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vannyandthejets · 5 months

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The Wolf and the Wildling

Chapter One: Daryl

༄ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Stark!OC

༄ Season: 1

༄ Warnings: some swearing, average GOT occurrences of violence & danger

༄ Word Count: 5.6k

Daryl couldn’t recall the last time his balls had been so cold.

He’d never made it a habit to think of his balls, but when they were that cold, it was difficult to keep them from the forefront of his mind. Usually the layers of pelts he covered himself with could fight the frigid winds and needle-pointed snowflakes long enough for him to make a sufficient kill, but Daryl knew the moment he stepped through the gates of Frostfang that something was off.

Hours later and he was miles from home, the premonition only growing stronger. Still he was tasked to hunt, and he refused to return home to Tormund empty-handed. Only once had he made that mistake, and he paid for it dearly by having to give ear to his fanatical friend’s bellyaching for days.

The snow assailed Daryl’s face as he took careful steps. Whatever was attempting to slow him down nearly succeeded, but the forest up ahead was so enticing, he’d have done anything in that moment to reach it. He could take cover behind a tree, find his bearings, and kill the first thing his eyes detected on four legs.

Daryl put his left arm out to shield his eyes from the blizzard, and after several more painstakingly slow strides, he was in the tree line. He hadn’t been there for more than a few seconds when a steady stream of smoke billowing behind a small hill caught his attention. His first thought:

That’s a ball-warming fire.

This time he didn’t bother watching his step, making such haste that he barely managed not to plant his face in the snow-covered knoll. Daryl took a moment to steady himself, and that’s when his eyes found the red blotches bestrewed across the top of the mound. He turned his head slowly and surveyed the woods that surrounded him, but he could not see or hear a soul in his vicinity.

When Daryl moved up the hill, his gaze fell upon a scene that sent a wave of chills down his body in spite of the already biting temperature. In stark contrast to the spattering on the snow under his feet, the bloodbath in front of him made the man’s skin crawl. The arms, legs, and torsos of five people laid in a circle, with an additional line of body parts cutting through the middle. Their heads were speared by sticks that protruded from the earth around the lacerated appendages. It was a pattern foreign to Daryl, but it was a pattern. Whoever committed this violent act left these people this way for a purpose.

Hot anger coursed through his veins when he crouched to look upon the dead faces. He did not recognize them, but most were women, so they had to be Free Folk—his people—from another clan. His mind went immediately to the crows, but it didn’t take a maester’s eye to deduce it couldn’t be their handiwork. Crows cross through these woods to hunt for Free Folk, sure, but even for them this seemed an unreasonable course of action. Even the most callous crows Daryl encountered throughout the years didn’t kill for pleasure. Whoever did this enjoyed it.

The sound of a man speaking turned his head. A horse nickered, followed by the unmistakable accent of a crow commanding his steed to quicken.

Daryl threw the hood of his fur cloak over his head and stood, turning around to face a dead girl hanging from a tree, her chest pierced by the limb she dangled from. He jerked back when he made contact with her lifeless eyes. He thought she couldn’t have been more than six years of age, and he felt a brief loathing for the man who would snuff out a life so innocent.

The crow’s voice grew closer, ripping Daryl from his mournful thoughts. His right hand landed on the sword at his hip, but he did not draw, only resting his palm there as a comfort until he knew who he was dealing with.

Daryl maneuvered quickly through the woods, ducking behind a tree ten paces away so as not to lose sight of the approaching threat. The crow arrived just as Daryl disappeared from the crow’s view.

Daryl fought a chuckle when he spotted the man, though he thought calling him a man was generous. He was a boy of no more than 20, a “summer child,” as Rick often called them. He was around Daryl’s height, but much leaner, and his eyes were so obviously devoid of joy that Daryl need not be close to spot the deficiency.

He wondered briefly what the boy did to be there now. Rarely did young men join the Night’s Watch of their own volition—another one of Lord Richard Grimes’s many lessons on the ways of Westeros. The more likely occurrence would be that the boy committed a crime, and—depending on the nature—was offered a choice between death, being banished to the Night’s Watch, the amputating of a hand, or castration. Just thinking of the latter punishment filled Daryl with gladness that he still had his own balls, however frozen they were by that point.

The boy jumped from his horse when he discovered the smoke stream. He opted to crawl his way up the hill in a display of paranoia that was entirely unique to the crows of the Night’s Watch. Even after thousands of years of performing the same useless tasks, guarding the kneelers’ lands from entities none of them found much truth in any longer, they still moved through the wintry tundras with mistrust in things as insignificant as the breeze blowing at their necks.

Daryl could tell by the way the boy’s eyes nearly flew from his skull that he was just as shocked by the sight of the bodies as he’d been. He had his confirmation that those Free Folk had not been killed by crows when the young ranger rejoined the two men he was with, and they surmised that Daryl’s people were slaughtered by their own. Typical crows, Daryl thought. They always jumped straight to the Free Folk butchering each other when they couldn’t get their own hands on them.

There were some who did kill each other, but Daryl’s clan, the Ice-river clan, weren’t among them. Fights broke out and people got hurt, but with Mance Raydar’s help, they hadn’t had any fights to the death in years. The ignorance of the crows and all the kneelers south of the Wall prevented them from understanding the Free Folk as they truly were. Daryl doubted even a man as good at bringing volatile clans together as Mance could change that.

The young crow begged the two men to turn back, but one, who sounded to Daryl like a man who once belonged to a House of some prominence, refused to hear him. They had “wildlings” to track, he told them, and commanded both men to get back on their horses. Daryl rolled his eyes at the derogatory nickname. It never got under his skin as badly as it did with other Free Folk, but he still held no favor with it.

The three crows stalked back to the unnatural arrangement of the dead, and Daryl followed after them, keeping a measured distance and taking each step heel first. After a lifetime of being surrounded by thick snows, not a sound was made where there should have been the crunching of ice.

Daryl could’ve easily ambushed the crows and killed the trio before they had time to reach for their swords, but that would only serve to cause chaos. He’d give one day before the whole lot of the Night’s Watch would be descending upon the nearest Free Folk camp with sharpened rage and whetted swords.

He couldn’t see what caused the older men to cast such displeased glances towards the young ranger, but if Daryl had to guess—especially knowing the nature of the magic that resided in those lands—the dead Free Folk were no longer on display.

