand though, there is something about someone else taking up Robin that feels good. Jason died but Robin didn’t. Robin never had to die with Jason and he shouldn’t. The people need a Robin and he doesn’t really know Tim but you do and Gar does. He trusts you both and Tim looks thrilled to be here. It’s a mix but there is something kind of nice seeing the resurrection of Robin.

“Hey.” You chime as you walk closer to him.

Tim’s smile splits his face. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be here?”

“Molly tracked you the second a Robin showed up. Knew it was you.” You laugh softly before you pull him into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.” You say as you pull away, your hands coming to his shoulders as you look over the suit, noticing all the difference between this one and Jason’s.

“Yeah, I thought I could handle this.” Tim chuckles sheepishly, realizing he was a little in over his head tonight but not lacking in any of his confidence to do this job.

“Clearly, you were wrong.” Jason closes the distance between you. “You’re lucky we showed up when we did.” Jason stands right beside you as you drop your hands from his shoulders, maybe you looking over the suit makes Jason want to chew his tongue out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I got that.” Tim nods his head. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile reaches your eyes as you beam back at Tim.

Jason’s eyes narrow at you slightly. You seem awfully happy. He knows Tim is your friend but you just seem overly happy or maybe he’s in his own head about it. He just remembers that day picking you up from Titans Tower and it was…similar. It’s like he’s getting stabbed in the chest and the base of his throat knowing you were not happy to see him tonight. The very thought of your feelings disappearing makes him feel like his rib cage might collapse on itself. So, he pushes it away as far as he possibly can and bites back his own words, trying to just be relieved you look happy instead of pissed off Dick set you up. He’s just thankful you haven’t run away. Yet.

“What’re you doing here anyways?” Jason asks with the nod of his head at Tim.

“Dick sent me.” Tim starts before explaining this whole fake plan thing Dick sent him on while you and Jason pretend to act as if you have no clue what he’s talking about.

Jason nods his head. “Well, it's getting pretty late. I got a place. Come on.” Jason jerks his head down the alley before he starts walking, not even waiting for a response.

“Wait, really?” Tim asks with hope.

“Before I change my mind.” Jason states, his back fully towards you and Tim before he puts the helmet on.

Tim’s eyes are wide with excitement. He gets to work the Red Hood?! He knows it’s Jason but he was the second Robin and he doesn’t even know much about him. Gar and you talk about him and he met him a few times but this is totally different. Red Hood is going to help him with this?

“You can ride me with. I’ve got an extra helmet. I figured you’d need a ride.” You put a hand on his shoulder before nodding towards Jason. “My bike’s not far.”

The three of you make your way to Jason’s bike that’s closer and then to yours before you and Tim follow Jason to his safe house. It’s the one you took him to when Crane kidnapped him. You stare up at the building for a few seconds, feeling something a bit bitter in the back of your throat over it. Jason can move on, you hope with everything in you that he is, but as someone who cares about him, it's your job to be bitter and pissed about everything Crane did to him forever.

Tim and you follow Jason into the building, now the three of you in your street clothes after taking a detour to change. You've almost had your eyes practically glued to Jason ever since. And it’s taking everything in Jason to focus on the task at hand and not stare at you with a million questions.

The hallway is messy. There’s stuff on the floor everywhere and even though Jason is walking ahead of you, you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him. Surely, he has time to pick up the floor instead of kicking things to the side as he walks by. Jason is always so meticulous with things he likes but he just can’t help the mess in a hallway or his room for some reason.

“Venta?” Jason asks, keeping his steady pace ahead of you and Tim.

“Yeah.” Tim starts. “He lives down on Harbor.”

“Never heard of ‘em.” Jason states, walking through the hallway where he has a laptop set up before he starts typing away at something.

“Dick says he’s got information on the Organization.” Tim explains as he stands beside Jason, resting his arm on the open counter space.

“He sent you to get intel on the Organization?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Tim says casually, but almost like he wants to be offended you'd question it but then he looks between you and Jason. “Maybe we could team on this.” Tim suggests. “The three of us.”

Jason looks to him, struggling not to glance at you before he turns around and starts walking away swiftly. “I don’t team anymore.” Jason says as the laptop makes a noise, you peaking over at it as Tim trails after Jason.

