#she's weird but that’s probably expected from someone who was raised in the woods | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paingoes · 6 months ago

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Crash Out

Superstition

hi. this is personally my favorite part so far. hope u enjoy it too :)

(Content: drugs, bad trip, paranoia, psychosis, discussion of institutionalized child abuse and death, discussion of past abuse, blood, burns, guilt)

“Okay so we have to take it at the same time so our trips sync up.”

“I know. I’ve done it before.”

“How much are you gonna take?”

“We can just split it.”

“That seems like a lot.”

Lorelai rotated the froot in her hand. She stabbed along the ring with the scout’s knife, revealing the soft green flesh within. The juice dripped down onto her arm. She resisted the urge to lick it up before they could agree on the dosage.

“I think we split half. We can take more later if it’s not strong enough.” She worked the knife carefully through the half of it. She gave the quarter piece to Paris and took the other for herself. She stashed the unused half back into the cooler bag.

“It’ll feel weird if you take more while you’re already tripping. Not pleasant.” He ate the piece he’d been given anyway. She took her own into her mouth. The texture was surprisingly gritty. Little seeds got caught in her teeth. It tasted salty and earthen. She set her timer.

“Okay, onset is an hour or so?” She glanced up at the orange sky. “We’ll be inside by then, probably. It’ll kick in just as it’s getting dark out. Spooky!”

=========

It was an entire hike just to reach the site. The main road was swarming with cop cars. Every other path was carved through the thick wood. In the darkening light, the edges of the dirt road blended in with the foliage. They saw several people passing through, just as lost as they were. Lorelai jumped as the bear trap caught on the raised heel of her boot, just missing her foot.

“Aaaaa?” She yelled softly, mostly in confusion. Paris bent down to undo it.

“How did that miss you?” He squinted. The mechanism jammed shut again with a loud clanging noise. It was rusted in places, visibly worn down by the elements. He was surprised it still worked.

“Fast reflexes.” She unhappily examined the new dent in her shoes.

The venue came into sight as the tree line withered. It was a large stone building — or it used to be. The walls were jagged and uneven at the top, the same shape as torn paper. The second story was gone, along with the ceiling. Thick vines and lichen grew along the stone perimeter. Lorelai said they were fighting for dominance. It looked like the lichen was winning.

The inner walls weren’t faring any better. It seemed like there might have been plaster once, but all that remained now was stone. There were marks on the ground where other walls had been. Someone had long ago removed them to make more space to party. The only real structures inside were the DJ booth by the north wall and the bar on the east one. Where the ceiling had been before, there were now just rails that lights could hang from.

It was dark when they approached — and the music had already started. People poured out onto the lawn and into the woods, drifting in and out of the fortress as they pleased. Security was lax and the walls were porous enough to facilitate the exchange.

His teeth hurt. The two of them did their traditional act, drifting in and out of each other’s spaces as the night progressed. Crowd anonymity was a wondrous thing. It made him tolerate the presence of other bodies in the space and the indignity of motion. The drugs helped with that too. Then they didn’t.

He felt something slip away, some invisible measure of protection he could not name. Eyes, again. Of course there were. People were everywhere. Under the strobe, they all looked pale and corpselike. He remembered a story he had read a long time ago about the girl who only danced with the dead. He’d had his fair share of ghost stories; sailors loved shit like that, soldiers even more.

He had not expected it to crawl. When he’d eaten the froot before, it had hit him all at once, and receded not too long after. It was fun, if a bit underwhelming. This high had creeped up so slowly that for the first two hours he did not even realize it had arrived. He imagined his own thoughts to be normal and uncontaminated. All it was was just unease and unease and the dead left there too. He thought he felt something shift just beneath his feet, but all that was there now was dirt. He was surer than anything that he was being watched, him specifically. He pulled off from the crowd and out through one of the jagged holes in the wall. Grass grew there. He walked without aim.

There were enough people on the outskirts that he didn’t really feel like he was leaving the party, even as he drifted further and further from the building. He saw them all looking at him strangely as he passed; he would not learn until later he had been talking to himself the entire time. He would never learn what it was he had said. He ended up by the woods, still certain of something creeping and stalking and watching endlessly. Something was wrong. The dirt slipped out from beneath him and on purpose.

Something long and thin stuck out of the ground. He had thought it was a leg until he saw what it was attached to. It was top heavy, two legged, nearly furry with moss. The sign post was as overgrown as the building it described, but the letters were still readable beneath it. He stared up at it from where he was collapsed on the ground, reading it over and over and over again.

Beldam Institute. B-E-L-D-A-M I-N-S-T-I-T-U-T-E. He read it again, just to be sure. Beldam Institute.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered to himself, unknowingly interrupting the string of words he had already been muttering to himself.

He’d had his fair share of ghost stories; sailors loved shit like that, soldiers even more. Soldiers liked to think there was a life after death. They liked to think the people they killed would stay stuck there in the place where they had killed them, forever, their souls tethered to the earth and stood on display for all eternity. Tales of weeping ghosts and the undead children that searched endlessly for their murderers, reading to rend them limb from limb. Trapped together in the place where they had killed them, forever, their souls tethered to the earth and stood on display for all eternity. History couldn’t end, not really. History ate them all whole. The ground was heavy with bodies.

“They buried them in the lawn the first few years,” Delta had admitted quietly, at the end of a long night, after Paris had spent hours prodding. It was the most he would ever say about it and the last time Paris would ever ask. “They had to stop, though. They ran out of space.”

His hand brushed up against something dry and brittle and thin like finger bones.

=========

“Whoa, whoa, buddy.” There were hands on his shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to stop him from flailing. Some douche with a tie wrapped around his forehead was trying to be helpful. He heard his own voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. His throat was hoarse and painful.

“Here. Smell.” The dude held up a small piece of chalky material.

“Getthefuckoffme-“ Paris rasped. His hands were bloodied, somehow.

“You’re okay,” He pressed the chalk up to his own nose, taking a deep inhale, showing it was safe. Paris crawled back a few inches, breathing still irregular, fingers still twitching. The dude offered the chemical back up. Paris reluctantly hit it. The headrush was immediate, overpowering.

“Fuck.” He fell back onto the dirt. There was soil under his nails and furrows in the ground.

“What’d he take?” A girl’s voice asked. He didn’t realize she’d been standing there. She was leaning back again the sign, totally oblivious to its meaning.

“This is a fucking mass grave,” Paris yelled, or tried to. His voice broke. “The bones are pushing up. Look!”

“That’s a stick.”

Paris collapsed flat on his back again, covering his eyes.

Only then did the two of them seem to notice the sign. The girl pushed off of it, clearing the view, studying the lettering.

“Hang on, I gotta look something up,” the dude said. The clearing was briefly lit in ghostly blue as he pulled out his phone. He typed slowly and methodically. Paris knew from experience that he was having trouble seeing the screen just a few inches from his face.

“Oh. Huh. Yeah, that’s what it is.” He nodded, looking perturbed. “I’d probably trip out if I saw some shit like that too, man. That’s wacky.”

Another set of footsteps approached without rhythm.

“I’m tripping balls,” Lorelai said. She had the gait of a baby deer. “Lol, is this where the party is?”

“Is this your man?” The girl asked.

“We’re all working through our feelings about institutionalization together,” the dude explained, “Your friend is having what we call a hard time.”

“What?” Lorelai collapsed down onto the mound just beside him. She pulled his head into her lap, combing her fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist, totally helpless to do anything else.

“Beldam Institute. Where Delta went. It’s where they make them,” he muttered.

“Are you serious?”

They showed her the e-ncyclopedia page. Her jaw dropped.

“Wow. Oh my god, what are the odds? And they throw parties here? That’s…in very poor taste? Wow. What the hell. Wow.” She shook her head. He worried for a second she was getting caught in a thought loop. He made a silent vow to never taste froot again.

Yet another set of footsteps approached.

“You guys good over here?” A wavering voice asked. Keys jingled loudly. For an awful moment, he thought it was the cops.

“Are you two the organizers?” Lorelai asked, “Why did you throw a rave where a bunch of children got tortured?”

“You’re talking about the Institute? I’m so glad you asked,” The other’s voice was slick, “We did a whole thesis on it. It’s a transformative project. We’re revitalize the space and making a statement on its history. All our proceeds go to our mutual aid fund for marginalized groups. We do it in the spirit of resisting imperial order.”

“Their bodies are still buried in the yard,” Paris muttered.

“What did he say?”

“He said their bodies are still buried in the yard,” the dude responded.

“That seems really fucked up,” the girl chimed in.

“We’ve been very conscientious about the whole thing,” the slick one responded, “I know it’s a lot to process, especially if one is, uh, open to the influences. Not exactly a pleasant trip environment. But that’s history for you.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” The girl asked.

“Yeah, he’s just sensitive.” Lorelai twirled his hair between her fingers. “I wonder if there was a basement?”

“There was,” the wavering one confirmed, “It was mostly cleared out by the time we got here. Very hush-hush. But we salvaged some stuff for the archive.”

Far away, the music changed. Lorelai shook his shoulder gently.

“Get up. I wanna dance.” Her voice was all swimmy. He can’t tell if the interference was on her part or his. She dragged him out of the woods and back onto the floor.

Despite how awkwardly she had stumbled, how failing her walk seemed to be, she danced with a surprisingly fluidity even in her drugged state. The air itself was fluid, heady, warm. He danced with her, quite sure she had never once looked like this before, that she never would again. The shaking in his own body stopped and the headache replaced it. All of it was dull and distant. There were whispers at the edge of it. Maenad, they warned.

Very abruptly, she dropped to her knees.

“Oh fuck,” she clutched her head, “I can see it.”

Paris half led, half carried her outside of the walls. She collapsed down on the dirt, looking all around her. Paris pulled the fur hat off her head. It was slick with sweat.

“Oh my god, I felt it. I think I saw the face of it. It was everywhere I looked. I could feel all the misery trapped inside of the walls.”

For a minute, he swore he could make out a skull and crossbones inside of her pupils. He hated froot. She looked terrifying.

He twisted the bottle open and held out both of her arms. The water poured over her exposed skin, bringing her temperature back down. She closed her eyes.

“More,” she said.

He poured the water over her forehead, letting it run down her face, smudging her makeup. She pulled her hair back in a bun. He poured the water down her neck. She gave a ticklish giggle.

“Oh, god,” she said, totally lost. He pushed the bottle into her hands. She poured the rest of it all down her throat.

===========

In spite of everything, the afterglow was incredible. They’d made it back to the room in one piece. He understood what the guides had meant about the aura. Everything felt soft and glowing. It wasn’t euphoric, nor to the point of mania. Just pleasant and calm.

He could tell Lorelai felt it too, all smiles in the ship, even more after she showered. They both needed it badly, even without the time spent in the woods. The smell of smoke and alcohol had clung heavily to both of them. He washed the dirt out of his hair, his own blood from beneath his fingernails. The motel’s soap was scented lavender; he was sure he wouldn’t have noticed it before, but in the moment everything felt novel.

She’d crawled onto his chest when he laid down again, angling the phone so they both could watch. Some animated thing he couldn’t pay attention to. The colors were more vivid than they were probably meant to be. All he could focus on was her hair, the way the curls sprung back into place when he played with them. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder.

“Are you upset about Delta?”

Her voice was sleepy and entirely innocent. It was such a fucked up thing to ask when his walls are down. He’d been trying so hard to avoid it. She was a surgeon sometimes.

“I…feel bad that he died,” Paris admitted, “I don’t think it was my fault the way it happened. I didn’t know. But he was my responsibility. And I-”

He cut himself off. It took him a while to find the words.

“…I don’t know. I hope it was quick. I hope he didn’t suffer.”

The image of Delta chained up and alone while that ship was going down flooded his mind. He squeezed her hand tighter.

Lorelai hummed, “You said it was a rebel attack? Did they say which one?”

“Their guess was Galatea.”

“Hm. Do you think he was the target? It seems a little terroristic for their taste otherwise.”

“They shouldn’t have known about him. All the intelligence just listed him as machinery for a reason. There was nothing in writing to indicate that he was alive.” He’d never had to write any of it himself, but he did read over the field reports. The opacity they achieved was impressive. Critical temperature reached. Damage to internals. Improvised shutdown. There was no good way to talk about it.

“You really didn’t have a file on him?” She clearly found this difficult to believe.

“His doctor did. It was carryover from the institute. It didn’t make it into imperial record. Not mine, anyway.”

“…It just seems like an odd thing for them to do.” There was nothing short of reverence in her voice when she spoke of the resistance. She was struggling reconcile the two thoughts. She had liked Delta a lot. He could see her there, trying to reconcile a lot of things.

==========

She’d had to track them down the next morning — and after that, she’d had to bribe — but she secured one of the large albums they had rescued from the basement. She flipped through the pages as she sat in the passenger seat. Most of it was typed, but a lot of it was written, and all of it was in thick and outdated Latin that she struggled to decipher even as a native speaker. It was the pictures she was really focused on, though.

In some of the photos, it just looked like a normal boarding school. The kids were lined up in rows or going about their day. There were photos of the classrooms and the yard. The next page over, there were photos of the laboratory and the operating room. There were straps visible on the table and along the chairs.

In the training section, the pictures of the students were spliced indiscriminately with the pictures of their victims. Violence marked the both of them. On their victims, burns covered every inch of their skin. Their bodies were twisted at odd angles like they were toys bent out of shape. They wore bags over their head and chains around their ankles.

On the students, the injuries were more subtle. Schoolyard incidents. Short circuits. Disciplinary infractions. Some of the worst ones showed scars tracing up and down their limbs, disappearing beneath the fabric of their uniform. In some, the scars were in the shape of flames. Some were shaped like vines. Most commonly, they were shape of electric discharge. Eyes and fingers were missing, even in the otherwise calm shots.

“Oh.” Lorelai let out a soft sigh. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

She plucked the photo out from the plastic lining, bringing it up into the light. She held it so that Paris could see.

The picture was taken on the side of a hill. The terrain was marked by large scorch marks. A giant dead thing laid in the center of it, the arc of its long neck spiraling out of sight behind the mass of its body. Several kids surrounded it, some crawling over it, others bent down and poking at it. They were all dressed for safari. One of them stood off to the side of the corpse’s thick tree-trunk legs. His hair hung in a long braid down his back, nearly sweeping the ground. His hand was wrapped tight with gauze. Delta couldn’t have been more than ten years old. There was the same frightful intensity behind his eyes, even back then. He was staring straight into the camera.