Just as his mind pieced together why that might be, Daryl realized the snow squall had come to an abrupt halt.

“Winds will cease, and any waters will freeze over with an ice thick enough to support a giant.”

He suddenly recalled the ramblings of old men in his camp. Tales of creatures who were supposed to be just that—myths and legends from the First Men.

“A feeling of impending doom will wash over you so swiftly, you’ll wonder if you’re already dead.”

The moment the memory came, the quietus that invaded Daryl’s senses was all-consuming. His heart quickened, he began to sweat in the frozen wasteland, and for the first time in his life, he was concerned that he was no longer drawing breath.

Almost as if from nowhere, a man appeared from behind one of the crows. No…it was no man. Men’s eyes did not glow a severe blue. They didn’t carry swords as long as Daryl’s tent was wide.

The creature’s white hair fell across its shoulders and down its back in a wild mane. Where a man would have muscles or fat or some amalgamation of the two, the being’s arms and chest swirled with rivulets and sharp points of ice, as if whatever or whoever created this creature couldn’t decide where to soften and where to serrate.

The two crows turned to face the monster, both of them standing at least a head shorter than the frozen brute. No sooner had they met its eyes than the creature swung its sword of ice and cleanly beheaded the crow who’d been berating his comrades, and the other man fled in the opposite direction with a piercing scream.

Daryl barely had time to register the situation before he felt those unsettling blue eyes fall to him. In his peripheral he could see two more pairs in the shadows of the forest. His right hand flew to his only knife—a gift from Rick that the Lord of White Harbor forged with his own two hands—and he launched it at the first creature in the hopes he might have time to get away if one was dead.

Daryl’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the strong knife shatter into thousands of fragments the moment it touched the creature. He wanted this to be a dream so desperately. Surely there was no way the stories of men the Free Folk deemed raving lunatics were right, but he felt dense when the words of one of the storytellers reminded him of what he should have already known. “Your blades, your arrows, any weapons you raise against it will be rendered useless, for they will not even nick its frigid skin.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected in return for his bumbling attempt at killing it, but the creature only stared at Daryl. He noticed that, in spite of it now being so cold that his hair was frozen against his cheeks, not one breath had come from the creature’s mouth or nose. It hadn’t even opened its mouth.

A few more seconds went by of nothing, then all three of the creatures disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Daryl stood in the snow, letting the abrupt torrent of flakes lash at his face, and wondered how in the hell he was going to get Rick to believe him.

“I don’t have time for talkin’ Jeor. Rick—“ Daryl stopped himself, forcing the switch in his dialect that helped to keep him alive once he crossed through Castle Black. “Lord Grimes needs my assistance.”

Jeor Mormont, “the Old Bear” they called him, sat across from Daryl in the Lord Commander’s office, a worn wooden desk resting between them. Small scrolls littered the mahogany, but Daryl had no interest in these meaningless words from across Westeros. Any other time he would prop his feet on Jeor’s desk and listen to the man grumble over how to deal with the petty squabbles of his crows and when he should send out for more of them, but not this time. Daryl watched Jeor analyze him. He should have known it would be hard to hide anything from a man who had known him since he was a boy of five.

“Talk, boy. You can either confide in me why you’re so uneasy, or we can fester in this strained silence until Maester Aemon comes in with yet another insignificant inquiry from an insignificant Lord,” the Old Bear chided, pointing his writing quill at Daryl as he spoke.

Daryl contemplated what he might say. It didn’t take him long to decide that he would not be telling Lord Commander Mormont about the crows. He would get word that one of them got away soon enough. It would likely be a raven’s message telling him the boy was executed for deserting, but that was still word. Lord Commander Mormont would do his mourning privately, and in some cases he’d have Daryl hand-deliver a scroll to the dead man’s next of kin, but that was a rarity.

He eventually let out a defeated sigh. “I saw somethin’ out there tonight.” Daryl didn’t bother using his best kneeler accent to speak his piece. “I went out to hunt like always. I got to the Haunted Forest to try and get the godsdamned snow out of my face. I found five’a my own people dead, their bodies torn to bits by somethin’, but it wasn’t an animal somethin’, Jeor. Wasn’t a single bite on the…parts, like you see with a direwolf or shadowcat.”

Unlike the crows from before, Jeor had sense to leave well enough alone when it came to suggesting the Free Folk had laid waste to their own people. His biases about the Free Folk still shone through at times, but Daryl hardly paid any mind to it after a lifetime knowing the man. He cared for Jeor Mormont, and Daryl knew the Old Bear cared for him all the same. More than that, Daryl owed the man his life. If he wanted to make a few remarks about “wildlings” every now and again, he’d reluctantly allow it.

Mormont frowned and sat down the scroll he had barely been reading. “What are you getting at, Daryl?”

“I’m sayin’ there’s something out there. Not an animal, and not a man. They’re shaped like men, I guess, but they look like they’re made of ice, and their eyes blue as a winter rose.” Daryl sat forward in his chair, never breaking contact with Mormont.

The Lord Commander thought this over. Daryl could see his jaw working as he considered what to say, but he was sure he already knew. Not even the leader on the Wall truly believed in what really lied beyond its icy barriers. Or if he did, he fought every instinct he had to deny their existence just like the rest of the kneelers.

“It’s high time you made a journey south, son. The light reflecting off all that white does things to your vision after so long. You’re starting to see things. It happens to every man at some point.” Mormont nodded curtly, as if in approval of his own assessment. “Most of the men are on watch or in their beds. You’d best head on now while you can slip away quickly. Benjen Stark will be back soon, and he is not as easy to fool as the others.”

Daryl didn’t hide his disappointment. “You really don’t believe me.” He didn’t wait for the Lord Commander to speak, instead rising to his feet and throwing on a black cloak to cover the watchman’s uniform Mormont lent him so many years before. The Old Bear stood as well, though his age required him to move a bit slower than he used to. “I believe you believe you saw something, but that doesn’t make it real. These hunting trips you go on take days, always in isolation. The mind plays tricks on us when we’ve spent too long in solitude. You know that as well as I,” Mormont reasoned, taking Daryl by the shoulders. “Your brother—“ Daryl jerked himself away from the old man. “I won’t hear it, Jeor.”