Security system, and a nice one, too. It looks at least similar to the one used at Wayne Manor and in the Batcave. There seems to be some sort of cloaking system to shield his location from anyone who might be looking for him. You've heard he’s made several big-name enemies in Gotham already which is not surprising. Gotham’s newest crime lord is going to take some heat. Of course, he's protecting himself. You're actually relieved by the system. Maybe the security system lets Jason get some sort of sleep.

“Security activated.” The computer sounds through the speakers above the three of you.

“You don’t understand.” Tim defends while you move to catch up with them. “Brother Blood put my boyfriend in a coma.” Tim watches as Jason climbs the stairs before he quickly follows suit, you right behind him.

Jason knows he has to play this off, even if Tim is going to nag him all night. If Jason immediately jumps to help him, Tim won't learn a damn thing and he'll probably figure it out. Jason has heard all about Tim's intelligence and detective skills. If Tim is going to be Robin, Jason's not going to make it easy.

“How long you been doing this Robin thing?” Jason asks.

“Um…” Tim stutters as him and you enter one of the rooms with Jason, Jason still several feet ahead of you. There’s workout equipment, monitors, a fridge. It looks like this is where he trains and keeps his eyes on Gotham. “Not long.” Tim says.

“A couple weeks?” Jason asks as he looks over his monitors on the far end of the room.

“Not quite.” Tim states, looking around the room.

“A week?” Jason asks.

“Last night was my first night.” Tim admits, almost sounding defeated.

You nearly cackle. “Sorry, what?” You spit back as Jason turns around. The two of you exchange a look of surprise and confusion. Dick did not say Tim had no training.

"Yeah..." Tim looks between you and Jason, unsure where you're going to take this conversation. He hopes it'll get you both on his side. He could use the help.

“Oh, the suit did look fresh off the rack.” Jason states. This is going to take a lot of time and effort. “If I were you, I’d get out of Gotham. Take some reps in like Tucson or some shit.” Jason states as he leans his lower back against the table with the monitors, his hands holding the edge of the table.

“Shit’s been quite a bit messy lately and the Bat’s outa town.” You explain as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Dick sent me here to find Venta.” Tim nearly cuts you both off.

“Your funeral.” Jason shakes his head. “You can crash here if you don’t have plans.” Jason gestures a hand out, offering his place for Tim. “I mean, there’s eggs, beer, cheese.” Jason gestures quickly to the fridge sitting on the wall facing Jason on the opposite side of the room.

“That is a lovely diet, Jason.” You mutter back, earning you a bit of a glare from Jason.

It's not exactly like Jason to not have some sort of variety. Generally, he eats pretty healthy in order to maintain the muscle and physical fitness to do this whole thing but eggs and cheese aren't exactly the healthiest thing, especially with the addition of beer. You know he's been busy with Red Hood, helping Barbara. But, you wonder if this is one of those things Molly and Gar are worried about. You make a mental note of it to ask later.

“Been busy.” Jason quips back, almost gauging how you’ll respond.

“I can see that.” Your eyes widen as your hands gesture around.

“Thanks.” Tim interrupts you, unsure if this will be an argument or some weird banter thing you two do. Tim sets the case with the suit against the wall and that’s when he sees a clear board with a cipher on it that looks like Jason’s been trying to crack. “You working on something?” Tim gestures towards it as he starts walking towards it.

“No. I’m paying the fucking cable bills.” Jason quips back.

“Need some help?” Tim asks, his hands in his pockets as he looks over the cipher.

“Since you’re being nosy,” Jason starts before he walks over to Tim, you joining on the opposite side. “Shimmer’s been pulling off high-end heists all over Gotham.” Jason explains. “Sending ciphers as clues.”

Tim looks over the cipher a bit more and he’s got it. He reaches over for the eraser next to the board and starts erasing some of the code Jason has cracked.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason questions.

“You got your A right but your coding’s off.” Tim explains making you stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.” Jason defends as he watches Tim.

“It’s a Fibonacci Sequence.” Tim states. “Each number is the sum of two numbers that precedes it.” Tim explains. Jason and you take a step back to watch Tim work. “K-L-E-I-D-S-C-O-P-E.” Tim spells it out, writing each letter. Tim takes a step back, a proud smile on his face while the three of you look over the word.

“Kaleidoscope.” Jason states. “Oh, shit.” Jason starts, rushing over to this phone sitting not the table beside the board.

“I just had fresh eyes.” Tim states, still looking at the board.

“Right, nothing to do with being a genius or anything.” You quip back.