“Yeah.” Paris looked away from it. “That’s him.”

There were no other photos of him in the album.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

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awkward-tension-art · 11 months ago

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Remain By his Side

Chp.2 Chp.3 Chp.4 Chp.5 Chp.6 (Smut) Chp.7 Chp.8 Chp.9

You didn't expect that during your last year in undergrad, your entire life would shift. The military grabbed you, questioned you, and now you were someone they had on their radar.

Your cousin, Sherry, was as well.

And through all of this, you met Leon Kennedy. The man you'd fall in love with, and remain by his side.

This is gonna start off rather slow burn, but, and i'm going to go ahead and spoil, that reader and Leon DO get together. I want to write a series on Leon's relationship through out his years because of how his mental state changes through the RE series. also i'm actually a sucker for angst. a lot of angst. Also I didn't proofread, lol.

Enjoy! there will be more chapters added.

warnings: Reader is biologically female, but I try and keep pronouns gender neutral. If i ever slip up, i will need someone to tell me. This chapter has, probably, a lot of military inaccuracies. also a lot of FBI inaccuracies. Reader is a scientist and is Sherry's cousin.

Two people, a man and a woman, had walked into the class you assisted. They were wearing sharp, black suites. Their critical eyes swept over the lecture hall of about 40 undergraduate students.

Your professor stopped the lecture on microorganisms, “I’ll give you time to write these for your notes,” He said before walking to the back of the hall.

Your attention was taken by a student raising his hand. Looking away from your professor and the strangers, you focused on the student's question. Before you could answer properly, your name was called softly and you looked up, “Keep your question, I’ll be right back.” you told him before walking to where your professor was.

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, unsure what was going on. Who were these people? FBI? CIA? Why’d they want to talk to you? You were just in your 4th year at the university. Did you accidentally commit a crime? Did you somehow sneak 3 pounds of heroin across the border in your sleep?

Ok, maybe not. But having two individuals with suits ask for you was weird.

The man, with cool blue eyes and dark brunette hair, confirmed your name before commanding, “Come with us. We need to ask you some questions.” Without waiting, he turned and walked out the door. The woman, a blonde with warm green eyes, followed, but turned back to make sure you were close behind. Luckily, you managed to grab your backpack before leaving.

You heard your professor begin his lecture all over again just as you walked out of the class, “Can you tell me what this is about?” You asked them as you sped up your steps to keep up with them.

“No.”

“Who are you?” You asked them.

Wordlessly, the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a shiny metal badge.

FBI.

FBI?!

You shut the fuck up extremely quick.

The three of you left the building, you looked back, hoping whatever was going on would be settled quickly.

It wasn’t. At all.

You were taken into the back of a black van. The agents sat in front of you, staring.

“So…” You mentally cringed at how awkward you sounded, “Can I get your names?” You asked, hoping you didn’t irritate them.

“I am agent Olivia Dunham,” The woman stated, “This is agent Peter Bishop.”

Your next question was a shot in the dark, “Where are we headed?”

“Fort Leonard Wood.” agent Dunham answered. You were pleasantly surprised she actually gave you the truth. You half expected her to say ‘classified’.

That’ll take a couple hours… you realized. Thank god you grabbed your bag. You could at least look over some of the students' papers you were supposed to grade. Besides, it’ll keep your mind busy from the anxiety you felt.

Fort Leonard Wood was a military base. It clicked in your head, “Is my brother…” Was he ok? What happened to him? He had been sent to deal with a situation in Raccoon City. but since then, he hasn’t been heard from, “He’s in Delta Force. Did something happen?”

“It’s not your brother we are concerned about.” Bishop responded, “It's your aunt Birkin.”

Aunt Annette?

“What-?”

“Any questions will have to wait until we get to Fort Leonard Wood.” Dunham snapped, shutting down your questions.

Great… You swallowed and nodded before opening your bag to read and grade students' papers. You were a teacher's assistant, despite being your 4th year in undergraduate. Your professor luckily didn’t expect much heavy lifting from you. Just attend the classes to answer questions and help grade papers. It fit with your class schedule, which was a blessing considering your double major with immunology and microbiology.

Despite your desperate attempt to focus on grading, you thought about your aunt Annette.

You spent the summer with her, her husband and your cousin in Raccoon City. She gave you an internship for those months at Umbrella Corporation, to help your resume once you graduated. It was a wonderful summer. You were able to learn hands-on skills with research and lab work.

You weren’t moving mountains, not in the slightest. Your tasks were mostly shadowing the other scientists, fetching them their reagents and samples, and passing along messages.

Still, the experience was one you held close to your heart.

If something was wrong with your aunt…where was Sherry?

“Is my cousin OK?” You looked up, “Please…can you tell me that much?”

Agent Duhman had sympathy for you. Thankfully, she bent and answered, “Your cousin is alive.”

A tightness settled in your chest and wrapped around your heart. Sherry was alive? Why did the FBI establish her as alive?

Was your aunt dead? What about your uncle William?

What the fuck happened!?

The hours it took to get to the military base ticked by way too slowly. By the time the van came to a stop, you felt sick. Your hands were starting to shake and you had tunnel vision. You barely registered that you were taken out and walked into one of the facilities. Was this an administrative building? Garrison? Or was this a military prison?

The floors were white tile. The walls were painted brick. The hallways felt too small and too long. The lights felt too bright. Armed guards were at every door. You were scared. Stressed.

What the hell was going on!?

“Wait in here.” Agent Bishop opened up a door to a small side room. There were some padded chairs and sofas. A countertop with a small coffee machine and cabinets. The door closed behind you, and you heard the door lock.

Lounge? Is this a lounge?

A small, shrill voice called your name, snapping you out of your stupor. Your cousin hopped up from one of the couches. She rushed to you and hugged your legs.

“Oh my god, Sherry!” You cried, kneeling to wrap your arms around her. You pulled her back to inspect her. She looked…filthy. Her blonde hair was crusted with grime. Her skin was covered in dirt and god knows what else. She had an unfamiliar red jacket over her shoulders. You held her face, “Sherry…what happened?”

“Sherry? Who is this?” An unfamiliar voice, masculine, grabbed your attention. He had approached and you looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, clear and striking blue. His light hair was darkened with mud. His uniform, RPD riot gear, was torn, bloodied and soaked with…god was that sewage? His left shoulder was bandaged with filthy, graying gauze. Underneath the gore you’d consider this stranger boyishly handsome.

This stranger was in a worse off state than your little cousin.

“Sherry is my cousin.” You said carefully, wrapping your arms around her small frame.

Your little, blonde cousin pulled back. She gained your attention and held the dirty police officer's hand, “This is Leon. He saved me.”

“Saved you? From what?” You stood, making eye contact with Leon, “I…I don’t know what's going on. I was brought here from my college…they mentioned my aunt Annette-”

“Aunt?” Leon stopped you, “you’re related to Annette Birkin?”

You nodded, “My moms sister. What happened?”

So Leon told you. His explanation of last night. Undead. Zombies. Carnage and chaos. He told you that your uncle had become a mutated monster. Your aunt had been killed, crushed to death by his claws. He told you what he knew of the virus called ‘G-virus’. He was sparing you details, you knew that. Everything was vague enough that you had to assume some details on your own.

Halfway through his talk you had to sit down.

The destruction of Raccoon City. Your aunt had a hand in the deaths of thousands. You did too, to a degree. You had that summer internship…

You held your cousin tightly. Silent tears slipping down your cheeks. Your emotions were haywire. Now, countless questions bounced around in your skull.

Did your family know? Where was your brother? What will happen to Leon and Sherry? Why did this have to happen?

You didn’t have much time to ask Leon any questions, because agent Bishop returned and took you away. You were questioned for over an hour by him, a soldier and then agent Dunham. Apparently you were a person of interest because of your internship. According to the FBI, it was suspicious that you worked for Umbrella and left a month before Raccoon City fell to undead.

You had to convince them that you didn’t know that this would happen. You didn't know what the N.E.S.T was. You didn’t know the G-virus existed. You didn’t know your aunt was even doing something with such a dangerous virus.

Finally, you were released. You were taken back to the lounge, and told to wait. Your parents were on their way to be questioned. As well as your other siblings. You still haven't heard anything about your brother…

You sat on the couch, Sherry asleep next to you. Across from you on the other one was Leon. He was leaning back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He was waiting for…something. Family, perhaps? A girlfriend? Hell, maybe a boyfriend?

“Thank you,” You spoke softly, “For keeping Sherry safe.”

He perked up and looked at you before he nodded, “I’d do it all over again if I had to.” Leon said with a small smile. Though, you could detect that it was hollow. Empty. He was in pain both mentally and physically.

“You're a good man,” You said, feeling the need to give him something close to reassurance before you continued, “What's going to happen to you and Sherry?” That question had been in your head the moment you united with your cousin.

He shook his head, “I don’t know.”

You frowned, “Where will you go once all of this is said and done?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have any family?” Looking back, it was definitely an insensitive question. But you didn’t know how someone like Leon could have no family.

He shook his head and your heart broke.

“I’m sorry…” You mumbled, “I..I didn’t mean to assume-.”

“It's OK.” the officer gently said, “You didn’t know.”

There was a lot you didn’t know.

You didn’t know your aunt and uncle were making biological weapons. You didn’t know you worked for a company that destroyed a whole city. You didn’t know what a bioweapon was.

You didn’t know when your family would get here. You didn’t know where your Delta Force brother was.

You didn’t know when the government decided to bomb Raccoon City. You didn’t know when the city was wiped off the face of the earth. You didn’t know how many souls were burned away and obliterated.

There was a lot you didn’t know.

#reader insert #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #my writing #leon kennedy #chapter 1

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shares-a-vest · 2 years ago

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“What are you doing out in these treacherous hundred acre woods all on your lonesome, Princess Aurora!”

Nancy screams bloody murder, spinning around at lightning speed, sending the wildflowers she has collected flying from her flimsy wicker basket. She holds the basket out wide with a firm grip, ready to wallop whoever the hell is lingering behind her.

She freezes mid-swing at the sight of Eddie Munson, standing in some weird ninja-adjacent pose, wide-eyed with panic.

“What the hell, Eddie!” she yells, waving the basket about as she stomps her foot.

The move sends a flinch through Eddie’s body as he digs his Reeboks into the dirt track.

“I…” he starts through gritted teeth, slowly raising his index finger like he's trying to make a point. “I probably shouldn’t have snuck up on someone who owns several guns.”

Nancy lowers her wicker weapon and rolls her shoulders back.

“I don’t own several guns,” she clarifies, pursing her lips. “And I don’t just carry them around with me anywhere I go. Anyway, what are you doing out here?”

Eddie stands upright and holds his hands all too innocently behind his back. He swings back and forward on his heels, grinning.

“Looking for frogs.”

She rolls her eyes. Of course, that's what Eddie is doing out near Lover's Lake in the middle of the day on a Thursday.

He basically skips towards her until they are merely a step apart. He looks her over, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Oh no.

Nancy swiftly crouches, avoiding Eddie's gaze as she moves to assess the damage to her scattered wildflowers. He starts circling her, taking large, gangly strides that send him stumbling every few steps on the uneven ground.

“Did you know…” he begins with a dramatic uptick. “Robin broke up with Miss Vickie…”

He tilts his head to the side with expectant glee, his hair flopping in front of his face as he drops lower and lower.

“Y-Yeah,” she splutters, shaking her head as she continues picking up the flowers. “Yeah... Totally sucks… I guess.”

“Oh!” Eddie shrieks, jumping upright. “I’m sure you are devastated!”

She bolts upright and places a hand on her hip, sending Eddie into a fit of giggles. She glares back, triggering an awkward, silent standoff in the serene warmth of the Spring day.

“I’m… I’m,” she eventually stutters, searching for a reasonable defence because, by the look of Eddie’s burning stare and his crossed arms, he isn’t going to let this slide. “I’m just trying to be a supportive friend.”

“Hence the flowers?” he shoots back, sticking out his bottom lip.

He crosses a lock of hair over his face as he leans in way too close, giggling yet again.

She sighs as she looks down at her muddied boots. “Hence…”

Wow, she really was that obvious. But it’s not like she was expecting an interrogation out in the woods!

“Care for an escort, M’Lady?” Eddie asks in an awful fake British accent as he bows and offers his hand. “I'll help you pick some new flowers. It's the least I can do. Besides, we can’t have you getting eaten up by The Big Bad Wolf.”

She takes his arm and hands over her basket, admitting, “I also have Easter eggs for Robbie, too...”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie nods, voice dripping with sarcasm as he pats her hand. “Gotta commiserate with your secret crush over flowers and chocolate.”

They start off along the worn path they were separately following, a popular track down from the main road into Hawkins to Lover's Lake, to find said not-so-squished (and completely supportive and platonic... yeah, that!) flowers.

And some frogs.

#just two almost-adults frolicking through the woods looking for flowers and frogs like they are adventurous children #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic edancy #platonic with a capital p #eddie and nancy #st: easter edition #nancy wheeler ficlet #eddie munson ficlet

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leonowoo · 1 year ago

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“Where you tend a rose, a thistle cannot grow.” (Druvis/ForgetMeNot)

The cold blooded man, the psychopathic partner to Arcana, the cunning manipulator. Those nicknames juggled in her head and all she saw from him was a man who’s trying to show his fondness to her.

Druvis wanted alone time in her woods to process of what's happening ahead, but what she didn't expect was that she had company.

***

“May I join you?” Druvis snapped back to her consciousness as her head raised to the right. She didn’t notice Mr. Forget Me Not approaching her, nor did she develop any reaction when her eyes landed on his pale slender figure.

Druvis sighed as she darted her eyes to a vacant spot next to her, gesturing for Mr. Forget Me Not to settle beside her. Mr. Forget Me Not lowered his head a bit as if he was bowing and sat on the faded green picnic blanket while Druvis stared into the void.

One thing she noticed while working with Mr. Forget Me Not was his flamboyant posture. The way he went from standing to sitting gave off a flexible serpentine movement, and his overall self always remained professional. Druvis always wondered why he was like that in the first place. Perhaps a habit of being around humans took effect on him to be more tense and intimidating. Or maybe he was merely showing the impression that he was actually ominous and superior… Or at least that was how Druvis thought of him before.