The Old Bear took a step back and glowered at the man before him. “I don’t mean to upset you, but I would not lie to you. If it were a thousand years ago I’d be rounding up the men and forming a team to go out and see it with my own eyes, but the things that used to dwell beyond the Wall are no more, son. You can hardly find a snow bear these days, let alone…anything else.” And yet as he spoke the words, his eyes looked everywhere but back at Daryl’s.

Daryl made a promise to himself then that he would never tell Mormont any more of what he saw on his side of the Wall. What was the point when he knew damn well how it would be received? Crows, kneelers, even Free Folk all thought the old magic was gone from the world, Daryl having been one of those non-believers before that moment. Now he wasn’t sure what he believed in.

He picked up his sword from the desk and plunged it into his scabbard. “I’ll have Lord Grimes write you if he has any men for the Wall,” Daryl seethed in his best kneeler voice once again, having no intention of sitting here being doubted any longer. “If there’s nothing else, I will see you on my return.” He waited a beat for Mormont to say anything, but the Lord Commander only furrowed his brows and sighed. With that, Daryl opened the door leading to the outside common area and left the office.

The cold was intense, but felt like a warm summer’s day compared to his time spent at Frostfang. At least in Westerosi winter he could count on keeping his balls.

He tightened the straps on his cloak and skipped a stair step for every one he took until his feet hit the ground. He kept his head down, being sure the strands of his hair hid his face from any onlooking crows. All they would see is a fellow watchman sent by their Lord Commander on a mission south, but there were so few men on the Wall by then that they would know he wasn’t one of them the moment they glimpsed his face.

The young boy standing guard at the gate opened it for Daryl without a question. Like always, his horse waited for him to the right, the reins tied to the high wooden posts that made the walls of Castle Black. The horse nickered at him as soon as he spotted him, and Daryl smirked in return, giving the steed a pat on his strong neck. “Missed you, too, Nerio.”

He found the usual provisions upon checking his saddle bag: bread, strips of dried boar, a flagon of wine, and a whetstone. He silently thanked the Old Bear for his continued generosity as he untied the reins from the wall and mounted Nerio with ease. The black stallion turned and started down the Kingsroad with sure steps. They’d been making this journey together for five years, so he was almost more surefooted than Daryl himself.

He clicked his tongue as a signal for Nerio to hasten, and it was no surprise to Daryl when he did so without a hitch. “Time to get out of this cold, boy, or else we’re both losin’ our balls.”

Days later, Daryl and Nerio arrived at the town of White Harbor, being greeted by nearly every townsperson with a warmth he never experienced back home, even if he brought an entire snow bear as his spoil from a hunt. Free Folk weren’t the cheerful type. It was something Rick had to work with him on for years when the two became friends. In truth, they were still working on it.

“Woah, boy.” Daryl tugged slightly on the reins, causing Nerio to stop in his tracks at the city stables. A young boy of no more than 15 approached, holding his hand out to take the reins. Daryl dismounted and passed them over. “His name is Nerio. See to it that he gets food, water, and new shoes and you’ll be paid well.” The boy bowed his head. “Yes, m’lord.”

Daryl opened his mouth to correct him, but the boy was already leading Nerio away. He sighed, still not sure why so many thought him a lord. He had the look of the Free Folk, or at least he thought so.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or has Ser Daryl Dixon returned to us at last?” The familiar voice of a friend called from behind him. Daryl turned to the smiling face of Lady Michonne Grimes, in her sixth month with child, coming his way. Her son and daughter, the young Lord Carl and his sister Lady Judith, trailed after her with even wider grins. “Daryl!” Judith beamed, running and jumping into Daryl’s arms. He laughed and hugged the girl to his chest. “Princess Judith, I have missed you greatly.”

Judith giggled as he put her back on her feet. “I missed you, too, good Ser.” She picked her green dress from the ground, curtseyed, and lowered her head in an attempt to hide her smirk. Daryl eyed Lady Michonne. “Ser?”

The corner of both Carl and Lady Michonne’s mouths went up. “Have you lost your sense of humor since we saw you last?”

Lady Michonne wrapped Daryl in a tight embrace. He smiled warmly when she released him. “It’s good to see you, Michonne.” He placed a hand on Carl’s head, slightly ruffling the boy’s hair. “Young lordling. Watching over of the people of White Harbor keenly, I’m sure?” Carl nodded gallantly, straightening his back so the sigil of House Grimes—a snow leopard with a sword in its mouth—could be seen on the brooch that held his cloak together across his chest.

Daryl saw the Lord of White Harbor coming in his peripheral and straightened himself as well, but only for the show of it. Rick taught him well in the ways of behaving like a proper Westerosi, namely one in the service of the second most powerful man in the North. Rick didn’t waste time with formalities, holding out his arm to his dear friend.

Daryl gladly took it, the two men’s hands landing near each other’s elbows in the way of a true Northman greeting. “My brother, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Rick crooned. “Months of no word. I thought for sure you’d been mauled by a snow leopard or eaten whole by one of your massive bears.”

Daryl only rolled his eyes at the Lord’s jokes. Rick motioned for him to follow, placing a hand on the small of his wife’s back. “Come, Daryl. You’ve arrived just in time to break fast with us.” Carl and Judith dutifully fell in line beside their parents with Daryl bringing up the rear.

As soon as they were in the walls of the private dining hall, Daryl pulled Rick aside. “Rick, we have to talk. It’s urgent.” The look on his face must have been serious enough, because Rick dipped his head firmly and looked to his nearest cupbearer. “Tell Lady Michonne I’ll only be a moment. Daryl and I must have words first.” The boy gave one curt nod and went to deliver his lord’s message.

Rick led Daryl into his office and closed the door. “You don’t come to me with urgent business often. What’s troubling you, Daryl?”

Once again Daryl gave his witness account from beyond the Wall, only this time he did mention the slaughtered crows. As his most trusted confidant this side of Castle Black, Daryl knew Rick wouldn’t breathe a word of the story to anyone.

He watched Rick’s expressions as he recounted the jarring sight. There was surprise there, but not nearly as much as he had expected. Then again, there wasn’t much that could surprise Lord Richard Grimes. The man fought in Robert’s Rebellion. He was there when King Aerys butchered good men and paid the ultimate price for it. It wasn’t the same as watching blue-eyed demons behead anyone, to be sure, but Daryl knew from the stories that it was a shock all the same.