“Hey, Babs.” Jason says with the phone now pressed to his ear. “Uh, Kaleidoscope Auction House. That’s the target for Shimmer’s next hit.” Jason explains before he pauses, looking back at Tim for just a second. “And I’ll take my usual percentage.” Jason says before he hangs up the phone. “So, you are really smart.” Jason states.

“Told you.” You mutter.

“It’s nothing, really.” Tim brushes it off.

“Right.” Jason nods his head. “So, what’s your plan anyways? Stick around Gotham until you find this guy?” Jason asks before he walks over to the fridge, you pull up a seat by the monitors.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Tim shrugs. “I asked around tonight but no one seems to know what I’m talking about.”

Jason nods his head, beer now in hand before he opens it. “Want one?” Jason asks. "Water, Gatorade?" Jason offers before his eyes go back to you. "I have other shit."

You roll your eyes, pathetically putting your hands up in defense, keeping your mouth shut this time. For once, you can't quite tell if your subtle jabs are actual jabs or if it's what you usually do. At this point, you're too afraid to ask because either answer sounds a bit too much.

“No, thanks.” Tim states.

Jason pulls a blue Gatorade from the fridge before crossing the room and offering it to you. It wasn't even a thought Jason had because you've always been someone who will not accept an offer of a drink and then drink his. It was more of a reflex to grab the Gatorade for you. A gentle smile pulls at your lips as you take it softly from him, careful not to let your hand brush his.

“Asking the wrong people probably.” Jason answers as he leans against the table in the space right beside you. “Or they don’t you seriously.” Jason uncaps his beer with the remark.

“Second one.” You state as you uncap your bottle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim looks back at the both of you.

“You got your ass kicked tonight.” You state. “I got a feeling you aren’t very good at being intimidating.” You shrug your shoulder casually before you take a drink.

“Hey,” Tim gestures toward you. “I figured out all of you guys and got you to cave about it. I’m pretty good, I think.”

“You’re my friend and I felt bad for lying.” You chortle before you take a sip. "I was at no point ever intimated by you."

“If she didn’t want you to know, she never would have led you to believe otherwise.” Jason takes his own drink knowing damn well you could have, at the very least, hid your own identity from Tim if you really wanted to.

“Still, one of them would have told me! I’m Robin.” Tim tries to defend himself, his voice almost defensive until it finally hits enthusiastic with the mention of 'Robin'.

The way he says it makes you burst out laughing. The amount of times you've heard the words 'I'm Robin' with so much pride and enthusiasm makes it funny. It’s the innocence and confidence Robin brings. Tim isn’t as…cheerful, enthusiastic about it as Jason was. Tim has seen the horrors already but…there is something familiar about it that makes you laugh. You hope he's able to keep that.

Jason thinks he’s melted into the ground with your laugh. The hard part of this whole thing is not going to be training Tim. That’ll be easy. The hardest part is going to pretend like it isn’t killing him to act like this is all fine with him and you. It is killing him not to poke fun at you or ask about everything. This is going to be torture.

“That what I sounded like?” Jason asks quietly.

“Kind of.” You nod your head at him, a soft and beaming smile directed right at him.

“What?” Tim questions.

“Nothing.” You brush it off. “Okay, look, why don’t you stay here with Jason for tonight and I’ll come by tomorrow. We’ll go look together.”

“You do teams?” Tim quips.

“No.” You shake your head, knowing that is a bald-faced lie. “But you’re my friend and I help my friends.”

“Okay, yeah, cool.” Tim smiles widely. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” You nod softly before clearing your throat. “I’m gonna head out then. Uh…” You pause for a second before you get to your feet. “Molly is probably waiting for me so I’ll just text you what time to be ready.” You offer Jason a nervous nod and closed-mouth smile.

You make your way to Tim, giving him a quick hug before you head for the door. Jason almost lets you. But, seeing you and feeling this way? It’s not what he wants. He doesn’t want you to be here just because Dick asked you. He doesn’t want you to be here just for Tim. He can’t just pretend this is all fine.

“I’ll, uh, walk you out.” Jason pushes off the table, earning you to turn around, raising a brow at him.

“Uh...yeah, yeah, okay.” You nod slowly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t touch anything.” Jason warns Tim before catching up to you.

You and Jason walk side-by-side out of the room and your stomach is swirling, turning into a goo. You're nearly vibrating from nervousness being around him again. And he looks so good. He looks healthy. The last time you saw him, he was covered in scrapes and bruises but there aren’t any on his face. You know there have to be some under his clothes but his face looks good and his cheeks aren’t as hollowed as they were before. His hair is fluffy just as it always was. He looks good.