The more she was in Manus Vindictae, the more she could see through his reflection. She couldn’t really identify who Mr. Forget Me Not really was but she erased that idea anyway. She had more responsibilities than to assume someone’s self.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Mr. Forget Me Not commented as Druvis hummed in response. She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation. But she didn’t mind his presence either.

Druvis wanted alone time in her woods, but didn’t expect anyone to be in her comfort place. She wanted to stretch her legs underneath her infamous tree to gaze out at the atmosphere and eat scones that she stole the other day in a cafe; Gray mists slithering within the wilted burnt trees, the pale dead grass getting whistled by the breeze, and the subtle silence draping over the skies, oh how it nestled something warm within her heart. Oh to say farewell to her childhood memories in this place. Oh to say goodbye to her home.

The Storm was in a week from now and Mr. Forget Me Not was probably here to warn her. But she didn’t need any companion to soothe her disconcertment, she was better off longing alone.

“I assume that you’re here for business, Mr. Forget Me Not,” Druvis muttered as Mr. Forget Me Not let out a light chuckle. “The Storm is in a week Ms. Druvis-,”

“I’m aware.” Mr. Forget Me Not caught his breath before breaking into another grin. His fangs glinted within the fading sun. Silence draped between the two of them.

Mr. Forget Me Not sighed and leaned to the tree. A weird gesture for a man in a higher status who always seemed so stiff in the eyes of the Weyerhaeuser descendant.

“I’m trying to enjoy my time here the best I could… Perhaps I wasn’t ready for all of this to happen, but I’m still trying to accept things the way they are.” Mr. Forget Me Not stared at her with a genuine empathetic demeanor and shifted in his seat before crossing his arms. Druvis never saw him so moderate before around someone like Druvis, and she thought she was another background character who had no means for Forget Me Not to be comfortable with.

“Oh Ms. Druvis, even if your era was reversed we, Manus Vindictae could always switch the authority to your hands.” Druvis remained silent and perched herself on the tree an inch near the man of Manus Vindictae.

She was trying to find the necessity of Forget Me Not visiting her, because she was neglecting the fact that this man had even a wince of color oozing out from his dead snow skin. That he wasn’t just some vessel to Arcana. That he had the tenderness to approach Druvis and comfort her about leaving the woods in his own way. The cold blooded man, the psychopathic partner to Arcana, the cunning manipulator. Those nicknames juggled in her head and all she saw from him was a man who’s trying to show his fondness to her.

When she was first enrolled in Manus Vindictae, Forget Me Not didn’t leave her side. He was the first one to ever pity her and the first person in that organization to technically ever make friends with her. Clearly his emotions didn’t spike out, but the more they interacted the more that colorless demeanor of his started to get transparent. Druvis wasn’t really fond of it but there was something about this man that genuinely for the first time ever made herself again.

Long ago her colors bled from her skin and she stayed frigid ever since. She refused to be attached with anyone and often disclosed herself to the public. That was of course until Forget Me Not noticed her. She didn’t really care about him up until now she realized he saw potential in her. That in some way they were birds of a feather. Their experiences were familiar with each other, and Forget Me Not was merely lurching out for her. He showed his affection and Druvis was oblivious to see it until now she realized. He’d always ask how her woods were doing, often gave opportunities for her forest to flourish, and entertained her when she first got into Manus Vindictae. He was gesturing something to her and Druvis didn’t give one care about it.

She closed her eyes and embraced the wind whistling through her hair. Forget Me Not was a ghost next to her and for some reason she found serenity in that. She couldn’t help herself but grin a little over it.

“These woods used to be mesmerizing. Even if it was swept by the Storm, there’s nothing I could do to return the soul. The core of what made the woods breathing. There’s nothing else I could do to offer, nothing I can heal. All I could do is to protect it but I guess, I’m not really suitable for the role. I’m still uncertain of how I feel about the woods though. Guilt or regret, still not sure.”

Druvis whirled her head to lock eyes with Mr. Forget Me Not. Their eyes tangled together uncomfortably for a minute and Druvis took her time to scrutinize Forget Me Not’s feature. His dark curls, his lanky glasses framed in his nose, his fatigue foxy eyes, and his pale skin. The urge to take off his glasses and lean closer to him seeped into her mind. Her eyes shifted up and down Mr. Forget Me Not and she opened her mouth lightly.

She wanted to kiss him but she restrained herself. A part of her mind told her to lean for it, because at this moment of her life, it didn’t matter anymore who she was making it out with. It was a kiss that meant nothing, a kiss to take a breather, a kiss of relief, a kiss of acceptance to leave this place. A kiss to erase her sentimental values for her home. A kiss to restart her life.

Her lips finally met his. She didn’t think twice as she fluttered her eyes shut. Mr. Forget Me Not took it by surprise but he didn’t pull away. He was drained to react expertly so Druvis guessed that he was in defeat. The man of higher power in Manus Vindictae showed a wince of vulnerability and so did the protector of the Weyerhaeuser woods. The kiss didn’t hold any meaning and Druvis assumed that Mr. Forget Me Not thought the same. He knew that she deserved this form of affection, he knew that she needed something to loosened up her nerves, he knew this kiss was absent of essence, that it was blurry of whether it’s romantic or platonic or something more.

The kiss lasted for a while and Druvis parted. A chain of saliva connected their lips as they locked gazes again. The Weyerhaeuser heir stared back at the woods as if nothing happened and the slender man did the same. He knew when to react and the affection was nothing short but for mere business purposes. At least that was how Druvis thought the both of them worked this way out.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered as if it didn’t make the situation any better. Forget Me Not let out a light chuckle and Druvis furrowed her brows over that reaction of his. To actually witness Forget Me Not having other emotions.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ms. Druvis. No need to stiffen up,” Forget Me Not reassured. Druvis nodded slowly over the man's response and she didn't even dare to look at his eyes. A taint of blush bloomed in her cheeks and she swiveled away from Forget Me Not's eyes.

She didn't want him to see her facade tumble. She didn't want him yet to embrace her other shadows. She didn't want him to acknowledge her, but she couldn't help herself but endure the thrill of the situation. Druvis’ breath got heavier, her face an obscured blend of warm red, her hands trembling immensely. She reminded herself that this was a natural response, that it wasn't Forget Me Not who got her flustered, but the kiss did.

“Anything wrong?�� Forget Me Not asked. His tone was luring yet held innocence within it.

Druvis fluttered her eyes shut and sighed, trying to ignore his words. Her blush faded away and she focused her eyes back on the landscape of the woods, trying to linger on her ghost manners. Forget Me Not tilted his head and Druvis took her time before speaking again. Reminding herself that this was for business and nothing else.

“Very generous of you to bring back the woods to me when this is all gone. But you don’t have the necessity to do it.” Forget Me Not started at her for a minute. There was nothing except for the sound of the rushing wind and Forget Me Not grinned in triumphant. As if he already managed to wrap his hands around her heart.

“Are you certain Ms. Druvis?” Druvis stared at the man again hesitantly. “I’m never certain.” Forget Me Not scoffed. It seemed like the tension from that brief kiss had wavered away.

“And-,” Druvis didn't continue the words. Reconsidering the words she wanted to say. “About the kiss-,”

“It was nothing,” Forget Me Not said calmly. His pale tone took Druvis by surprise. Acting as if a kiss didn't symbolize anything. As if they didn't mean anything.

“There are other things that will concern you rather than a mere kiss.” Druvis’ face lit up. “And that might be?”

“Unresolved issues.” Druvis furrowed her brows. “Unresolved… issues?” Forget Me Not nodded and adjusted his glasses.

“I don't understand… What issue are you talking about?” Druvis asked as the man of Manus Vindictae huffed. She eagerly waited for his response and it seemed like he was trying to find the appropriate words.

“Have you ever wondered who killed your family?”

#r1999 #reverse 1999 #reverse 1999 game #druvis iii #reverse 1999 druvis #forget me not #forget me not reverse 1999 #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #druvis x forget me not #theyre a divorced couple ur honor #divorced bisexual couple goes crazy

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dragonmasterhiccup · 2 months ago

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(🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 thank you!!!!)

The more she thought about it, of getting to meet Hiccup's mother alongside him, it stunned her for a bit that she was actually there to experience all of this. "...I think that's best...I mean, I never would've imagined talking with...your mom..but I'm glad I got to see her too..."

Freya held onto the cloth for a moment longer, vaguely feeling bad that she was the one behaving this way after he discovered Valka was alive. "Yeah, but...I still should be trying to help you.." Briefly sniffling one last time, she silently asked if he wanted the cloth back with a small raise of her hand that grasped it. "..Either way... I'm thankful you and Toothless are here..." Her mind wandered off into what Blaze might've been going through, attempting to sigh away her nerves. "...For me and Blaze."

When Hiccup slightly leaned in, it brought a faint spark of hope in her that something would happen, but the birds had already gotten her out of that expectation. Despite it being such a short-lived minute, it also made her come to terms with the fact that he probably didn't like her in that manner, remembering that the relationship they named themselves with was fake. 'He can't possibly feel the same for someone who hated him before..'

She hadn't yet acknowledged that she pondered on those things while they continued to hold hands.

"Yeah, sounds good.." Quickly looking at Toothless, she tacitly told him not to make any teasing remarks about them, even though he was a dragon that couldn't actually speak.

--------------

Valka nodded, standing up from her spot on the ground from sitting beside Cloudjumper. "Ah...you're right.." She hesitated to tell them that she wasn't ready to go with them, stalling by properly fixing the wood on the ground to make a fire. "I think it'll be best if..Toothless lit the fire.." She spoke the Night Fury's name in a way to make herself not forget it.

As soon as Freya was able to take a step away from the two of them, Blaze hastily walked towards his rider with a grin. She immediately noticed the difference; he would usually run, but she figured it was because of his wing. "Hey, buddy, how're you doing..?" She gently caressed his chin, looking into his eyes that had the same color as hers, his was only brighter - much more brighter. He lightly grumbled in response as if to say 'I could be doing better..'

Seeing their interaction, Valka slowly stepped closer to her. "He hasn't been showing that he's in too much pain, Cloudjumper has been enjoying his company quite a bit as well." At her statement, the Stormcutter huffed, not satisfied with the incomplete story; Blaze had been trying to fit underneath his wings the entire time.

Freya, still keeping the Sand Wraith near her, quietly voiced out her thanks. Everything that transpired was still settling in her mind, especially with her and Hiccup. 'Geez.. why did I do that..?' She wanted to tell him sorry, to apologize for acting so...weird around him. Was she too attached? Maybe she was starting to invade his personal space...yeah, that had to be it.

Before she could start drowning in those thoughts, Blaze suddenly blew on her through his nose, although it was much softer than he probably would've normally did. Blinking questioningly at him, he nodded at the small pieces of wood in her hair, making her feebly chuckle at the sight of what was stuck in her black tresses. She began to pull the wood out while ambling towards the fire with Valka, the Sand Wraith trekking behind her as her hand would reach out to pat him when she had the chance.

It was starting to become her favorite time of the day, glancing up to see the sky beginning to merge into colors of orange and pink with a faint upward tug of her lips. Ignoring her earlier worries, she chose to sit down next to Hiccup once they were all comfortable around the fire. Blaze yawned while plopping down on the ground in front of his rider, both of them grateful for the comfort they gave to one another.

-------------

After a while of Valka explaining what the 'dragon sanctuary' was like, along with how she learned to stand on Cloudjumper while flying with him due to Freya's persistent curiosity on the matter, she was quiet for a few seconds until dubiously speaking: "...It's getting late now...so we should probably get Blaze home.."

Freya perked up at her choice of words, thinking she would return to Berk. "So you'll be coming with us?" Her tone was hopeful, wanting Stoick's wife to be present in Hiccup's life, while also wanting to know her more.

Those wishes were soon diminished as Valka cleared her throat. "...Not..exactly. I...I don't think I'm...entirely ready to go back..."

With a slight shake of his head, his expression softened. "Me? No, I'll be fine. I'm more than happy to help you, Freya. Today was a bit...earth shattering for both of us. More for you than me... don't push what you need aside, if you let it continue to build up...it just gets worse."

Glancing at the cloth, he said, "Keep it, it might come in handy." She may need it again, if she gets another wave of emotions when her mind continues to try to catch up.

He had to resist pulling her back towards him, which was difficult, since their arms were still around each other. Her comment made that warm, fuzzy feeling come back, and he knew after this it would be harder to hold himself back from acting on his he felt about her. Instead, he managed to say, "Toothless and I are here, whenever you need us."

He ducked his head, keeping a firm hold of her hand as they went further into the woods.

Toothless rumbled innocently, though he was definitely going to tease Hiccup about this later.

--------------

Hiccup lent a hand, crouching down to arrange the pieces of wood with his mom.

His mom. He still couldn't believe it, she was right there, in front of him.

What will Stoick say?

At the sound of his name, Toothless perked up, firing off a quick plasma blast to ignite the dry wood. The fire roared to life, providing some much needed warmth.

Hiccup kept glimpsing at Freya, checking to see how she was doing, but also very aware of the distance they were from each other. Despite the circumstances, it had been nice, having her so close for so long today. Looking down at his hand, he flexed it, thinking about how perfectly her hand had fit into his...

Sitting himself down on the ground, he watched the fire, the events of the day replaying in his mind. He had nightmares every so often stemming from his many near death experiences...would Freya have to deal with nightmares of her own, after today? Gods, he hoped not.

Toothless plopped down behind Hiccup, allowing the rider to lean back on the dragon's side. When Freya approached, his expression brightened, glad that she chose to sit next to him.

---------------

Hiccup was fascinated by his mother's words. A dragon sanctuary? He had to see this!

Plus, he had to admit, it was impressive how she stood on top of a flying dragon. Hiccup couldn't do that, with his leg being how it was, but he was able to stand briefly on Toothless once his tail was locked into place.

Hiccup sat up a little straighter, only to deflate when she declined returning. "But...what about dad? He...he'd be thrilled to find out you're okay, that you're alive..." Stoick was not an emotional man, but it was clear that he still loved Valka and missed her.

"Berk's really changed, for the better! Don't you want to see it?" He didn't understand. Why wouldn't she want to come? To be with her family after expressing so much regret for staying away in the first place?

As his mind struggled to accept Valka's words, his gaze fell to the dying fire, absentmindedly moving his hand that rested on the ground closer to Freya, seeking comfort.

"If not now, when, mom? When will you come back?"