When he finished, he waited for Rick to say anything, but he only stood there, his brows knitted together in deep contemplation. Daryl almost started in on him about how exhausted he was becoming with people not finding truth in his words when Rick finally spoke. “The Others.”

Daryl must have made a face, because Rick elaborated without needing to be asked. “They’re called the Others. Some even refer to them as White Walkers. No one knows where they came from, but it is believed they were here long before the First Men. They were supposed to be dead, but it seems as though they’ve been hiding for thousands of years. If you’ve seen them, then those damned words of House Stark have become more a prophecy than ever before.”

“Words of House Stark?” Daryl probed. He vaguely remembered Rick’s teachings of the words of each Great and Noble house, but they all ran together before long. He only remembered House Grimes’s words because his visits were so frequent: We’re the ones who live.

One side of Rick’s mouth turned up. “Winter is coming. The most ominous words of all the houses and yet the most accurate. One way or another, winter always comes. It seems as though you’ve discovered it’s finally on its way after the longest summer in my lifetime.”

Daryl frowned, recalling the words of the elder Free Folk. “My people say they’re impossible to kill.” Rick nodded grimly. “Aye, they would be right. Maester Eugene has poured over every scrap of information he can get his hands on, with the length of his chain as evidence, and he’s not found much on White Walkers. If the records exist, the Citadel has hidden them away.”

“What the hell do we do then?” Daryl hoped his brother would have some idea of how to prepare themselves, surely with all the knowledge he possessed from having a maester who’d read every book he could get his hands on. He could tell from the way Rick’s eyes fell that he was wrong. “Winter is coming. All we can do is hope we survive it.”

Daryl was on the road once again, this time donning the armor of House Grimes, and carrying a new dagger from Rick’s personal collection to replace the one he lost. The blade was easily recognizable as Valyrian steel, with its unpredictable swirl patterns as a sign that it was forged from dragon fire. The hilt was black as night. On one side it bore the ancient scrawl of a language none had been able to decipher, not even Maester Eugene, and the other side contained two jewels, one a misty grey, the other a blue as deep as the Narrow Sea. Rick knew its value, but gifted it to Daryl nonetheless. “I have a Valyrian steel sword, Daryl,” Rick had assured him. “You won’t be harming my lineage by accepting what I offer you. Besides, every good fighter needs a bit of Valyrian steel.”

Nerio moved quicker than he had that morning thanks to the stable boy’s diligence in taking care of his horse. Daryl made a mental note to tell Rick of the boy’s skill the next time he visited the Harbor. Rick was a good lord. He would likely reward the boy and his family with enough to keep them comfortable. The thought made Daryl smile as he and Nerio traveled back up the Kingsroad.

He wondered idly when the raven announcing him to Winterfell had arrived and what Lord Stark would be like. Rick always said he was a good man, one of the best in the Seven Kingdoms. All men have their flaws, though, and the Warden of the North was no exception. Rick spoke of Eddard Stark’s blatant trust in others, predicting that it would one day bite him in the ass if he wasn’t careful. Daryl might have reason to doubt that if it hadn’t been Rick telling him. Lord Richard Grimes’s ability to read people confounded him. The man was never wrong.

It was afternoon by the time Nerio trodded toward the gates of Winterfell. Daryl had ridden him hard to get there fast. He wasn’t sure what it was about the castle and the Starks within it, but something drew him there, and he was itching to find out what it was.

The watch blew his horn above the gate to signal Daryl’s arrival. Seconds later, the gates slowly opened, and Daryl snapped the reins. Nerio’s hooves beat against the dirt as he carried his rider into the castle. Daryl was not sure what to expect when he finally laid eyes on the inside of the greatest house in the North, but it was not—what appeared to be—the entire population of Winterfell. They stood tall behind a group of children who could never deny they were siblings, for they were all spitting images of the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, who presented themselves beside the six young Starks.

Nerio halted before the family, letting Daryl dismount him and calmly going with the stable boy who took his reins. Lord Stark approached first with a grand smile. “Daryl Dixon of House Grimes. Lord Richard speaks highly of you. It’s good to finally put a face to the name.” They exchanged the Northman’s handshake, and Daryl returned Lord Stark’s gesture. “I could say the same for you, Lord Stark. I can hardly break bread with Lord Richard without hearing of your gallantry during King Robert’s Rebellion.” It almost pained Daryl to speak so formally, but Rick nearly beat the dialect into his head. “It will be the first sign to them that you’re not a northman. You either learn to talk like the ‘kneelers’ you despise so much, or you die fighting the hundreds of northmen who will chase you to the Wall and beyond once they discover who you really are.”

“Please, call me Ned. We’ve no need for formalities as friends of Lord Rick.” Lord Stark’s arm went out, gesturing to his family. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Lady Catelyn, daughter of Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun, and my children.” He turned, stopping in his tracks when he observed the empty spot between Lady Catelyn and a strapping young lad with curly, brunette hair and the blue eyes of a Tully.

“Forgive me, Daryl. My eldest daughter is elsewhere,” Lord Stark apologized, looking to the woman behind Lady Catelyn. “Septa Mordane, would you retrieve her?” The Septa hadn’t made two steps before Daryl caught motion in his peripheral and turned his head to it. His eyes met who he thought to be a goddess at first, but the longer he watched her walk towards him, the more he knew she must be a woman. He knew the gods weren’t real, but if ever there were anything in this world to prove him wrong, he wouldn’t have minded it to be her. Daryl thought he’d become the most devout man on this continent if the bewitching lady coming his way only said the word.

She was taller than most, standing only a few inches below himself, yet still curvaceous in the ways Daryl dreamt of when he laid his head down at night. Her hair spilled from her head in tight rivulets of copper that reached halfway down her back. Her dress was a deep green that hugged her figure, reaching just above the ground so her delicate, brown boots peeked out with each step she took. Her thick winter cloak of pelts covered her shoulders, arms, and back, shielding her from the cold airs of the North. The sigil of her house sat against her chest as a fastening of her cloak bands: the direwolf.

Just as Daryl noticed the silver pin, the largest direwolf he’d ever seen came bounding after the alluring eldest daughter of House Stark. It was a hulking wolf of chestnut brown, with eyes the color of sunlight, neither feature like any direwolf he had encountered before. He would have drawn his sword if he hadn’t watched, with his own two eyes, the woman hold her hand out and the great beast nuzzle its head against her palm.