Jason glances at you and Jason Todd is not one to get nervous but he is so nervous right now he’s stuffing his hands in his pockets just because his hands are sweating too much. It’s you and he has no reason to be nervous but his heart is thundering in his chest and he wants to smile ear-to-ear. Everything is different but it almost doesn’t feel that way. His heart is beating for you right now just as it did from day one to day 100. It only ever beats for you.

The two of you reach the door, standing and facing each other. There should be sort of 'see you later' exchange that happens but neither of you entirely know how to do that. Not with each other. You were friends, then friends with benefits, then together, and now you're exes. A handshake still feels far too professional given the intimacy that stands between you and the horrors you've endured together. A wave feels fucking pathetic. And a hug seems a bit out of the question.

It's not even like either of you want to do this whole 'see you later' thing. You both have endless questions and if tonight ends, tomorrow will begin and it might be different again. Jason doesn't want to risk anything in this. So, instead of fumbling his way through a goodbye that would haunt him in his sleep for the next ten years, he starts conversation just to stall you a little.

“What’d you do?” Jason jerks his head, pointing towards the bruise on your eye and he almost touches it. He has to force his hands to stay in his pockets.

“Oh, uh,” You smile softly, touching the yellow with your fingertips. “Molly, actually.”

“No fucking way.” Jason chuckles.

“Yeah, uh, been training her a bit.” Your brows furrow just for a second before you lick your lips. “She asked just to be prepared walking home or some shit. Um…and uh, obviously, you taught her a thing or two. But, she actually fell and I got an elbow to the face.”

Jason lets out a booming laugh and you forget how to breathe. It sounds just as lovely as it did before. Booming and loud, thunder shaking your rib cage free of all its pain.

“It was an accident?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly. “Fucking painful one. This shit is two weeks out. My eye was swollen shut for like two days!”

Jason keeps laughing and his nose scrunches. You swear he’s still the cutest person to ever walk the earth. How could anyone not be in love with him?

“Sorry, you alright?” Jason asks, but the smile is still ripping across his face as he licks his lips.

“I am fine, thank you.” You nod your head, a soft smile on display. “You, uh, you look good, Jay.”

The nickname sends his head into a spiral. He can’t believe after everything you’ve done to each other and the time that’s passed, you can still make him feel this way. You make him feel like everything is gonna be alright somehow. And he makes you so happy. Something so simple and it’s just joy.

“Thanks.” Jason nods his head. “So do you.” His eyes soften with the ease of his words.

“Thank you.” You pull in a breath.

There’s a silence that falls over you and something hits you both. This is a request from Dick. It wasn’t supposed to be a reunion for you. It just happened to work out that way. Jason still did all of that and you still hurt him and betrayed him. Neither one of you had the courage to call the other. It took Tim coming here needing help. Something about that really hurts. Your minds take over even as happy as you are to see each other, to feel the love blossom through your chests. But, you look at each other and wonder how you could ever ask for forgiveness, especially with each other looking so good. So, you don’t. You punish yourselves.

“Molly’s helping me, by the way.” You blurt out on purpose, knowing it’ll piss him off.

You aren't trying to hurt him, you're just pissing him off. Jason will snap and fire back and you think you'll deserve it. Jason Todd has been very good at pushing everyone away and you've been very good at running. But, you know Jason expects you to run. If he ever wanted to forgive you for some reason, he'll know exactly what to do. So, you take a page out of his book and push. It'll catch him off guard, piss him off, and it'll be what you deserve anyway. You push.

Jason shakes his head, eyes widening. “What the fuck does that mean?” He snaps, searching your face for any indication this is some sort of joke.

“She helps me as Bluejay.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Why the fuck would you let her do that?!” Jason nearly demands as he crosses his arms.

Molly is his friend, too. He knew something was going on but he didn’t think Molly was actually helping. At this point, he's pretty sure the two of you have lost your damn minds. Molly didn't even agree with Batman and Robin and now she's helping? All people do in this path is get hurt or worse. Jason isn't going to give it up and he'd never ask anyone to. But, why the fuck would you let Molly help you? If he knows you at all, he knows you shouldn't be happy about it.

“She asked.” You keep your voice nonchalant, knowing that'll irritate him even more.