#asks #threads #justpeaxchy

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softguarnere · 2 years ago

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Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 24: Good Ol' Bill

Summary: “Hey.” Bill grabs her arm. He gives her a sage nod. “We’re gonna be okay, kid.” A/N: Behold - some of the first bits of this fic that I ever wrote! These scenes and interactions have been living rent free in my brain for almost a year now, so I hope that you enjoy them Warnings: blood, death, grief, injury, language, war Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @lady-cheeky @latibvles @ithinkabouttzu @lieutenant-speirs @mrs-murder-daddy @hxad-ovxr-hxart

Belgium, 1945

It’s the strangest interaction that Zenie has ever had with another person, to say the least.

When Zenie had wandered far off into the trees by herself, it was because she knew better than to take her chances using the same latrine as everyone else during the day. She didn’t expect anyone else to be this far out. Let alone him.

“What are you doing out here, trooper?”

The merry sounding voice is incongruous with the barren snow and scarred earth that it echoes through. Zenie jumps. After drawing a deep breath to slow her thudding heart, she turns to face him.

Lieutenant Dike’s expression is open and expectant. He’s never spoken directly to her before. She’s never been this close to him. There’s a chance that no one has. Most of what she knows about Dike and his mannerisms comes from watching Luz do impressions of him. With Winters she had intentionally kept her distance to avoid being found out. With Dike she doesn’t have to try because he’s never around. But is this really where he comes? To the middle of the woods – the middle of nowhere?

“Trying to use the bathroom, sir.” At least she’s being honest.

Dike nods. He stands, staring, both at her and without seeing her all at once.

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Zenie clears her throat. “Is that a problem, sir?”

“Hm? Oh, probably not. Good, secluded place for it, I suppose.” He steps past her, not even bothering to look back at her as he calls, “Well, good day, Private.” Then he disappears into the trees.

Zenie stands still, watching his retreating frame until he’s out of sight. She turns the interaction over and over in her mind as she makes her way back to the rest of Easy Company.

“Jesus Christ,” Bill spits when she tells her friends about the interaction. “They’ve really put a maniac in charge of the company, haven’t they?”

George laughs. “Good, secluded place for it, I suppose,” he mimics perfectly in Dike’s voice. He shakes his head. “This guy is going to get us killed.”

“They oughtta put someone else in charge,” Bill says. “Like Compton. He’d do good.”

“Yeah, but with our luck, they’d probably pick Peacock instead.”

“Or Shames,” Zenie adds, thinking back to all of Shifty’s complaints about the other lieutenant.

“Either way,” George says with a shrug. “At least they would be here.” He laughs. “Just wandered off into the trees, huh? Like something out of a campfire story.”

“Telling campfire stories, are we?” Lipton’s cheerful voice announces his presence as he steps up to their little group. They all share a knowing glance – here’s a man who could lead Easy Company. Lipton smiles at them, his voice simultaneously playful and chastising when he asks, “Which one is it? The one where a bunch of paratroopers all get blown to bits standing around in the middle of the woods when they should be in their foxholes?”

They can’t really argue with that. But now might be the time to voice their concerns; for the hundredth time – but maybe this will be the time that does some good.

“Actually, Sir,” Babe pipes up. “We were talking about Lieutenant Dike.”

Lipton frowns. “Ah.”

“Tommy here had a . . . weird interaction with him earlier.”

“Weird how?”

“He found me out looking for the latrine,” Zenie explains. “And then he just wandered off into the woods. He disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Lipton raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, Sir. Never saw where he went. Haven’t seen him since.”

Lipton allows himself a harsh sigh through his nose. He must be – has to be – just as frustrated as they are, if not more so. Whatever he feels, he does a good job at hiding it.

“Well,” Lipton says finally. “There’s not much that we can do about Dike. Just try to keep yourselves warm and keep from getting hit by German artillery.” In other words: get back into your foxholes.

They all nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“Driver?”

“Yes?” Zenie asks.

Lipton points to Zenie’s hands. “Driver, where are your gloves?”

Zenie crosses her arms, tucking her cold hands into her armpits. She had been sharing a foxhole with Joe on New Year’s Eve when the Germans had decided to send them a little present to ring in the New Year. He took shrapnel to his arm and got sent to the aid station. Meanwhile, Zenie’s gloves had gotten blown to bits during the shelling after she foolishly took them off and laid them out in an attempt to dry them. Trench knives, it turns out, are not the best tool to use when attempting to make holes in socks that you hope to turn into gloves. Good thing she doesn’t need the extra pair from the “feet, hands, neck, balls” rhyme that Muck loves to remind them off. The fabric no longer looks quite like either socks or gloves, but at least she has something on her hands. First Toye’s boots, then Zenie got hit in the arm, then Toye took shrapnel to the same place, and she lost her gloves. The two of them are bound to lose something during a shelling.

“They uh – they got blown to bits a few days ago.”

“Huh.”

“But I’ll be fine,” she assures him.

They say their goodbyes as Lipton leaves them. In a stellar imitation of Dike’s voice, George smirks at them and offers, “Good day, Private.”

His Dike impression is coming a long way, with all the opportunities for making fun of him that the lieutenant unwittingly provides them with. Even Joe, when he makes his glorious return from the aid station later that day, chuckles when Luz recounts Zenie’s story just for him.

“That’s pretty good, Luz,” Joe admits as he gives the radioman a friendly slap on the arm.

Luz shrugs. “Eh, it’s okay. Needs some work, but it’s coming along.”

“Is it true?” Popeye asks when Easy Company returns to their position near Foy that afternoon. The Virginian’s eyes are wide as he looks at Zenie expectantly. “About Dike? Did he really just walk off into the woods?”

“How’d you hear about that?”

“Everyone’s heard about it.” Shifty nods towards Luz, several feet in front of them as they walk. “Don’t think there’s anyone that he hasn’t previewed his impression for.”

“Except for Dike, I hope,” Zenie says. Although if it really came down to it, Luz probably would do an impression of Dike to the lieutenant’s face. Dike would probably misunderstand the joke and take it as some kind of flattery, accidentally giving Luz all the more to work with. The idea makes her giggle, and beside her, Shifty and Popeye also laugh.

It’s good to be back with them. She can only hope that they don’t get sent to the Out Post this time. After every round of German artillery fire she had had to wonder where they were, if they were okay. Now if she can just keep them near her and the rest of Second Platoon –

“Hello, boys!” Bill chirps as he hops into a foxhole between Zenie and Shifty. He slings an arm over each of their shoulders, beaming at them.

“Hey, Bill. You sharin’ a foxhole with us?” Shifty’s question is polite enough, but he still glances around the other sergeant at Zenie, brows slightly furrowed.

Bill shrugs. “Well, everyone else has been findin’ shit in their foxholes, and this one looks clean enough.” He sits down. After exchanging a glance, Zenie and Shifty slowly take a seat on either side of him.

This isn’t the first time that this has happened, now that she really thinks about it. Ever since Shifty got to come back from the OP, Bill has managed to show up in whatever foxhole the two of them have been sharing. And, just like now, he’s had no problem making himself comfortable sitting right between them.

Shifty must be realizing the same thing. He gives Zenie a knowing look, but he bites his bottom lip and says nothing.

“Bill, what’s really going on?” Zenie asks.

The Philadelphian gives her an incredulous look. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to sit with my friends?” A hint of a smile pulls at his lips as he leans in and lowers his voice. “Or to keep an eye on them?” He puts his arms out again and pats them both on the shoulder. “That’s right; no hanky-panky on Ol’ Guarno’s watch!”

“There hasn’t been any –“ Shifty clears his throat. “– uh, hanky-panky.”

“Really? Not even in, I dunno, Paris?” Heat rushes to Zenie’s face at the same moment that Shifty’s eyes go wide.

“How did you - ?”

“Nothing gets past me, kid.” Bill winks. “Word along the rumor mill is that you finally lost your virginity, supposedly on that pass to Paris. After I learned your secret, well, it didn’t exactly take a genius to piece it together.”

Babe. It had to be Babe! He was the one she told about losing her virginity. Of course he told Bill! They might be her friends, but the last thing she needed was for them to know details of her sex-life. She buries her face in her hands to hide whatever face she might be making.

“Hey, it’s all right.” Bill pats her on the back again, and when she looks up, he’s smiling, though Shifty’s cheeks are still a little pink. “Just watchin’ out for you, la mia sorellina.” My little sister. Zenie doesn’t have time to fully process his words before her friend turns to Shifty. “Just don’t go hurting her, okay?”

“I would never,” Shifty says.

Bill smiles. “I know.” He claps his hands and stands. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, I guess I better go find a foxhole.”

Neither of them speaks after he leaves. Zenie squeezes her eyes shut, like if she’s very still, the embarrassment will wash away and Shifty will forget about the interaction.

There’s a laugh, bright and crisp – from Shifty. He’s still chuckling when Zenie opens her eyes. The sniper shakes his head. “Good old Bill.”

“I’m sorry,” Zenie says automatically. Her face is still warm.

“Don’t be,” Shifty replies, voice still bright. “You’re our girl. He’s just watchin’ out for you.”

Il mio fratellino, Bill had once called her. Now he’s corrected it to la mia sorellina. He’s always been watching out for her, since way back in Toccoa. Even when she had been ready to fight him on her first day there. That’s what it feels like, then, for someone to always have your back. It’s not bad.

Somewhere nearby, a shell explodes. Screams of “Incoming!” follow it as the earth begins to shake. Zenie hunkers down, getting as low in the foxhole as she can, Shifty tucking in beside her.

Now she understands why their old position looked so different when they returned. The snow that blankets the ground is dirty, all churned up and mixed with soil. This is no peaceful woodland scene from a winter postcard. No, between the trees that have been broken down to nubs, the excrement that waits at the bottom of several foxholes, and the piercing explosions that shatter the air and shake the earth, this is the furthest thing from peaceful.

It ends suddenly. Zenie sits up and looks around, rifle at the ready. Her eyes dart in every direction. Behind her, Shifty takes the same position, watching the opposite direction. He’ll be able to see any approaching Germans from a mile away. Zenie has no doubt about that. After all, this is the same man who, just days before, realized that the Germans had disguised a tank as a tree.

“Anything?”

“No. No – “ Shifty stops short. Somewhere out there, a voice is carried through the forest. It sounds hazy. The echo distorts is, making it hard to pinpoint its location.

“Who is – “

“Stay in your foxholes!” Sergeant Lipton yells as he runs by. He stops a few feet away from them and looks down into a different foxhole. “Are you good, Popeye?”

“I’m one hundred percent ready to kill Germans, Lip!” Their friend chirps. As Lipton passes, he catches sight of Shifty and Zenie, offers them a big smile and a thumbs up, which Shifty returns.

Shifty relaxes a little. “That can’t be the end.”

“You think they’re trying to zero us in?”

“Hmm.” A crease appears between Shifty’s eyebrows. “They – “

Ka-BOOM!

So close to the line, maybe the Germans can hear them. Maybe they took their speculations as suggestion and started the next round of artillery fire.

Once again, Zenie slides down into her foxhole and braces herself. Trees crackle overhead as they burst into pieces, raining down all around them and impaling themselves into the frozen earth. No wonder so many of them have been hit by shrapnel. Zenie unconsciously reaches for the place on her own arm where she got peppered with it. Lucky, indeed.

“M-MEDIC!” A deep voice thunders out.

Snow crunches as Eugene goes racing by. He doesn’t stop to answer when a few men call out, “Who got hit?” Duty calls, and Eugene always answers.

From somewhere nearby, an all too familiar voice screams for help. His South Philly twang is strong, even with his raised voice. “Is anyone there?!”

Babe! Zenie leaps from the foxhole. Shifty reaches for her, but she’s already gone.

An entire tree was felled during the bombardment, collapsing right on top of Babe’s foxhole. Through the branches, everyone who crowds around can only just see the top of his helmet, can make out the shape of a hand reaching up for them.

Babe sounds . . . desperate, almost, as he urges them to get him out. It’s not a tone that Zenie has ever heard from him before. Like his sadness after Julian’s death, it feels unnatural on someone so happy-go-lucky.

Breathless, Babe manages a laugh and a smile when they manage to pull the tree away. “Think I went overboard on the cover for my foxhole?” He jokes.

Zenie manages to laugh it off, too, as do most of the others who arrived in time to help him. Except for the one person who’s known for laughing, that is.

From the corner of her eye, Zenie catches a flash of Luz racing by. He doesn’t stop at the sound of their chuckles, doesn’t even look at them. Focused, he hurries back to his foxhole.

There’s some commotion from the direction that he came from. With Babe uninjured and accounted for, Zenie steps away from the group and follows the direction that Luz just left.

A metallic scent stains the air, mingling with the scent of burned trees and charred earth. Freshly snapped trees litter the ground. And the ground around the shattered pieces is that peculiar mixture of snow and dirt that has become such a familiar sight in their month watching the line. This snow, though, has an extra quality to it – blood. Zenie doesn’t have time to wonder where it all came from, because at that moment, she spots a leg lying a few feet away from two figures sitting amongst the destruction.

Joe is in the center of it all, Eugene kneeling in front of him, trying to stop the blood that’s flowing freely from the place where his leg has been blown off. A few feet away from him, a trail of blood leads to another man who’s sitting propped against a tree, gritting his teeth and staring at his outstretched, mangled leg.

Zenie freezes.

From where he sits in front of the tree, Bill looks up at her. When their eyes meet, he holds her gaze, steady as ever.

“Hey, Tommy Boy,” Bill calls to her. “Be a pal and light me a smoke, would ya?”

Somehow, she finds herself on her knees beside her friend. She can’t feel her hands. They won’t stop shaking as she fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket. Bill doesn’t complain, though, about how long it takes her to remove one from the pack, to finally light it and place it between his lips.

“Thank you,” he manages around the cigarette.

She might reply. If she does, she can’t hear her own words over the pounding of her heart. Her spine turns into a tube of ice water, making her shiver as she watches her friends. This can’t be real. Out of everyone, Bill and Toye can’t be the ones going home.

“Bill, you’re goin’ first,” Eugene calls.

Bill nods, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Whatever you say, Doc.”

The next thing that she knows, some of the men are loading Bill onto a stretcher. He yells out in pain when they move him, cursing as they touch his injured leg. The cigarette in his hands falls to the ground, extinguishing itself on the snow. Numbly, Zenie stamps it out.

“Hey.” Bill grabs her arm. He gives her a sage nod. “We’re gonna be okay, kid.” As chipper as he can manage, Bill calls out as they carry him away, “I told ya I’d beat ya back to the States, Joe!”