He was so stunned by both the lady and her pet that it took him a moment to realize Lord Stark had spoken again. Daryl shook himself from his daze and cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Lord Eddard. My days on the road have been long and weary. I’m afraid my mind wandered elsewhere for a moment.”

Lord Stark chuckled lightheartedly, clapping Daryl on the back. “Forgive me, Daryl. I should be letting you rest, but here I stand presenting half the names in Winterfell like we’re a merry band.” His joke earned laughs from several of his staff, as well as all seven of his children.

The woman Daryl’s eyes fell on yet again aligned with her mother and siblings, and the direwolf planted itself beside Lady Catelyn. Lord Stark motioned to her. “My eldest daughter, Adara.” His hand moved to each of the children. “Robb, Sansa, Bran, Arya, and Rickon.” Daryl noticed Lord Stark did not introduce the young man on the end who appeared the most like his own son than any of the others, and the boy made no attempt to offer his own name, only nodding slightly when Daryl met his gaze.

Adara. He repeated her name in his mind, turning it over like he would a perfect skipping rock he found on a riverbank, or a jewel he took as payment by Rick for the many duties he performed on behalf of the Lord. Lady Adara Stark of Winterfell, he thought as he met her striking grey eyes. You’ll surely be the death of me.

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dontfeedthebabytigers · 3 years

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The dumbass energy of Rex saying that he is keeping a low profile and hiding from the Empire while still wearing his customized clone armor is indescribable. Wherever Ahsoka is in the galaxy right now, at least we know she’s holding the brain cell.

#sure he threw a cloak on but it only covered his torso #the war ended like a week ago people can spot the duty ready ass of a clone a parsec away #bad batch #the bad batch #commander rex #captain rex #star wars #ahsoka tano

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

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A Returning Heart - Alcina Dimitrescu x Male Character

Summary: The Bloodline of House Dimitrescu has been destroyed by Ethan Winters, but will it remain that way? A cloaked figure approached the castle with one thing in mind - Can love transcend death?

Quick Note: The Explosion didn't destroy the Castle or that area of the village. Also, the male will not be given a name.

"Here are your purchases, My Lord." The Duke smiled as he handed 4 horizontal boxes out to the cloaked figure before him who took them in his arms but set the 3 smaller boxes down before opening the longest box. The cloaked man opened the long box - the Duke could see a long smile on the man's face as he gazed into the contents of the box before sealing the lid on it again.

"Perfect. What can you tell me about the other lords? Do you have their remains as well?" The man asked.

"But of course - after Ethan Winters killed the lords, he sold their remains to me for a fair amount of Lei. Would you like theirs as well?" Duke asked with a smile.

"Not at this moment. Once I make sure everything is in order, I shall come back for the remaining lords. And what of Miranda & the mutamycete?" The man asked.

"No longer in existence, My Lord. Ethan Winters and his company completely destroyed them - as well as the other Lords' Domains with the limitation of Lady Dimitrescu Castle and the Central and Northern Villages." Duke said.

"I'll take care of that as well." The man said as he reached down and gathered all of the boxes in his arms and started his way up the path to the grand castle that still stood.

"This is going to be interesting," Duke said as he got his notebook to make note of this. "It's not everything someone like that comes to the village."

[At Castle Dimitrescu]

The figure pushed the metal door of the castle open with one hand while the other held the boxes to his side. He looked around the room he now stood in before cracking a smile.

'Not much has changed.' He chuckled to himself before he made his way through the castle until he reached Castle Dimitresc's Hall of the Four (The Location where the masks go.). He opened the first box and gazed upon its contents before reaching in and pulling out the crystalized remains of The Royal Dragon - Alcina Dimitrescu, herself. He smiled at the crystal remains for a while before he placed them in the center of the room before going back to the other 3 boxes and opened them - showing 3 crystals torso that was small than Lady Dimitrescu's but each one had a gem placed in their chests - the first one he picked up bore a red gem.

'Bela.' the man thought as he placed the red-gemmed torso next to Alcina's. He back to the other two and picked up the second one - which bore a yellow gem.

'Cassandra.' He thought before placing it next to the other two in the center of the hall. He rose to his feet again and gathered the last one - a green gem in the chest of its chest.

'Daniela.' He echoed in his mind before placing it with the others.

Once they were all in place - he lifted his right hand which was engraved with runes of an unknown language. He cleared his throat before he spoke in Romanian.

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." The runes on his arm began to glow a blinding white light when a circle surrounded each of the remains and consumed them in a pillar of blinding light. The man watched and waited until he saw the remains float and take new form - this made him smile widely.

[About 3 Hours Later.]

A feminine groan filled the air of the Castle Main Hall has eyes began to flutter open, revealing a gold hue. The woman allowed her eyes to readjust to see - she was on a familiar floor. She pushed herself off the ground before groaning again and placing her hand on her head.

"My head...What happened? The last thing I remembered was..." Her eyes widened as memories began flooding back in her mind.

The meeting with her family.

Her daughters bringing her that Man-Thing.

The man-thing escaping and killing her eldest.

The pain she felt of loss.

Hunting that man-thing over and over again before he killed her last two daughters.

Tracking him to the chapel but getting stabbed with the dagger.

Then...dying.

"He killed me... I know he did, but then..." She looked at her hands. "How am I alive?" Alcina wondered as she tried to find an answer. Sudden movement at her right made her eyes dart and widen - instant tears filled them.

"My head...What happened?" the young girl asked.

"BELA!" Alcina said as she scurried to her daughter and engulfed in her a hug; surprising the girl who returned the hug.

"M...Mother?" Bela asked as she looked into Alcina's golden eyes.

"I'm here, little one; Momma's here now." Alcina said as she held her daughter more.

Bela looked behind her mother and her eyes widened.

"Mother - Cassandra and Daniela!" Bela said making Alcina look behind her to see her middle child and youngest also wake up. Alcina and Bela gathered the other two in hugs and all of them hugged and cried for at least 30 minutes before rising to their feet.

"I don't get it." Daniela began. "That man-thing killed us. How are we here?" She asked.

"Dani's right - I remember dying." Bela said.

"Then I ended up dying trying to avenge Bela." Cassandra said.