“Oh, so fuck it, right? She asked and you’re just gonna let her? And what the fuck are you gonna do when someone figures it out, huh?” Jason seethes as he tosses his right arm to the side.

“Oh, but it’s fine for Tim, right?” You question back as you blink at Jason. He doesn't seem to have a single issue with Tim, just Molly which is some of the ammo you were looking to get out of this.

“He wouldn’t leave any of you guys alone!” Jason defends, his hands shooting out to his sides. Molly and Gar have said they're worried bout you and while he's getting pissed off, he's also growing worried. Starting an argument with him is very uncharacteristic. “Molly isn’t a fighter! You’re putting her in harm’s way!” Jason shakes his head before clocking the Tim remark entirely. “I don’t have a fucking say on if Tim’s Robin, by the way. He’s your fucking friend, too! The fuck are you mad at me for?”

“But you were the previous Robin!” You snap back and you aren’t even sure why you do it. You don't want Robin to be the topic of the argument because that isn't fair. You just can't help it, your mouth is moving faster than your guilt and reason. “You’re not bothered by it at all but I have Molly working on a computer and that’s not fine?” You spit back.

Ow.

If there's anything Jason knows about punishing himself, it's what pushing looks like. He's not entirely sure what is setting you off but there's something. You're hitting a low blow bringing Robin into it and while he doesn't want to fight, it hits an exposed nerve. Jason Todd has always hated feeling exposed.

Jason shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “You haven’t fucking talked to me in over a month but now you think you know how I fucking feel about a Robin?” Jason lets out a scoff. “And yeah because Molly doesn’t need to be in the fucking middle of some bullshit you won’t be able to handle. You’ll get hurt or some bullshit, go to her, and you’ll be tracked. You don’t have a security system, bet your locks are shit, what’re you gonna do, huh?”

“Yeah, well, phones work both ways, Jason.” You spit back, choosing to ignore the second half of the argument. He isn't wrong and you know it. “Molly wouldn’t leave me alone about it and ya know, in my experience, the more we let people not help when they are adamant, they do it anyway and then they die or get hurt.” You scoff back. “Seemed better this way.” Sam nearly mutters it bitterly.

Jason can feel his heart breaking again because this isn't about Molly. He knew it wasn't but it's still about him. He's thinking you're not over the fact that he died which you should not be. But, it almost feels like you're choosing to blame him for his own death and that's something he never thought you would do.

“The fuck is that supposed mean?” Jason asks, his voice rough and angered but he’s not yelling. That’s always the most hurtful form of Jason Todd.

Too far. Too far. Too far.

You never intended to hurt him. It's just...maybe there's a lot of unsaid things from both of you because you both were always so worried about fucking it up. What's left to fuck up now?

You backpedal anyway because it is not fair. It's not his fault. “Nothing.” You shake your head.

“No, tell me what you really mean.” Jason keeps his stance, his voice unwavering.

Jason sees it as you blaming him but that's not true. The way you see it, if people want to help, maybe they're better off to help. Jason and you were held captive and dropped from a Skyscraper because you wanted to help and Dick said no. Jason wanted to be Robin and help and Bruce ripped it away. Tim wanted to help but everyone said no. Anytime someone really wants to help, they do and then they get hurt or worse. Molly was going to try and help one way or another. This way, you can keep an eye on her. Though, you can't quite bring yourself to explain it all.

“You. Me. Tim. Dick. Gar. Rachel.” You explain. “All of us.”

“And we were fucking thrown into this shit. All of us.” Jason argues his side. “I sure as shit didn’t pick it--”

“But you would have!” You scream back because it all just hurts again. He's lying to himself if he doesn't think he wouldn't have picked Robin if it were a choice. “Don’t pretend like Robin was some burden thrown onto you because he wasn’t! You loved it. You still do. Bruce may have weaponized you but he offered it to you and you took it.”

He knows you're right. Of course, he would have picked it. It was the coolest and greatest thing to happen to him at the time. He was useful and he was enough. He was finally fucking good at something and he was finally good for something. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere even if it didn't last. Of course, he'd do it again. As hard as it is, as tortuous as the last few months have been, he doesn't think he'd do anything differently.

“Fine, what about you?” Jason quips back. “Dick gave you a fucking choice. I remember that.” Jason scoffs. “You’d take it all back? If you knew how this ended.”