Someone touches Zenie’s arm, making her jump. Sergeant Lipton is studying her with his all-knowing eyes. “Tommy, are you okay?”

He doesn’t stop her when she walks away, never answering his question. No one calls out after her or tries to follow her.

She doesn’t make it back to Shifty in their foxhole. Instead, she drops down into the nearest one that she sees. Her helmet feels heavy in her hands as she removes it and runs a shaking hand through her hair. Any time that she cried as a little girl, her mom would stroke her hair like this.

But Mama isn’t here now. No one is. She’s all alone.

Words – the words she wants to scream up at the sky, up at God, if He’s really up there – stick in her dry mouth, lodging in her sandpaper throat so that she chokes on them. It’s not until she’s been sitting there, shaking for a thousand years, that she manages to loosen them enough to whisper to no one the single sentence that keeps racing through her mind.

“What the fuck?!”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x original female character #shifty powers x ofc #bill guarnere #eugene roe #babe heffron #joe toye #my writing #oc zenie mcglamery #hbo war fanfic #hbo war

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years ago

Text

Hush, Baby Girl

"Okay, first things first, you can't smoke around the baby." Steve was holding Thea as Eddie sat on his bedroom floor. The metalhead was currently trying to assemble the crib they bought, but he struggled to find the specific piece used to connect the railing to the bed.

"I know," Steve rolled his eyes, "believe it or not, I actually passed health class last year."

"Just making sure." Steve looked around the messy room. Clothes and DnD books were scattered everywhere, making it almost impossible to see the carpeted floor. It was crowded but also very Eddie. Steve was almost jealous. If his room looked any less than picture perfect when his parents got home, they'd probably have an aneurysm. Eddie pulled away from the crib with a triumphant look. Giving it a few hard thwacks and grinning.

"Not half bad for someone who failed shop, if I do say so myself."

"You failed shop?"

"Not gonna lie, I almost exclusively took the class for access to the fancy wood glue they use." Eddie admitted as he tore the plastic off ths crib mattress. Setting it in the cot, Eddie took Thea from Steve's arms. Gently cradling her in his arms, Steve was struck by how weird it was to see Eddie Munson of all people with a baby. Scary drug dealer, supposed murderer...cute dad. Wait. Cute wasn't a good word. Steve shook his head. Dudes didn't call other dudes cute. Well, some dudes did. But Steve was not one of those dudes. At least, he was pretty sure he wasn't....yeah pretty sure.

"What's with the look, Harrington?" Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow. Steve realized he must have looked weird just staring straight ahead at the other teen and he shook his head.

"Ugh, nothing. Just thinking."

"Huh. I thought I smelled something burning." Eddie joked as he laid Thea down on the mattress. He stared at her, expecting something. But she did nothing save stare up at them with her big brown eyes. The metalhead let out a sigh of relief as he fell back on the bed next to Steve. Letting out an exhausted groan as he stretched his body out. "God, who knew babies were so much work."

"Everybody." Steve deadpanned. Eddie playfully slapped him on the shoulder before his eyes turned back to Thea.

"....I don't want to fuck her up."

"Huh?" Steve asked as Eddie sat up.

"I don't want to fuck her up like my parents fucked me up." The older boy clarified. "Look at me. I haven't graduated, I sell drugs, I still live with my uncle...I shouldn't be raising kids. What if she ends up like me? A druggie deadbeat..." Eddie trailed off as his voice hitched. Steve frowned, turning to face Eddie.

"Hey, don't say that." Steve argued. "Listen, just because your parents sucked, it doesn't mean you'll be a bad parent. I like to think I turned out okay for someone with shitty parents. I mean, I'm not going to medical school or whatever, but I'm doing alright." Eddie's nose scrunched up as he opened his mouth to respond when there was a loud knock on the front door of the Munson trailer. This startled Thea, causing her to start wailing.

"Whoa, hey, hey, don't cry." Eddie went over to the crib and carefully picked her up. Patting her on the back reassuringly as he inclined his head to look into the hallway.

"Expecting someone?" Steve asked as he followed the now visibly annoyed metalhead into the living room. The two navigated around the bags of unopened baby items until they were at the front door. Eddie yanked it open, ready to chew out whoever upset Thea when he paused, recognizing the gaggle of freshman on his doorstep.

"I..." Eddie trailed off, unsure what to say. The kids' eyes already honed in on the baby in his arms.

"What are you guys doing here?" Steve asked as the kids' eyes remained locked on the crying child.

"You didn't call me back this morning." Dustin explained. "We were making sure everything was okay."

"Oh-shit, sorry I forgot. We got...busy." Steve turned back to Thea as he said this.

"Yeah, I can see that-why the hell do you have a baby?" Will asked, mouth agape.

"Her name is Thea, and for Christ's sake, could you keep your voice down?' Eddis snapped as he hushed the baby in his arms. "I'll explain after we get her down for a nap."

#thea #stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #au #amalthea munson #wish baby #wish baby au

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gtraccoon · 2 years ago

Note

I want like Robin x A fem!shrunken reader Like robin needs to take care of bestfriend who she has had a huge crush on and so does the reader

this is adorable

robin x tiny!fem reader

warnings: light swearing. reader is fem and lgbtq+ (wlw) in this. if you don’t want to be depicted as those things, then you don’t have to read <3 ill still love u

background info: this takes place in the same universe steve’s a sizeshifter so that explains partially robin’s actions and statements

secrets

You two were sitting on the couch at Eddie’s trailer. Robin wanted to get away from home, and Eddie offered to let her spend the night. He wasn’t there currently, so it was just you two. Robin didn’t want to be alone, so then you decided to hang out with her. But it was just so boring doing nothing. You look over to her, and she glances back at you, blinking. Then she suddenly perks up.

“Oh! Y/n, I know what we can do! We can go for a walk through the woods!”

“The creepy woods next to here? That seems dangerous for two teenage girls to go out alone, especially with it being dark like this.” Robin rolled her eyes, facing you.

“Besides the fact that idea is really ominous and maybe a bit terrifying it would be fun! Besides, we don’t need a man to protect us. That’s a moral I live by.”

“Is that a moral?”

“I don’t know. But do you have any other ideas of what to do?” You sit silent for a few seconds, and she smirks. “That’s what I thought. Get your shoes on, or I’m leaving without you.”

You frown, reluctantly standing and tugging your converse on. They had sharpie marks all over them, drawings, words, ect. You got the idea from Robin, who wrote over her red ones. Yours were white. Easy to draw on, you thought.

She had them laced and tied before you did. You had your laces tied in stars, you thought they gave your shoes personality.

“Hurry,” She urged you, and you groaned, but grabbed her hand to help you up. You kept hold of her hand for a few seconds. Her hand was so soft and warm, it just fit right together with yours. You pulled away, embarrassed, and she opened the door, her face flushed red.

Your walk was mostly silent, but once you reached the woods, you decided to break it.

“This was a good idea. It’s nice out.” You say, looking up at the sky. It was sunset. The sky was darkening by the minute, but that made everything just that much prettier.

Made her just that much prettier.

You push the thought out of your head. She wouldn’t like you back. Besides, you two were fine as friends.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the crisp air.

“Hey, Y/n, what’s that?” She said, tapping on your shoulder. You opened your eyes. She pointed, and you tracked the direction until your eyes landed on a blue jar.

“You expect me to know? Probably some kids science experiment.” You shrug, but she’s already walking over to it. “Hey, Robin, I don’t know if this is a great idea.”

“Why?”

“Uh.. What if someone’s fermenting it?” She raises her brows, but then frowns at you.

“You’re stubborn.” She said, grabbing the jar. “Hey,” She exclaims suddenly, looking at you. “I’ll give you a dollar if you drink this.”

“Uh, what? Hell no!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “Are you insane?” She just shrugs, opening the lid.

“Oh, shit, it smells bad,”

“Oh my God, you’re so dumb,” You giggle at her stupidity, but when she tries to stand, she trips over a root and dumps the contents of the jar over your clothing.

“Shit, i’m sorry,” She said, covering her mouth. “Oops.”

“Damnit! This was a new shirt!”

“Didn’t you get it, like, a year ago?”

“Time’s a weird concept.” You mutter, feeling your arms tense. Like when you worked out, lifted something just a bit too heavy, and your arm tensed up to the point it hurt. Robin noticed your expression, and stepped forward.

“We should get home.” Before you can even move, you’re on your knees, about to vomit. Robin is awkwardly standing over you. You know she doesn’t do well under pressure, but, God, you wish she had the thought process to take your shirt off, or something, but she was too nervous.

You start to take your shirt off, staring down, and suddenly you hear her call out.

“Uh, y/n,” She says, just as you pull your shirt off. You were wearing a white tank top beneath it, so it’s not like you were showing anything. “Y/n! What the hell?” She exclaimed, walking over to you. When you look up, you gasp and freeze.

She looked taller. She was nearly towering over you. You knew you were kneeling, but you weren’t that short, and you kept shrinking. You cover your mouth. “No, no, shit, this isn’t happening, this is NOT happening.” You look down. The liquid had absorbed into your skin. That’s what must’ve been causing this.

“What… what’s happening?” She asked, stepping back, and you take a step back too, but make it much less far. She considered it being a sizeshifting thing, but, you hadn’t been over emotional, had you? And only this had triggered it?

“I- I don’t know,” Tears streak your cheeks as you curl into yourself. As you felt the size change stop, and you opened your eyes, looking up. You were so glad it was your best friend and not a stranger. She was probably one of the least threatening looking people on earth, her warm smile and personality. She crouched down next to you.

“I don’t.. we’ll figure this out together, okay?” She seemed uncomfortable, tapping her fingers against her knee. She held her hand out, helping you up. “Do you wanna go home, or-“

“No!” You yell. “I mean- shit, no… I don’t need anyone else finding out about this. People are gonna hurt me…”

“No ones gonna hurt you.” She says, tilting her head as you stare up at her with glossy eyes. “I promise. Tell you what, y/n, if you’re not back to normal by tommorow, we’ll talk to Steve about it. I work with him. He knows about this stuff. But let’s, for now, hope that this situation fixes itself.” She pauses. “Can you walk?”

“I don’t know. I feel weak,” You say, wiping tears from your eyes. You were so glad Robin already had experience with this stuff.

“I can carry you, if you’d like. Don’t feel pressured, though,” She added, and you contemplated before nodding. She held out her hand, and you stepped on, holding onto her fingers as she stood. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. We’ll fix this, okay?” She hurried back home, cupping her hands around you in her own anxiousness to keep you safe. When you two got back to the trailer, she set you on the counter, and crouched down to be eye level.

“This is gonna be weird for a bit.” She says, and you nod in agreement. “I guess you learn something new every day, like.. what it’s like to be 2 inches tall.”

“Or how cool it could potentially be.” She side-glances at you, and you sit on the counter. “Haven’t you ever wondered what it was like to, i don’t know use a ruler as a diving board?”

“I have a lot of weird thoughts, but that is not one of them. Thought about sleeping in a matchbox though.”

“Close enough. I’ve thought of the ruler one more, though. Imagine swimming in a cup of soda, or somethin’,” You explain, your vision getting blurry. You yawn.

“Tired?” She asks, and you nod sleepily. She gently lifted you off of the counter, laying on her back atop the couch. She placed you on her chest. You could hear her heart beat, and her steady breathing. To be completely honest, it was a comfortable position, and you felt your face heat up when you thought more about your position. She was so cute. She cares so much about you. You loved her. You really loved her.

You could only wish she loved you too.

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, IVE BEEN WRITING IT I JUS HAVE SCHOOLWORK LOL!! I DO LOVE WRIITNG THO BUT I HAVE A COUPLE ASKS TO GET TO. ILL GET TO ALL OF THEM IT MIGHT JUST TAKE A LIL BIT IM SPEEDRUNNING THIS

#g/t stranger things #stranger things g/t #g/t #stranger things #short story #t!reader #shrunken!reader #tiny!reader #g!robin #giant/tiny

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

Text

1,000 Follower Special

Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:

Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy

~No minor members obviously~

Dream:

When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.

The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.

Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.

Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.

One day instead of them you were standing in their place.

The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.

It was safe to say he was addicted.

He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.

Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments.

To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.

If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant.

He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle.

Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot.

You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms.

He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.

Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours.

He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth.

He then promptly passed out in your arms.

Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed.

He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.

At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself.

You were his good girl.

GeorgeNotFound:

Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going.

She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed.

She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots.

Oh no she was mean and hot.

You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something.

You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.

He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him.

Having no other options he agreed to go with you.

As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted.

(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)

He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew.

You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.

As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.

Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?

He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.

It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him.

They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.

Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red.

The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another.

George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back.

It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you.

He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face.

“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”

“I won’t my savior.”

Sapnap:

At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone.

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.

It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you.

Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness.

“You like her Sappy Nappy.”

“What no I- Oh shit.”

That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you.

Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over.

Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.

Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire.

You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head.

He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).

From that moment on the both of you started dating.

You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him.

When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him.

You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened.

You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought.

He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.

When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up.

You were his little Firecracker.

Technoblade:

You were Phil’s little helper.

For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows.

At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around.

Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter.

The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core.

Oh no, you were hot.

Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight.

You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.

He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound.

You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder.

In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.

The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red.

You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’

Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.

The glare he sent his old friend was piercing.

As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer.

Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears.

You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved.

He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features.

The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively

Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government.

You were his Princess.

Philza:

He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away.

That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death.

Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.

You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly.

He didn’t know much about you only that:

You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.

It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.

Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution.

After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.

You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule.

He fell in love with you.

When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion.

He was promptly placed under house arrest.

You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet.

Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly.

The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him.

You and Phil didn’t intervene.

After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.

Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his

You both acted like an old married couple.

Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating.

Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you.

He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed.

You kissed him at the end of the night.

It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you.

You were his angel

Wilbur:

After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.

That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you.

You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean.

You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.

He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him.

You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall.

After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic.

He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint.

The two of you were an item not soon after.

Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude.

They both loved when you sang the best.

You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell.

You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly.

When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft.

Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.

Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.

“Go get them, Wilby.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia.

You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death.

As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.

He told you he loved you on his last breath.

You were his muse.

Fundy:

Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.

You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes.

You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer.

Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.

He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.

Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you.

Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms.

Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.

Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.

He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him.

Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession.

His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging

Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you.

Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad.

You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him.

Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well.

After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.

As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again.

He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.

However, that was still a long way away.

For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.

~~~

Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊

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nineteenninety-six · 3 years ago

Text

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol.

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

#Hector #hector castlevania #Castlevania #castlevania imagines #hector x reader #imagines #castlevania imagine #imagine #x reader #castlevania fanfiction

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years ago

Text

Of Monsters And Men

(Season 2)

Chapter 8 - Dear Friend

Summery: Trying to help Ciri understand herself better have you made it to the Temple of Melitele where you meet someone you had not been expecting.

Warning: adventure, fluff, oh hello whats this some SMUT yes there you go

Word count: 9188

Masterlist - Of Monsters And Men masterlist here

Your life just can't seem to ever settle down now can it? Probably not, but then again you've never truly been one to just pack it up and find a nice little place in the hills away from everyone where you'd stay to live out the rest of your days. Though that would be nice at times, that's not you when it comes down to it.

However, and as always, you're traveling over the perilous land of the Continent with the goal in mind of bringing Ciri to this temple where hopefully someone within may find a way to better help her. She still doesn't understand her own gifts. And hell, neither do you nor Geralt.

Being a parental figure for the very first time is one fucking weird and stressful endeavor you're still not so certain is a good idea. Clearly too late for that, but alas, it is not all terrible as you had once thought. But the cost of Cirilla's safety so far has admittedly been a hectic one that's pushed you far more then you'd ever been expecting.

But like your mother who raised you through her wisdom and strength can you try and do the same with Ciri. You did have a pretty damn good childhood after all, your teenage years even better. Unfortunately Ciri can't exactly say the same, but you're determined to change that. She will find peace within herself, you'll make damn sure of that.

You've kept her alive this long after all.

Geralt found her in the woods, you both protected her from Nivellen's secrets, brought her safely to Kaer Morhen, protected and trained her there. And killed the chernobog when it's heart was set on murdering the poor princess, and now you and Geralt are leading her to the Temple of Melitele.

You can tell she is still conflicted inside about herself and everything else, but her power must be understood. And Triss can only do so much, Geralt doesn't know anything really, and you know fuckall about powerful magic. You may be able to sense it, smell it even, but you're no mage when it comes down to it. So this trek to the temple is a necessary part of raising Ciri and helping her to figure her shit out.

You just hope nothing weird happens. But when do you get so lucky? Not often enough is the correct answer.

Stepping over a grey rock sticking out of the grass can you see the bright blue sky above when you three make it out of the forest. You can still smell that fucking chernobog's blood on Geralt's sword despite it being cleaned and seated comfortably in his travel case. Not to mention the scent of Roach on your hands from where you pet her one last time.

You still feel bad about that. She was in the way and....next thing you knew she was on the ground with three deep claw marks in her side. It wasn't a pretty sight, and you'd rather block that from your memories forever.

"Y/N." Says Ciri, trying to gain your attention, "You have a little...a little blood." She points a finger towards her nose.

You immediately touch the skin underneath your nostrils, crusted blood is felt, "oh, I hadn't even realized. Thank you." She gives a mutual nod as you lick your finger to rub off the dry blood so you don't look like a mad woman of the woods.

The last thing you need are some random people to try and pick a fight with you out of brave fear or downright stupidity. People on this Continent do the oddest things when they feel threatened.

"I'm sorry." Begins Ciri as the three of you walk up a small hill, "About Roach. About all of this.."

"Don't be. I'm proud of you, Ciri." Replies Geralt, "What you did back there was courageous."

"I'm proud too my little lioness. Standing on a rock in the open as bait for a chernobog is no easy feat. Very admirable."

She gifts you a small smile from over her shoulder as she leads the way up the hill, "I had that feeling again when the chernobog came for me. The pull. But I...I don't think it wanted to hurt me."

You stop, causing both Geralt and Ciri to stop as well, she turns to face you. Your expression grows puzzled, "It didn't want to hurt you?" You pause a moment to think on this but simply shake your head and keep trekking onward, "Well it most certainly wanted to hurt us."

They both begin walking again, Geralt to the back of the pack and Ciri in the middle, "If the monsters are coming through the monoliths, it's my fault."

Geralt purses his lips together, "It's not that simple."

You glance back at them, "Well, that's partially truthful." He sends you a look over her head as she thinks about this.

You three walk in silence for a minute until she asks, "Geralt. Y/N." You immediately turn around and stop as they both do the same, yourself and Geralt gifting your full attentions to her, "When the Knight caught me, all I could feel was fear. I was...I was so scared. But I also felt...anger. Later, there were also some men from Cintra who found me. They were going to take me to the Knight to collect a reward. But I...I wasn't scared that time. I just....I knew what could happen."

"You screamed." Says Geralt as the obvious answer.

Ciri gives a little nod as she looks out over the great valley of forests and wild fields, "I killed them."

"How many were there of these dogs?" You ask.

"Four."

You share a half impressed glance with Geralt before raising a brow at Ciri, "Only four? You've got some catching up to do. I killed my first man when I was six, granted that one was an accident as I hadn't realized my strength at the time, but the point still stands."

Geralt snorts before playfully smacking your arm with the back of his hand, you share a smile between one another before giving a wink to Ciri and turning around to continue up the hill. Just reaching the nearing top can you climb up a few rocks as they follow to your high perch.

"So, what now?" Asks Ciri as she makes her way to the rocks while you check out the beautiful view of the river valley below and the Temple of Melitele on the far hillside surrounded by a great green forest, more rolling rocky hills to its left and far backside.

Geralt finds a spot by you, "Good question. I'm hoping we'll find our answers there."

When Ciri reaches the top does she turn her sights over to the great valley and to the temple seated comfortably across the land, "Where is there?" She gives you a questioning look.

"You'll see." ——

Pushing the great doors open does your senses awaken with the lavish scents of magic, incense, candles, and flowers. You have not stepped foot into this sacred place in centuries, not since Geralt dragged you into the care of the high priestess when you were on deaths door from a tangle with an old acquaintance long ago. And what a first impression that was.

The front portion is cavernous and tall within, intricately designed pillars hold to either side with tiny palm trees in brass pots right in front of the pillars. Candles held high and low on metal tables stand by a couple pillars as you three pass by. Many people dressed in beautiful orange and yellow robes move about their business across the opened space.

You feel oddly at home here, at peace even in such a calming and warm toned place such as this. You lock eyes with a young girl with books in her hands who almost drops them when she sees your scarlet eyes. You give her a wink and with that does she gift a quick bow before scurrying off. Clearly they don't get a lot of visitors like yourself around these parts often enough, probably for the best.

You keep walking slowly towards the tall statue at the far end and a golden case of incense that swings left to right from the ceiling like a grandfather clock a couple feet in front of it. The scent wafting into your nostrils as the curious princess leads the way down the long candlelit walkway to the far end where a great extravagant glass window sits behind the tall statue of a woman with a crown upon her head.

The great goddess in stone.

"Melitele." Reveals Ciri as she stops in the center of the long path away from the six armed statue, "Goddess of fertility and harvest."

Geralt nods, "I'm impressed."

You snicker to yourself as she looks to him with a little smirk, "I do, in fact, read." She looks back at the statue of Melitele, "The graduates of the temple school are known to become midwives, historians, healers..."

"And Witchers." Adds Geralt as she looks to him curiously, "Vesemir sent me here when I was about your age. It's where Witchers learn to do signs. Yes. I, too, was once a child." He muses as she grins.

You take a step towards the statue, "Hard to believe isn't it?" Ciri snickers lightly as the two of them follow you closer to the shrine of Melitele.

A dark eyed woman comes up to you and bows, "Blessings." She closes her palms and nods towards your dagger positioned at your hip, with a little huff do you semi-reluctantly take it out before gently placing it in her hand. She smiles softly in a genuinely friendly manner before turning and walking off with your elven dagger.

"Blessings. Good morrow." Says another woman in soft oranges and reds as she opens her palms to Geralt. He nods in respect before giving her his traveling case of swords without hesitation, then she's off to another room in the same direction as the first kind eyed woman.

"Where is she taking those?" Wonders Ciri as she watches the woman leave, a bit unsettled by this. You two never give up your weapons so easily like that.

"Don't worry. We're safe." Explains Geralt, "There's no fighting here. No politics. The temple is known for its neutrality."

"The temple is what you make of it." Says a familiar voice you haven't heard since a certain fateful evening a long time ago, "But, yes, some find it more giving then others." Says the woman in rose red as she approaches, dark hair cut almost to the scalp and two midnight eyes of warm chocolate that fall onto Geralt, "I have missed you."

She touches her palms to his like a mother meeting her child after a long time apart, he smiles fondly down at her, "I have missed you too, Nenneke." Speaks Geralt as the corners of her eyes crinkle with joy. She has truly missed Geralt, one of the kind few who do so in this world.

Nenneke slowly parts from him before taking a step to you, hands reaching out for yours that you gladly give her to take, "My dear princess. It is good to see your beautiful face once more, and with less blood on it this time. Good health is a welcomed and pleasing sight." She muses.

Letting out a breathy laugh do you shrug, "Not my intention to meet you in that way the first time."

"Nonsense." She smiles brightly at you before turning her gaze to Ciri, "Now, who are you?" Asks Nenneke, parting from your grasp to greet Ciri better.

"I'm-I'm Ciri." She says quietly when you give her a nudge, she swallows, "I'm Cirilla of Cintra."

Nenneke's gentle smile grows as she looks between the two of you, "Two princess' to cross my path at once, how fortunate this day moves in the most unexpected of ways. But I must ask, why, dear Ciri are you here?"

"She's here to help understand herself a little better." You inquire, "There's much she could learn from here...and from you. More then with us."

Nenneke raises an intrigued brow, "Fascinating. If this is so, come with me then my dear Ciri, we must talk and reflect on things. Come, my room is just over here to the right of the shrine." Nenneke leads Ciri into the room just as she stated moments ago. Shutting the wooden door right after they enter, leaving yourself and Geralt alone.

"You're listening aren't you?"

Blinking do you turn around to face him while crossing your arms over your chest, "Might have been."

"She's not going to harm her."

"I know that."

Geralt gives you a telling look, "Then why are you worrying?"

Your brows furrow at this, "I'm not-I'm not worrying."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"How so then? Oh great Witcher who knows all." You tease playfully.

Geralt chuckles as he leans against the closest pillar, "I see it in how you watch her, it's something I admire. You look like a mother."

You scoff and roll your eyes at this, "I'm not a mother."

"And the snow is just cold."

You laugh while taking a step over to him, "Oh is it now? I wouldn't know, but I do know that you're becoming uncharacteristically like a father if I've ever seen one."

"I'm not..."

"Her father?" You interrupt before smiling and nudging your elbow into his chest, "I think we're becoming more then what we had anticipated on my love. Whether we like it or not...but I must say, I don't hate it."

"Neither do I."

Suddenly the door opens and out comes a nervous young teenage boy holding a book, he gives you a small smile before walking past yourself and the statue with Ciri following right behind him.

"Help me." Whispers Ciri as she gives you a knowing look as the teenage boy leads her to the library.

You watch as she saunters off just as Nenneke walks out of the room, she gives you two a curious eye while walking casually between and around the pillar Geralt leans against. He locks eyes with her, "Now that you've had a chance to speak with her, what do you think?" She starts walking down the center pathway as you two follow from both sides.

"I don't see any side upon which you are not entirely fucked." Whispers Nenneke, "She's a princess. And unlike Y/N, kingdoms will want her for her status, no offense my dear but you understand what I mean." She waves off as you snicker to yourself, Nenneke continues, "Nilfgaard already does. You know how many have been killed in pursuit of her?"

"Thousands, yes, we know."

"And if she has Elder blood, she's a fucking tinderbox."

"By all means, go on." You quip, what riveting news this is.

"You two said she recited Ithlinne's Prophecy during one of her episodes."

"Yes, but I won't let what may or may not be folklore dictate my path." States Geralt.

"Could have been. We're not sure for certain." You add, that was weird when she mumbled part of it before passing out, she did smell of enchanted then as well.

"What does she know of the Wild Hunt?"

"She believes what most people believe. What are you driving at. Nenneke?" Asks Geralt as Nenneke stops him in the middle of the temples center with a hand to his left arm.

"She's a Child of Destiny. There are forces at play larger than we know. You.." She then glances from Geralt to you who's watching them, "...and you are part of her, she a part of you both. But it's not enough."

Geralt's eyes divert from her dark ones, "I know." He sighs as you take a step to press a comforting hand to his left shoulder as you look to Nenneke.

"What can we do?" You ask softly.

"I taught him. In all things...balance. Find what is missing in the girl. Then, maybe, you both stand a chance of helping her. Hmm?" Geralt gives a small nod as she nods back before turning around and walking away to give you two time to think about all of this. You watch as she disappears behind a pillar and out of sight before focusing on Geralt.

"Well that shit was cryptic."

Geralt snorts at your blunt sarcasm, "You could say that."

"I just did and that makes me feel a plethora worse about taking care of our little highly dangerous and valuable princess." You add with a sigh, "Why couldn't she have said everything was going to be sweet songs and rainbows ahead? Is that too much to ask?"

"You know things are never that easy."

"No fucking shit I know that." You mutter, pursing your lips together in distain as you pause for a short moment, "So she's a fucked up magical princess, so what if people want to kill her or wed her? She's with us now, fuck all of them Geralt, fuck'em. We can handle this, we can handle her, we're going to be fine and get her to her twentieth birthday together......and beyond that."

"I admire your optimism." Muses Geralt as you shake your head at him.

"I'm being serious you know."

"I know. So am I."

You uncross your arms, "oh. Well, in that case. Enough talk about all of this shit, it's stressing me out and I'm in the Temple of Melitele where I shouldn't have to feel stressed. Also I'm kind of hungry."

Geralt snorts before resting a hand on your shoulder, "Come on. They have a room for us, probably something to eat in there as well. Maybe we can rest for a little while."

"Yeah, alright."

——

Setting down your glass of red wine onto the bedside marble table does Geralt trail a finger gently across your naked back. You turn, smiling a fangy grin as you sit up while covering your bare breasts with the thin white bedsheet as soft oranges and reds fall onto his handsome face from the beautifully sun colored stained glass window in your room.