"And I died the library when that man-thing got the Iron Key." Daniela finished.

"That accursed man-thing stabbed me the Dagger of Deaths Flowers and managed to defeat my dragon form. How are we all here? Did Mother Miranda bring us back to life?" Alcina asked.

"I'm afraid Miranda had nothing to do with this - she can't do anything now that she's dead." A male voice called out. The women looked at the top of the stairs leading to the foyer and saw a figure dressed in a cloak with his face covered - only having the lower part of his chin showing.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my castle?!" Alcina demanded as she called forth her dragon's claws.

Broken Truth: That's what I like to call them. The whole 'A Rat can't escape the dragon's claw' was one of my favorite lines in the game; along with 'CASSANDRA!'.

"Calm yourself, Lady Dimitrescu." the male said as he raised his hand to silence her but that only made her angrier.

"You don't tell me what to do in my own castle, you stupid man-thing!" Alcina snarled.

"Geez and here I thought you would be grateful to the one who brought you and your daughters back to life." That made all their eyes widen.

"You brought us back?" Bela asked.

"Wait - why would you do that? Where're the other lords? Where's Mother Miranda?!" Alcina demanded to know.

"As I have said before - Miranda and the other lords are dead, just as the mutamycete no longer exists. Ethan Winters killed you, your daughters, and all the lords before taking out Miranda and destroyed the mutamycete before taking back that which was his." The man said from his place at the top of the stairs.

"That's impossible... All of our hard work - undone by a stupid male?!" Alcina snarled. "That doesn't explain why you brought me and my daughters back to life." Alcina said.

"Let's say - I was bringing back that which was once mine." The man said as he slowly started his way down the stairs. "A long time ago - I took up residence in this place as a loyal servant and became something more but short-minded humans came here to destroy you and those you held dear but I refused to let that happen and to save 4..." the male stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pulled the hood off - revealing his face: short brown hair, with emerald green eyes, and a familiar scar across his face. "I threw myself on the blade to keep my loved ones safe." He smiled at the wide eyes on the daughters' faces, as well as the tears that began to build in the dragon's eyes. He held his arms open in a welcoming manner. "I've returned to you, my family."

"FATHER/PAPA/DADDY!!!" The shouts of the daughters rung out as they ran into the male's arms, who held them as if they were something precious.

"It's okay, girls. I'm here now."

"I don't understand..." Alcina said as she tried to hold back her tears. "I saw you die - you threw yourself on the sword to save me from getting killed." Alcina said as she walked over to the group.

"I've been reborn since the time I lost you - while in this body, I attended a school and learned about dragons; that reminded me of you, awoke the memories of my past life and my bond to you. I was determined to return to you but I knew I had to become more so I trained myself in the arts of magic. It was a good thing too - when I learned about what happened, I had the skills to return that which I lost back to the world of the living." He explained.

Alcina looked into his eyes - those eyes darker than the tree's leaves during summer - the last time she saw them, they were as dull as sandstone but they were before her again.

He was here.

He was with her again.

And he gave back what she lost.

"MY LOVE!" Alcina fell to her knees and hugged the man and her daughters in one hug. She didn't want to let go of him; scared that this was all a dream and she was never going to see him again, that all of this would fade away and she would be back in the nothingness again.

"Shh...It's okay, Alci." He said as he began to wrap his arms around her neck to hug her for the first time in centuries. "I'm here, My Dragoness, and I shall not leave you or our daughters again." And this time - he was intending on keeping that promise.

Translation

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." - From dusk until dawn. From flesh, blood, and bone. From these fragile fragments, I command - return to which you once were and walk this earth again.

#alcina x oc #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #alcina x male #lady dimitrescu x reader

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high-supernatural · 3 years

Text

Rituals

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 2136

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault mentions/details, sex scene, they cut each other’s hands again

Summary: V finds a way to figure out what she is but it involves a sex ritual, Kai volunteers... sort of.

***since y’all like the one shots better than the series, I’m gonna write one shots for female readers under the name V for what I would’ve/will write in the series... read the series masterlist for any of this to make sense, lol***

As the weeks went on, V and Kai basically went back to normal. Kai was a little more stand-offish with pushing physical boundaries even though he knew that V didn’t know the real story.

She went back to obsessing over reading occult books to figure out why she had the abilities she was born with while they both spent their days watching movies while she recovered.

A month had passed until she found something.

Kai had been sitting on the couch as she sat at the desk, “Kai, I think I finally found something,” she said lost in thought.

“What’s the theory?”

“Well, it’s not a theory, it’s a method to see for myself, it’s like an astral projection,” she read, “it says ‘what is needed for a ritual to success is two negatively charged vibrations, energy in the form of a black flame, this symbol, and a mix of the two souls,’”

“Again, in English,” Kai sassed.

V let out a sigh, “it’s basic sex magic,” Kai’s eyes widened, and he looked away from her direction, “I spent all this energy searching and I could’ve found out through a basic sex magic ritual,” she sat back in her chair mildly disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, now all you have to do is trick somebody into some freaky sex romp,” he mumbled.

She paused before asking, “would I have to trick you?”

He looked back over at her with light eyes unsure of what to say, so she asked again with more infliction, “would I have to trick you?”

Kai stumbled on his words, “uh, I—, uh…”

V got up from the desk and went to sit by him, “awh, are you nervous,” she teasingly asked.

“No… it’s just, why me?”

“You’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only one who won’t freak out about being proposed some sex magic sacrifice,” V looked at him for a second, “so would you,” she placed her hand on his forearm.

“What would we have to do?” he asked.

“It says to lay the symbol on the ground big enough for the two people, light a few black candles, say some words, mix a bit of our blood together… then get to it and close our eyes, supposedly it’s supposed to let both of us see into our souls.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Kai questioned. He felt uneasy with the idea, knowing that she wouldn’t even be worrying about this stuff if she had known the real story of what had happened weeks before.

“Then I guess you have a new ‘date from hell’ story to tell,” she smiled.

She knew he was nervous because he never asked so many questions. She figured it was the same emotions you get on a first date, jittery, clammy hands… so they decided to head to the store and come back with supplies.

V laid down a sheet on the floor and spray painted the symbol onto it so it had some time to dry. Kai stood and watcher her silently until she noticed him, “what,” she asked smiling, “nothing,” he looked away and sat down to get everything else out of the bag.