“Of fucking course I would, Jason!” Your voice finally cracks. “Yeah, I’d never fucking ask you to help me and I never would have went after Deathstroke with you or Jerry or any of this shit. If I could go back, I’d undo it.” You pull in a shaky breath and lower your voice. “It hurts all the time. I’d undo it.” You give him a sad and defeated shrug.

It hurts to say it but a part of you, really thinks you'd undo it if given the chance. Maybe you would just tell Dick no. Maybe it wouldn't be like this today. But, there is a larger part of you thinking you wouldn't be able to undo it. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. You found this family and maybe had you just said no, it wouldn't be like this. You've been able to save a lot of people since being back on Gotham and doesn't that make it all worth it? The greater good should win.

You're looking at Jason and you wouldn't undo that. A lot of good came out of you being a Titan. Finding a family and new friends, Molly, learning how to properly fend for yourself and knowing you don't have to. It's all good. And Jason. A lot of good came out of being a Titan and Jason is so intertwined in that, you'd never be able to undo it without undoing you two.

You would never be able to.

You don't want to and this whole argument was just so stupid.

Jason looks to the ground and he knows what you mean but so much of you is intertwined in doing this that undoing that, almost feels like undoing you two. He knows that's not what you mean and you're angry over something Jason isn't sure what. You've talked about it. It's just harder today. It doesn't stop it from hurting though.

“Why put that on Molly then?” Jason brings his voice back down.

“Because you’d do it all over again.” You say softly. “Because Dick would do it over again. And Bruce and Tim and Kory and…all of them without even thinking twice about it. I think even Gar would. Molly won’t regret it and you know that.” You strengthen your voice.

This is stupid. He’s supposed to be doing better here but he fights you anyway. The punishment to himself and you started it. But…it doesn’t feel good to be here again. He doesn’t want to be here. He has fought tooth and nail to be alone and now that he is, he doesn’t like it too much. It hurts to be here alone. It hurts to be here without you. Jason promised you he’d make it up to you one day and yeah maybe he could have called and you could have called. But, neither of you did. Jason tells the voices in his head to shut the fuck up and he bites back at them.

“Just…make sure she’s safe.” Jason swallows thickly, catching you off guard. Jason never backs down. “You’re probably right. Molly can be pretty persistent.” He backs down for himself and for you. He won't let you punish yourself this way. You never let him.

“Yeah…” You trail off, tugging the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands as guilt eats away at your bones. “I didn’t want her help.” You whisper, caving, too. It doesn’t matter what you think you deserve and don’t deserve. Jason doesn’t deserve someone to push him away if he’s trying. That’s not fair. “But…it doesn’t work telling people no so…I make sure she’s okay.” You nod your head. “She is only my eyes in the sky. No one even knows I have someone on the inside.”

“Good.” Jason nods his head. “Yeah…” Jason trails off, his stare going to the floor, the white streak hanging loosely over his forehead.

One of you has to bring it up. One of you has to bring up the time you’ve spent apart. One of you has to say something besides the unsaid words that are nearly strangling you both. It will always feel giddy with a sense of dread and awkwardness unless you do. You always apologize.

“I’m sorry for not calling.” Jason states, catching you off guard and it’s like he’s just stacked twenty more pounds of guilt onto your pile. A lump grows in your throat and not once did you ever actually blame him for not calling you. You think he shouldn’t in order to protect himself. “I just…got busy and I don’t know.” Jason shrugs his right shoulder. “Should have.”

“I-I’m sorry, too.” You nod your head. “I, uh…yeah, busy.” You nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat and biting back tears.

He has nothing to be sorry for.

Jason’s heart sinks because there’s something wrong. There is always something in the way you stutter around him that gives it away. It got to the point where you almost never did. You almost never tugged your sleeves down. It’s more of a nervous tick than anything and now you're doing it again. You're too exposed around him again and Jason can’t help but feel it’s all his fault and it’s too late. The thing you had, that strength that ruins mountains, has just wilted away. He thinks it might be his biggest regret.

“I’m really sorry.” You say more clearly this time. "For, uh, f-for not calling and uh, arguing with you just now. I, uh...I-I don't know." You tug the collar of your hoodie down just a bit, feeling suffocated by the fabric but then Jason sees the silver of a necklace around your neck.

You still wear it?

You open your mouth to talk but Jason cuts you off.

“Is that the necklace I gave you?” He blurts out before he can even process it.

He needs to know.