"Now this is better then Kaer Morhen." You muse, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.

He makes a face, "Better?"

"Yes I said better. You heard me the first time. And I speak only the truth of it too, I mean come on my love." You throw an arm to show off the room, "Look at this place. It's so peaceful here, we're relatively safe for once in our goddamn lives and Ciri is learning with the best we can find. A bit better then a dreary old fortress in the snowy mountains I'd say."

"Perhaps you're right."

You shove his muscular shoulder, "I am." He tries to hold back a smile but is forsaken by your stunning vessel when you freely and shamelessly drop the white bedsheet as you climb atop of him. Settling your naked womanhood upon his bare torso.

Geralt sighs sweetly as he lets his head relax into the softness of the pillow while his hands rest to either side of your hips. You press a hand to his right peck, "Now what is swimming about in my Witchers head? You thinking of something?"

He closes his eyes, "Your distractions. Very clever indeed...and very needed."

You grin at this, "I thought as much. All this monster killing and walking behind you for the most part gives me ideas."

"I can only imagine what kind."

You rub against him slowly, "The best kind...sort of pure....mostly dirty." He groans as you rub your wet womanhood against him in a meticulously rhythmic pattern, "Feel pleasant my love?"

His hands squeeze your hips, "Mhmm hmm."

"That's what I like to hear. When you can't say anything at all." You then lift yourself off of him to move down his body, hovering over his erect manhood that shows large and glistening in the colored sunlight of the glass. You bite your lower lip, one hand reaching down to gather his cock in your hand as you guide it to your wanting entrance.

Geralt's breaths steady as he anticipates the pleasure awaiting him soon enough. You gradually lower yourself down, his cock drips precum from the heavy love making session minutes before you took a break to drink your wine. His tip touches your mounds, it almost tickles as your excited nerve endings pulse and jump at the sensation. You're still so sensitive but you're far past caring about that at this point.

His cock fills you up as you let him push into you with his hips to gain full contact, you moan when he does this. Geralt smiles proudly, you take quick notice of his smug grin and retaliate by starting to ride him, slowly, lazily, deliberately rolling your hips which pulls a groan from his sweet lips that sparks your already highly confident mood.

You know this can't last for much longer as you're already burning with built up pleasure from before. But you want to hold this moment for as long as you can try, these days you don't have this much intimate time with him as you'd like. But when it counts, you're both always ready to steal as much time as you can in any given opportunistic moment. Like now.

Your hips roll against him deliciously as your pleasure grows steadily higher and higher, Geralt writhes underneath you the deeper you let him into you. Your legs part fully, he feels so thick and good it's like he was meant to fill you up to the brim. The way he stretches your walls so easily, it should hurt with how deep he pushes into you but you feel not an ounce of pain.

As your clit rubs against his naked skin does the pleasure electrify and spark, you moan, walls tightening around his cock and with that does he thrust up into you like a man who hasn't fucked for centuries. You gasp, falling forward, hands catching you on the bed as Geralt holds tightly to your hips for stability as he thrusts his strong hips up into you.

The poor bed shakes and shudders as Geralt fucks you deep and good from underneath you. He grunts hotly, pumping into you over and over again as he holds you forcefully upon him to keep you from losing balance. By now you're an absolute moaning mess as Geralt relentlessly thrusts his hips into you again and again without mercy. You're absolutely loving it.

Finally with a couple last deep pumps does he spill messily into your vessel for the second time today, his thrusts settle down and slow as he rides out his high. You take him like a rightfully brave princess though your legs are shaking, whole body practically vibrating with adrenaline and ecstasy as he fucks you till he's done. When Geralt stops is he breathing heavily, chest rising and falling as yours does the same.

Pushing your hair out of your face do you sit up to see him better, "Well don't you just love making messes." You quip, clearly aware of the potent scent and palpable sensation of his seed dripping out of you.

"This mess is the best kind."

You chuckle, "Well I guess it's only appropriate. Considering we're in the Temple of Melitele, Goddess of fertility and harvest. Though your seed will do little for me, your cock however has done a wondrous job."

"I'm glad you are well satisfied, my love."

"Oh I am. I am very much so."

Geralt chuckles as you close your eyes before leaning your head back, "You know you're still on me." He points out.

"Yes, yes I know. I'm just-I'm just enjoying the feeling of you inside me. And the sun on my face....feels rather lovely."

He snorts in amusement but let's you have a moment to yourself as he rests on the pillow, after a minute do you stir and get off of him before laying down by his side. Geralt shifts and turns to face you, golden eyes studying your crimson ones that do the same to his.

He smiles fondly at you, "I'm glad you're here with me, Y/N." Hand reaching over to take yours with his.

"Hmm. Where else would I be?" You muse, "Can't say I prefer to brood around Kaer Morhen. Lambert and Coen would make me want to drive stakes in my ears sooner or later."

He chuckles at this, "Well then lets consider it a better circumstance that we're here with Cirilla this time instead."

You both give a little laugh until your smile falters as you gently squeeze his hand. Geralt's golden eyes land upon your troubled gaze that looks at nothing in particular, though you can't seem to keep eye contact. You let out a gentle breath when your gaze finally locks with his, "That time, when he came back for me....sorry I never warned you about him." You sigh, "Werewolves are real bastards to deal with, and very good at tracking, especially when they're fueled by rage and revenge."

Your expression turns into a swift smile paired with a small laugh that's quickly snuffed out like a burning flame. Your troublesome features returning to you as you push some hair out of your eyes, "Fuck, I almost died then."

Geralt hums, "You almost did."

None of you say a word for a long moment until you shift closer to him to kiss him deeply before pulling away and resting a hand on his cheek, you let out a small sigh, "What uh.....what would you have done if I did die?"

Geralt let's out a heavy breath that fans your cheeks, clearly not to fond of that thought, he swallows, "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

He closes his eyes as you rub a thumb over his cheek, "I would have done as you have always told me. Save a vial of your blood to use when I need to save a life other then my own."

"After that?"

Geralt's golden eyes open to meet you, gently does he bring your knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly, "I would have taken your body and placed it on the top of the hill where you would be surrounded in all the flowers I could find. I'd have put your mothers dagger in your hand, a coin in the other, then I'd kiss you for the last time. I'd probably just look at you for a long time after that, take in as much of your presence as I could to remember you by. Then I'd force myself to set the pier....and I'd watch you turn to dust."

You fall speechless for a moment before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. Pulling away does a small smile grace your lips, "To know you would honor me like that. I....Geralt, I am blessed by whoever is out there to have your heart. And I mean that too, all jokes aside."

"I was hoping you'd say something like that." He mutters, mirroring your soft lipped grin while giving your hand a squeeze, "And still, I am glad to have you with me."

"I know." You move a piece of hair out of his face, "I am glad as well....you, you mean the world to me Geralt and I mean that, always. And if someone ever dare try and take you from me, I'll rip their fucking throat out."

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, "Oh Y/N, my lovely gentle flower."

"Only for you, love. Only for you."

He presses a kiss to your lips then your cheek, "You think she's alright?"

"Ciri?"

"Yeah."

You shrug, "I'd say so. The place isn't on fire yet and no one is screaming about her mysteriously losing consciousness.....or reciting anything prophetic. I'd say she's probably fine for the time being. So stop your worrying."

"Worrying?"

You give him a look, "Don't start this with me again you old wolf." ——

After a little while of laying lazily around with Geralt talking about less serious things and making him laugh more then he has in the past week. Had you decided it best to clean yourself up and put your clothes on considering it's still sunlight hours, no matter if the evening is on the horizon. Though if it was dark you'd never have gotten this chance since Ciri's bed is across the room from yours and Geralt's.

And unlike when Jaskier was traveling with you two, Ciri really doesn't need to hear the sounds of you and Geralt going at it in the dead of night when she's trying to sleep. Jaskier of course was never given that considerate luxury, he'd have to either pick up and sleep behind a tree or cover his ears and pretend your moaning was just you drowning in a pond.

Those were the days.

Adjusting the flexible leather torso armor that covers your stomach, back, holds your breasts in place, and hangs from two shoulder straps can you feel content with how the clothing feels. You've worn this thing or a few versions of it throughout the years and never have they done you wrong.

Underneath this clothing item is your red long sleeved shirt that really brings out your crimson eyes whenever you wear it. However your pants and boots are much less colorful with their greys and blacks, same colors as the torso armor. And at last do you put on your thin leather and lace forearm gauntlets to keep your sleeves from swishing around. Not that you plan on needing to fight someone here, they just complete the look, and they feel secure.

Setting the apple that you've been munching on to the side upon a marble table where the basket of them are, do you wander over to the only mirror as you look at the table underneath it for something you could have swore you saw earlier. When spotted, your smile grows as you reach for it.

"Oh a brush, how I have missed you."

"What?" Mutters Geralt as he eats a pear while seated in a chair next to the only table in the whole room.

You turn around to wave the brush in the air, "One of these fuckers. I left mine in Kaer Morhen and truly require one as of now." He watches as you brush your beautiful mess of hair, expression rather blissful as you feel the combs fingers against your scalp.

"I think you look wonderful."

You wave him off, "Oh I know you do. I could have blood all over my face and you'd still kiss me, however, I would like to look more presentable in this place."

He takes a bite out of his pear, "Never knew you were one to care about that."

"I'm not. But I am in Nenneke's temple and I am a princess after all. Might as well represent the royal status sometimes, make my queen mother proud even if she can't see me now. It's the principle of the thing really."

"Hmm."

You set the brush down, resting a hand on your hip as you look at him, "Maybe I like to look less like a feral forest woman, and maybe I....maybe sometimes I miss wearing shimmering jewels and my royal attire and having everyone bow as I walk past them."

"Do you?" He smirks, "I'm not stopping you from wearing a silken dress."

"Oh fuck off." You shake your head at him, "It wouldn't kill you to bath more then three times a week, or even brush your hair. You smell like blood, horse, and Witcher."

"And what's Witcher smell like?" He teases.

"A potent scent." You retort, "Like when I walk into a room from being outside and Lambert has made charred liver over the fire and the whole evening hall smells like that organ. It almost makes me gag."

He bites his pear again, "We don't smell that bad....do we?"

"It's worse in the summer months. The cold dulls the scent."

"Do I smell like charred liver right now?"

You give a casual shrug, "Now you smell like pears."

Geralt snorts, "A good thing I assume."

"A better thing if you take some for the road." You flash him a smile as you take a step towards the door, "I'm going out to, well, guess I'm just going to see what happens. I like the atmosphere of this place, maybe they have some old vampiric relic I could translate for them. Who knows, I'll see you later." You take another step but pause to look at him, "Maybe take a rest?"

"A rest?" He repeats, like you just told him to put on a jesters outfit and do a little dance.

"Yes. You haven't slept in awhile. And unlike myself, you need more sleep then I. So rest or I'll....well, you'll be asleep sooner then on your own."

Geralt's lips curl into a small smile as he sets his pear onto the table, "I'll try." He says half begrudgingly.

"Good. I'll be back." You gift him a wink before walking to the door, opening it up, and slipping through just as you pull the handle to close it.

Walking into the opened hallway can you take in the fresh scents of spices, plants, and magic floating on the air. The colors of the area warm and comforting as you pass down the hallway past pillars of intricate design and a glass window here and there. Letting rainbows of light dance into the room; a few people move along through the pillars as they hurry to wherever it is they're needed.

All dressed in their titular robes of soft warm colors that could match a sunsets. You like this place immensely, so different from the dull sight of snow and grey rock that is often what you've seen as of late. And being here feels oddly safe, it's relatively secluded, away from the war and it's on neutral grounds with all around it. There should be not a reason for trouble to find its way into the temple.

You're at least hoping this to be truth.

A blue and purple glass window catches your eyes on the left wall, drawing you into the blooming flowers made of glass and color. You stop to admire the craftsmanship of the architecture around it and the piece itself. Soon the presence of a young man is felt standing on your right. His heartbeat is normal as he stands there admiring the glass, though you can tell he means to start a conversation.

You give him a side eyed glance, "You lost?" He snickers at your humored question.

"No, no, quite the opposite in fact." You turn to face him. A young man with tan skin and dark black hair that just touches his shoulders, eyes the color of obsidian with a handsome face and a good built to match. A better one if he ever held a sword.

You raise a brow at him, "You think I'm lost?"

He smiles nervously, "Well I-I saw you arrive with that Witcher and the girl." His heartbeat quickens the longer he stares, he can't pull his eyes away from yours. "So much like what I've read." He whispers to himself though you can hear him easily.

"If you have a question just ask." You inquire, "I don't bite."

He blinks, shaking his head, eyes darting from the floor to you again, "I, am, so sorry about that. I'm Rafael Vexyus, a historian for the Temple of Melitele."

You give a respectful nod, "Y/N Targovishte."

Rafael grins brightly, "I know who you are. You're from Alcatraz, you're the Vampire Queens daughter." Oh.

"So I am."

He shakes his head again, a little flustered now, "I'm sorry I don't mean to be so blunt like this. It's just I've been so fascinated by your kind since I was a boy, to meet you here so unexpectedly is something I could only ever have dreamed of." His heartbeat becomes a steady thudding as his nerves pick up. "To meet the Y/N. I almost needed a chair when I saw you walk in."

"So you know of me to an extent then?"

"I do." Rafael quickly nods, "I enjoy studying on the nature and politics of vampires, how they are, how they become, and who's in charge. The hierarchy of it all, oh yes, and their gifts. Such fascinating beings indeed."

"We are aren't we?"

"Oh yes. Very." He says excitedly, "I had read about your family linage which is incredible I must say. You're mother came to the Continent during the Convergence, your father was human...and uh, there's not a lot about him unfortunately. But you. You are the first ever recorded offspring between a vampire and a human, especially a female vampire. No other dhampir's are conceived by a female vampire but you. It's-It's seemingly impossible."

"You know quite a bit then."

"Yes. And to meet you, a hybrid, both human and vampire." He pauses a moment to find his words, "Your distinctive features hold true to the books. You're just as they're described."

You raise a brow, "Described as?"

He points to his eyes, "The color you have, it's red as an apple. This is indicative of your royal status, where you land on the hierarchy of your kind. Only the most powerful vampires have red eyes, it's scientifically proven though we still don't know the true origins of this phenomenon. And Bruxa's always have blue and then all other non-feral of your species have varying degrees of oranges and ambers."

He knows a lot to your surprise, you give him a small smile, "Seems you know your stuff."