She sat the can down on the dresser and sat by him, noticing he was avoiding looking at her when she could see him.

“Why you so nervous,” she asked, “are you a virgin or something?”

His eyes twitched open wider, not expecting her to be so blunt with the question, “I mean, I’m sure there’s another way to do this,” he started.

“So you are,” she teased, nudging his arm playfully.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything,” he looked down.

“Why would I? If it doesn’t work then we saw each other naked, not a big deal. If it does work then I might have any sort of clue about what I am, I think it’s worth it, but if you don’t want to…” Kai interrupted, “no, I do if you do… I’m just nervous I guess,” he trailed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he muttered and scooted closer to her, trailing his fingers up his arm to cup her cheek, gazing down into her eyes in a way that made her feel like she was experiencing love for the first time all over again.

“You should kiss me for doing this for you though,” he whispered.

Her breath was too taken away for her to respond with words, instead choosing to close the gap between them with a passionate kiss lasting a minute before pulling away.

“Let’s do this,” Kai said, breaking the silence.

-----

V got up and arranged the candles in their appropriate spots before lighting them.

She leaned to grab Kai’s hand and pull him slightly, “ok, now get on the symbol and say the words.”

They stood in front of each other holding hands repeating the chant before they both lowered to sit on their knees.

“Now I cut your hand and you cut mine,” V spoke softly before cutting Kai’s hand and giving him the knife to cut hers.

She interlocked their fingers, “say the words again,” they looked into each other’s eyes and spoke, feeling the energy in the room shift as the candle flames blew rapidly.

“We both have to be 100% naked, by the way,” she teased as if she left that part out before her smirk went away and she pulled him into another kiss.

Her hand slid up his shirt to feel his chest and signal for him to remove it before it trailed down to his belt to unbuckle it.

Kai rested his hand respectfully on her knee with the other on her arm that cupped his face. He avoided telling her he was a virgin earlier when she asked, thinking she’d find somebody else like he had suggested. His whole body felt on fire waiting for her to tell him what to do.

She guided his hand that was on her knee to above her shorts for him to unbutton before guiding him to lay down.

He watched attentively as she slid out of her shorts on her way to placing both legs on either side of his, straddling him.

Again, he waited for her to tell him what to do. She leaned down to kiss him for a small moment before moving her lips to his neck, guiding his hand up the side of her thigh and the other up the front of her other thigh.

V took her lips from his neck and sat up to remove her sweatshirt, exposing that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it. Now Kai truly felt on fire, as if he was experiencing love for the first time like she did when he kissed her. He didn’t wait for her to guide him before he trailed his hand up her torso, leaving the other one to squeeze that curve where the hip meets the thigh.

His eyes were glued to her breasts until his hand grazed across one and up to her neck, pulling her back down to kiss him and finding one hand in her hair as the other explored her back and thigh.

Her hand reached down his stomach and into his unbuckled pants to feel him through the fabric of his boxers as her lips moved to nibble his ear and kiss down his neck again.

Kai unintentionally squeezed the parts where his hands laid when she moved her hand underneath his boxers and took him into her hand, pumping at an extremely slow pace before he pulled his pants down so he was fully exposed.

The tenseness in his body and expression of desperation on his face grew more evident when she sat up with her hands on his chest and grinded her core onto his with the pressure of a feather. He squeezed her arms again, “relax,” she whispered, trailing her fingers from his biceps to his hands, interlocking them after pushing them to rest above his head and leaning to kiss him again.

For the first time in a long time, Kai was frozen without knowing what to do in a situation. He was letting her take control.

V slid her panties to the side and aligned them before sliding all the way down onto him, placing her hand back onto his.

“You good?” is the last thing Kai heard before she started slowly bouncing up and down onto him.

After that, neither of them was in the room their bodies were in. They awoke out of their bodies in a forest place that was comfortably and eerily dark at the same time. Kai looked at her before he realized she wasn’t next to him anymore.

He called out her name with no response before seeing a large shadow dart across the room from the corner of his eye. He followed it and was met with a large gold-trimmed mirror leaning against a tree. There was something off about the mirror. He gazed into it, trying to make out what was so different about the way he looked before a large, frightening creature popped into the mirror.

Kai jumped back and stared at it. It had a large animal skull for a head with large, gnarly teeth and huge antlers, its body was covered from the neck down in a cloak, and its hands were shaped like a human’s hands, but they were discolored with long, sharp nails.

He looked at this creature in awe before it whispered in distorted breaths, “you…the chosen pair…”

Kai spoke anxiously, “what? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” He had never encountered anything like this, especially not this size.

The creature let out another distorted whisper and grabbed him, “protect her,” it said intimidatingly.

Kai and V both woke back in their bodies, out of breath and not in the positions they started in. Kai was now on top of her, and they were moaning like it was the last time they’d ever see each other as they both orgasmed at the same time before processing what they saw on the other side.

V threw her head back, digging her nails into Kai’s hair as he buried his face in her neck and rode them both out.

Before either of them had come down, V spoke frantically, “what the fuck was that” she pulled his face to look at her, “did you see that?!” in reference to the other side.

She stood up before Kai could get off her and put her sweatshirt on to sit at the desk and open her laptop. Kai sighed and pulled his pants and boxers back up before walking over to her.

“We’ve been gone for an hour and a half…” she said.

“No way, that had to have been five minutes, tops,” he responded dumbfounded.

“Check the time… an hour and a half on the dot…” she paused to analyze his puzzled facial expressions, “Kai what did you see?”

He scratched the back of his head, “I uh… we were in this forest,” she watched him attentively, “it was pretty dark, you disappeared, then I saw this gold mirror and this creature stood in it,” she interrupted him, “what did it look like?”

She started typing to document what they had seen, “it had an animal head with horns, wearing a black cloak, long hands…it was gigantic…” she interrupted again, typing without looking at him, “did it say anything?”

“It said something about me, then it said, ‘chosen pair’, and told me ‘protect her’,” he imitated the creepy way it spoke.

V glanced up at him and said nothing before looking back at her screen to type.

Kai sat at the desk across from her, “anyways, what’d you see,” he asked.

She glanced at him before typing again, “I don’t know. It all looked like a bad acid trip. One minute I was standing next to you…” she stopped and looked at him again before closing her laptop screen so she could see his full face, “it told you chosen pair?”