You look down, seeing the chain stare back a you before you pull the pendant from your hoodie and Jason wants to combust.

“Yeah.” You state, the infinity charm staring back a you. “Uh…” A smile pulls at your lips. You never take it off even when it all feels hopeless because maybe, just maybe, it's not just the cliche of infinity of you but some sort of symbol of hope that you'll find your way back to each other one day. “I know we haven’t talked and this shit feels awkward and shit but uh, I don’t know.” You lick your lips. “Figured Molly would call if you something happened and then…you’d know.”

You're realizing how dumb this whole thing. Maybe you can’t have what you really want. Maybe that’s not how this is meant to be. But you know he checks up on you and you know he knows you do the exact same. It’s silly and ridiculous for you to tiptoe over each other as if you haven’t witnessed each other at your best and worst. You held his lifeless body in your hands. Jason saves your life. Being a part from each other…not worth it.

A smile pulls at his lips before it turns into a smirk. “Someone’s gotta be prepared with your habit of being kidnapped.” Maybe it gives him hope, too.

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan. “It’s been months.” You can't help the smile that crosses your lips.

“You’re due.” Jason quips back.

You let out a laugh, sending a chill down Jason's spine. “I am good on that thanks.”

Jason tilts his back, feeling the same as you. This whole thing is fucking stupid. He needs to swallow his pride and he just doesn’t want you to leave. Despite his habit of spiraling into self-deprecating thoughts, he knows there has to be something left between you. Since the very first day, there has been something there. So, maybe you try this friend thing again. Maybe it'll work out.

“This is fucking stupid, right?” Jason laughs. “Not talking and shit.” He clarifies.

“Yeah.” You nod with a laugh. “Molly and Gar and Tim and Dick have been telling me that.”

“Molly, Gar, and Dick.” Jason groans. “Fuck, even Bruce.”

You let out a laugh. “Okay, you know it’s bad when Bruce is over here giving you advice on this shit.”

“Right?” Jason lets out a scoff. “We good?” Jason asks with hopeful eyes.

“Always were, Jay.” You smile softly at him and in that moment, you make a silent promise to yourself that you don’t care about your heart but you will guard his with every knife you have. “Friends who actually talk and act like it this time?” You question.

“Yeah, need someone to nag me.” Jason sticks his hand out.

“Oh, well, if you insist. Clean this fucking place, it’s a mess!” You take his hand in yours, shaking it softly.

“Since we’re friends, you could help.” Jason quips back, looking at the hallway that resembles the aftermath of a tornado.

You take your hand back. “You could go fuck yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason grins back at you with furrowed brows.

Your brows raise with a splitting smile. “Ask your hand.”

Jason let out a chortle. “Fair.”

“Okay, seriously, I gotta get back. Molly will have too many questions if I stay any longer.” You nod your head, already mentally preparing for the amount of questions Molly will have and knowing none of them will actually pertain to Tim. “I’ll be back tomorrow, you gonna come?”

“Nah.” Jason shakes his head, figuring he'll let the two of you catch up by you showing him the ropes alone for a bit. “You guys go. Dick call you?”

“Mhm, you?” You pretend like you don’t know, mostly to keep the peace between the batboys.

“Yep.” Jason nods his head. “Setup?”

“Absolutely.” You laugh. "Dude still hasn't told Kory but he's setting us up."

"We have to repay the favor then, I guess." Jason offers you a wild and menacing grin.

"Oh, definitely." You nod quickly.

Jason shakes his head with a laugh. "Just gotta get Tim into shape first."

“We’ll get him ready in no time.” You beam back at him with the scrunch of your nose.

“We’ll start training when you guys get back tomorrow but follow my lead.” Jason offers, already ten steps ahead with a plan.

“Because Tim can’t know.” You finish.

“I got an idea.” Jason nods.

“You always have a plan.”

“Always.” The word babe almost slips from his lips.

“Okay, Jay.” Your cheeks burn, sensing it, too. “I will see you tomorrow.” You nod once before you turn on your heels and exit the building.

Jason watches you and his thinks he’s breathless. There’s something reminiscent of the first day he met you. Not entirely knowing much about you. He knows about you today but there’s a gap of time he’s missing. There are two actually because he doesn't know all of the details in the time he died. There are voids he’s missing and what’s changed about you because of them? It almost feels like that first day because his bones are vibrating with excitement and he can’t wait to see you again. It feels like it did then and he would love to keep chasing that feeling.

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