"I know that pretty well, yes. Also you have fangs for eating human food or for the consumption of blood, your ears are just slightly pointed almost barely noticeable unless you know to look, not like an elf at all. And you are specifically a plethora stronger then the average vampire due to your mother being as powerful as she is by nature." He laughs, "You could probably kill everyone here and they'd never have seen it coming."

Well he certainly can talk.

"Right, right." You nod, only slightly put off by him, "Well uh, it was a pleasure to meet you Rafael, historian of the Temple of Melitele."

You take a step to leave when he takes a step closer, "Could I just." He presses his hands together, holding them closely to his chest, "Could you show me something, your dark gift perhaps?"

Your eyes dart from him to a plant by the wall and back to him again, "Uh.....Yeah alright." Rafael grins brightly as you take a step closer to him, resting your hands on his shoulders, praying to Melitele that Geralt does not turn a corner to witness this right now. You give his muscle a light squeeze, "Just keep still."

Rafael nods, your hands trail from his shoulders the sides of his shoulders before you get a better grip around his upper arms and slowly lift up. His eyes widen, expression excited and joyful as you effortlessly lift him to where his feet no longer touch the floor.

"My gods, how incredible. Do I even weigh anything to you?" Exclaims Rafael as his feet dangle, large smile never once faltering.

"It's like lifting up a newborn kitten."

He chuckles while you set him back down again, taking a step away as he tucks a loose hair of his behind his ear. "I will cherish this time I've had with you, princess Y/N. My books mean the world to me but to have met you and bore witness to the real power of a dhampir. No book can compare."

You take a slow step back, "Good luck with your studies." Feet still continuing to move you away from him as you make a solid attempt to leave, escape more-like.

"How long are you staying for might I ask? It would be lovely to speak with you again, I have so many questions."

You force a smile, "A few days. I'm usually pretty busy though, nice to meet you. Goodbye." You give a wave before swiveling around on your heels and quickly walking away from him as naturally and casually fast as possible. Leaving a smiling and heavily blushing Rafael in the foreground, you made the young historians week, maybe even his whole year and don't even truly know it.

Turning a corner do you skillfully avoid smacking into two young girls with arms full of thin candle sticks who pass by, chatting away to one another. You slide by them and turn to rest your back against a pillar, "Well that was fucking bizarre. Well not entirely, still weird though." You mutter to yourself, it's not everyday some random person info dumps about your race. Good for him, but you already know all of that.

Hopefully you don't cross paths with him again.

Taking a breath do you push yourself off of the wall to wander the halls some more, sneaking in the shadows as you pass from pillar to pillar. Avoiding people here and there, lingering by the bookshelves in a study area before leaving that to touch a plant in some brass pot. So smooth and brightly green it is, greatly unlike the usual naturally occurring plant life around this part of the Continent. Nothing but trees, scraggly bushes, and moss around these parts.

Your thumb caresses the silky smooth leaf, mind wandering to the whereabouts of your lost dagger and a hundred other things when suddenly the familiar scent of lilacs and gooseberries wafts into your nostrils instantaneously. Your finger halts all movements as you tense, nerves sparking as they trickle over your entire body in one quick rush. No one else smells like that.

Your head lifts up, gaze focused from the tropical plant to a woman in red robes walking past through the pillars. Your eyes land on the flames of a candle as your ears adjust, they twitch as you listen closely, deeply concentrated. Footsteps walking down a hallway, passing a few unimportant people as they stop at a door. The door handle jiggles harshly but does not relent as it is locked.

The footsteps move onward away from this door as she seeks elsewhere to go, you follow her trail easily, quietly. Pillar by pillar, stalking like a silent wolf in the dark as she walks blindly unaware, seeking something unknown to you. You take a step into the hallway a short distance behind her, her dark long hair pulled back into a braid swings gently as she walks. Dress that skids against the floor only from the back sways when she stops, pausing as she takes a breath.

Her heartbeat picks up only slightly.

She turns around to satiate her curiosity but there's no one there. Her face grows puzzled, maybe she was just hearing things? She blinks, purple irises flickering from the pillars as she feels a familiar presence near. A small relieved smile tugs at her lips when she turns around to come face to face with you, someone she had not thought to see for a long time.

"Y/N."

"Yennefer."

Her gaze studies over your face that looks back in a stoic surprise until Yennefer's lips pull to one corner as she gives you a genuine half-smile, "It is good to see you."

Your expression shifts from a conflicted sadness to a newfound joy as you blink back your astonishment, "What happened to you? I thought you died? I couldn't sense you anymore after Sodden, I couldn't feel anything. Our link, gone." You quickly ramble out all at once, so many questions racing through your head.

Yennefer glances from the ground and back to you again, "I...I don't know why that happened. I would have found you sooner if I still felt it." She whispers. After all this time after Sodden, after realizing her powers are gone, after dealing with the damn Brotherhood in Aretuza, after it all and now her quest to find the gifted child with Elder blood has brought her back to you.

Is this destiny?

Yennefer takes a slow breath before enveloping you into her arms for a tight embrace, you hug her back, so grateful to know she's truthfully alive and well. You can't almost believe this is real, she's really here with you right now, not just a story in your mind spoken from a man you barely trusted. After a short moment do the two of you pull away, though your grasp is still to one another's arms.

You can't keep the smile off of your face, "How are you alive? You were just gone after you burned half the forest and Nilfgaards army....what...what even happened after Sodden? Where did you go?"

"I ended up somewhere in the woods. Then I was taken by Fringilla and some of the Nilfgaardian soldiers who were with her, the last survivors. I had no choice but to follow them until our camp was attacked by elves." She takes a breath, "Then I was a prisoner there, under the rule of Francesca and Filivandrel."

Your brows furrow, "But why didn't you.." You gift her a sympathetic look as your hand touches her cheek, "You've lost your chaos haven't you?"

Yennefer's smile falters as she begins to frown, "I don't understand it."

"That makes sense why we couldn't sense one another, when the magic left you so did our link given by the djinn....everything, gone." Taking your hand away from her cheek do you get a hard look upon your face as you glance from the ground to her again, "I shouldn't have left Sodden, I should have stayed and tried to find you, tried to see if you survived. I'm sorry."

Yennefer shakes her head at this, "You didn't know I was alive, nobody knew. Not even Tissaia."

You hum in thought before pursing your lips together in discontempt as you look to her, "I met your old lover. That's how I even came to the riveting conclusion that you were even alive to begin with."

Yennefer's dark brows furrow, "Istredd?"

"Yeah, him. A real shocker at the time too, and he was so casual about it. Even accused me of being a terrible friend for abandoning you in Sodden. I didn't fucking know."

"Where you in Aretuza while I was with the elves?"

You scoff, "Fuck no. I was in Cintra for something at the time and there he was in his study, he's apparently there with intention to help the elves if you can believe it." You shake your head, "Nilfgaard has taken over all of Cintra, unsurprisingly of course, it just feels strange. Now they're aiding the elves so who knows where that's going to go, everything's kind of a shitfuck of a mess right now huh?"

She lets out a breathy laugh, "You could say that."

The two of you don't say a word for a second or two until you nod, "How are you doing? Honestly? After everything that's happened so far."

Yennefer shrugs, "Could be better."

"You look pretty good for 'could be better'. Less blood and dirt covered then the last time I saw you."

She smiles, "I could say the same. But how are you? Find your Witcher yet?"

"I did. He's around here somewhere actually, doing something." You shrug as you get a puzzled look upon your face, "Now why are you here? I mean this is the temple of the goddess of fertility but I'd assumed you'd abandoned that path a while ago. Could I be wrong? Oh, or are you here to learn about healing properties, to find your chaos again? No wait, you're here to become a midwife, no, a historian."

Yennefer laughs at your teasing just as the familiar footsteps of your young princess walks down the hallway of pillars on your right, "Y/N, do you know what to do with this?" Both yourself and Yennefer turn to find the voice responsible.

Ciri looks down at some round metal silvery object with a small chain attached to its top before her greenish-blue eyes land upon you and Yennefer near a couple potted plants. She stops in her tracks, "Oh, are you busy?" She whispers, stealing a glance at Yennefer, "I'll just go ask Geralt.."

"No Ciri, it's fine." You nudge Yennefer's shoulder with your elbow, "This is my dear friend."

"Dear friend?" Teases Yennefer, she's surprised you didn't call her something derogatory first even if it was in a playful manner.

You let out a breathy laugh, "This is Yennefer...who's actually alive. Little did I know."

Ciri's intrigued gaze lingers on the woman next to you, "You're Yennefer."

The lavender eyed mage smiles softly, "And you must be her..." Yennefer turns her head to look at you, "...Child Surprise." She whispers, her tone almost sounding taken aback though she returns her gaze to Ciri, gifting her a convincing grin as she looks over the girl who she's been tasked with bringing to Cintra in order to reclaim her chaos again. Though you have not a clue about this valuable and troubling information.

You're just glad to have Yennefer back in the flesh.

You look between the girls, "Well let's have a seat why don't we, catch up a bit, tell some stories hmm?" ——

Seated on a plush silken couch opposite of the two of them surrounded by pillars and metal trays of flickering candles spread about. Do you watch as both Ciri and Yennefer make themselves comfortable in their own respective spots around the circular table in the center. A table covered with snacks of all kinds laying in trays, a silver tray in the center with six thick candles all glowing bright.

"Y/N." Begins Ciri who's leaned against a pillar, "Where's Geralt?"

You rest an arm casually against the back of the couch as you draw your attention to her, "Resting." Ciri nods as you send Yennefer a knowing wink which causes her to snicker as she pours a cup of tea for herself.

"Resting is he? Not very much like the Witcher I once knew."

"He gets grumpy when he doesn't catch enough sleep." You shrug, "Don't we all?"

"We do." She nods, "Except for you of course. Never one to sleep as often as the rest of the world, probably why you swore to me once that you saw a unicorn on your way back to Aretuza that one time."

"I did!" You playfully protest.

She tilts her head questioningly at you, "Unicorns don't live in that region of the Continent. It was probably a white horse or something."

"No, no, no, I definitely remember seeing with my own two eyes a damn unicorn. I saw it's horn and everything. I swear it." The two of you break out into laughter as Ciri looks skeptically between the two of you, not sure who to believe.

"You two really expect me to believe that unicorns exist?" Adds Ciri, unsure if you're both just pulling her leg.

"Of course they do." Says Yennefer matter-of-factly, "I used to own a stuffed one. Until it broke. Under mysterious circumstances." She sets the tall teapot onto the tray, giving you a humored look as you roll your eyes. That may have been your fault, no, it definitely was.

"Well, I'd love to see one some day." Adds Ciri as Yennefer takes a drink from her clear glass of deep red tea.

"You'd be in rare company." You begin as she looks to you, "They only approach those who are pure of heart. Which reminds me, how did you get your hands on one again?"

Yennefer makes a face, "My lady. I'm a beacon of purity." The two of you share a grin before snickering like two young girls with a hushed secret only you both know about. This feels like every time you would visit her in her room or on the balcony when she was alone in either Aretuza or Aedirn. The two of you would share stories and make each other laugh so easily, you miss those days.

"How..." Ciri pauses a moment as you both give her your attention, she sets her gaze to Yennefer, "...did you survive in Sodden?"

Yennefer's thoughtful gaze lingers upon the candle on the table, "I almost didn't. I'm one of the lucky ones, as is Y/N." She looks at Ciri, "Depending on your definition of luck."

Ciri thinks about this a second before turning her focus to you, "Well, Y/N says you're the most powerful mage she's ever known."

Yennefer's smile grows as she raises her brows to you, "Well, that's nice of her." You gift her a shrug as she continues, "You're staying here to heal? Have you been injured or something?"

"Of course not." You muse, "Monsters ceased biting and clawing ten years ago and I heal swift. But again I ask, what about you? A real answer this time. Because I crossed paths with another of your, uh, dear friends. He told me a little of the events in Aretuza. Is that why you're here? Hiding from the Brotherhood?"

She takes a sip from her glass, nodding, she swallows and sets the glass back onto the table, "Yes. It's been a difficult few months. But things finally seem to be turning a corner." She replies with a half-convincing smile that could be fully believed by the untrained eye, you want to believe it, but her aurora doesn't completely match up with her face.

This is strange but you let it go. She's Yennefer, her whole life is filled with her own secrets and agenda even you don't always know about, no matter how much she trusts you. However, in the end can you always figure her out, no matter how much she tries to hide it away.

"I...dreamed about you once." Mutters Ciri as she sets her gaze to Yennefer, "Before I even knew you existed."

"Dreams are powerful omens. Perhaps we were meant to find each other." Inquires Yennefer as the two of them share a mutual smile before Ciri glances between the two of you and sits up in her seat, "I'm uh...I'm going to go to bed." She stands, metal ball with the chain still in her hands, "Maybe I can dream about how to work this thing."

"This place is a maze. I'll walk you." States Yennefer as she moves to stand.

Ciri shakes her head, "No, it's—it's all right. I can, uh..find my way." She gives a purse lipped grin before nodding to you and turning around to practically bounce up the short three steps to the next floor. You watch as she goes, disappearing behind a corner and out of sight in an instant.

"Shut up."

Yennefer chuckles, "I never spoke a word."

You turn your gaze to her, "I know what you're thinking and.."

"Oh and what am I thinking about?"

"My unnatural ability to care for people despite my lack of...well, liking people."

"I wasn't going to say that. But close. I just think it's nice that you're being so, dare I say, motherly."

"Alright, now we're getting ahead of ourselves." You mutter with a roll of your eyes before shaking your head, "But I have given her a bedtime if you were wondering."

Yennefer snorts, "Oh now that's rich. You? Who would have thought of the day."

"Things have been weirder."

And they were certainly about to get there.

Hello all my lovely readers just wanted to say thank you all for sticking around to follow this story! I appreciate it very very much!! More chapters to come

Taglist: @littlewhiterose @galaxypox @maan24 @lilacs-lavender @letseatnow @certainwonderlandperfection @rafecameronswhore @diegos-butt @ashleyforeverareject @seninjakitey @beck07990 @kmuir1 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @greengrassdiaries @canpillowscry @23victoria

#geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #series #the witcher #Geralt of Rivia

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asweetprologue · 4 years ago

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Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again.

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings.

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily.

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates.

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic recs #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #fic recs #fic rec #I'm certain i missed a lot of good ones I've read over the years but I didn't want to risk making this super fucking long anyways #if you didn't see your name listed it isn't bc I don't adore you and your fics it's because i'm stupid <333

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