Kai shook his head, and she squinted her eyes in confusion and wonder, “did you look at me before we lost each other?” Kai shook his head no.

“We had a tie to each other… like a…” she struggled to find her words, so she drew a picture instead, “like this… it was like a red chord that extended into both of our chests… and then right after I saw it, something took me through like a tour of the matrix of the universe…” she explained.

Kai looked at her like she was actually on acid now. “It told me I could control all of it, then I came back…”

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #kai parker imagine #kai parker fluff #kai parker smut #malachai parker #tvd #tvd au #tvd fanfiction #tvd series #kai parker series

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jetsam-kisa · 3 years

Text

Michiko vs Jetsam

Whew! This is done! I got carried away so I am very sorry for the length :’D

Michiko’s mod and I had some fun talking about our characters and especially the gear Michi is developing!

Unfortunately they were very busy this week, but I was more than happy to write the fight results :D

CW: emetophobia // there is a brief scene describing vomit semi-graphically

The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium as Jetsam Kisa and Michiko Watanabe entered the battle arena. Both of the students walked to their side of the arena with a sense of purpose, even if they were nervous wrecks on the inside. Once they took their proper starting positions, the two contestants smiled weakly at each other as the announcer called out their names and the people in the crowd cheered for the next fight.

‘I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out,’ Jetsam thought as he gnawed on his lips in anticipation, ‘That or throw up. Oh god I hope I don’t throw up in the middle of the match. Everyone here is watching. God, my parents are watching,’ Thick, heavy plums of smoke rolled out of his mouth the more frantic his thoughts became, until they nearly completely cloaked his figure, ‘I think I saw Best Jeanist in the stands too! He’s not going to want to associate with the kid who threw up during his first match. What am I doing here? What am I even going to do-?”

Jetsam was snapped out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts by movement in his periphery; Michiko gently waved her hands at him and gave him a broader smile, despite clearly being nervous herself (if the crease in her brow was any clue to her emotional state).

“Let’s both do our best during this fight, Kisa-kun!” Michiko called out from her side of the arena, before her gaze hardened with a resolve she often reserved for studying the most complex of quirks, “Although, I hope you know that I will not be taking it easy on you. I need to see how far I can go, and to learn about the extent of my current abilities.”

Seeing Michiko’s determination and hearing her will to succeed was like a salve to Jetsam’s shot nerves. He took a deep breath, then released the pent up smog. The smoke surrounding his body partially dissipated too. It was almost a shame how well Michiko’s words calmed him down; he would be better off easily producing the pollutants that came with high stress. Jetsam briefly wondered if her kindness was double-edged in a way; was it a strategic way to prevent him from building up his quirk before the match? He shook the thought out of his head before yelling back to her:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Miss Michi!”

He could only hope that his grin masked the nerves that were still rolling in his stomach. He knew Michiko; knew her quirk. It could only be activated by physical contact, so as long as he kept his distance he should be okay.

‘Although,’ Jetsam thought as he gazed at the chain-like device at Michiko’s hip, ‘that capture chain she’s been developing could be difficult to beat. I’ve never seen what it actually does before.’

All too quickly, the announcer began their countdown: “3...2...1...BEGIN!”

---------

As soon as the bell rang, Michiko shot forward, arm extended, with a single-minded determination to do one thing and one thing only: get to Jetsam before he could gain control of the battlefield with his quirk. If she could grab a hold onto him before his smogs and tars and other (frankly, gross) expellents became too overwhelming, then she could nullify his quirk with her own, and use her capture device to prevent him from continuing the fight.

Jetsam must have realized her plans, and had just enough time to dodge out of her range, smog spewing out of his mouth now that his adrenaline was no doubt pumping again. Not to be deterred, Michiko quickly shifted her balance and dove after him again, careful not to let him hide behind the pillars of smoke he was creating.

‘He’s not going to make this easy for me, but I have been preparing for this occasion for too long to let this game of tag keep me from winning!’ She thought to herself, resolve growing with every inch closer she got to Jetsam, ‘He can’t avoid me forever, and I have a secret weapon I’ve been dying to beta test!’

After a few more moments of chasing after Jetsam, Michiko took a gamble and let him escape to the sanctuary of smog he created across the arena. She knew she had to be quick, but some risks had to be taken to assure victory! She knew that she had the power within her to win.

He wouldn’t be able to outrun her prototype, after all!

--------

‘Phew, I think I finally managed to shake her,’ Jetsam sighed with relief, dark smog still escaping his mouth and obscuring his figure to the crowd (and hopefully Michiko as well). ‘Now I have a moment to breathe. Hah, figuratively, at least.’

He made sure to keep his eye on the clear silhouette of Michiko he could make out through his smog, never before more grateful for his mom’s sight-related quirk partially making its way to him. She seemed to be standing still, perhaps strategizing her own plan to catch him and throw him out of the arena? He hoped the smoke wasn’t making her feel too sick. He had to be quick.

‘I can probably end the battle if I cover her in tar and stop her movement. It might be unpleasant but it’d be safer than trying to beat her in hand-to-hand or some other physical contest. I haven’t been training with Tsumi for too long, after all. Yeah okay, that’s the plan!’

Just as he was about to produce the sticky tars necessary to carry out his plan, a thin silhouette darted out from Michi’s figure, slithering across the arena at a speed too quick for Jetsam to react to.

As a cold, thin figure coiled itself tightly around him, the only thought sparking across Jetsam’s brain was:

“Michiko brought a snake?”

-----

‘Bingo!’ Michiko exclaimed to herself as Jetsam’s no-doubt unconscious shout revealed not only his location, but the fact that her capture device had worked perfectly as intended.

While it still had quite a few bugs to sort out, one of the most recently added features was a heat-seeking tracker that would allow the machine to chase after targets even under adverse visible conditions.

She cocked her head towards the direction of Jetsam’s quick yell of distress; she couldn’t get complacent. The capture device was only half the battle! She had to guarantee that Jetsam couldn’t continue the fight in order to assure her victory!

She couldn’t just blindly run through the smokescreen either; who knows what kinds of traps he could have placed while she set up her capture device. No. She had to be methodical, and safely make her way to Jetsam’s location while he was encumbered.

The smog was thick, but now she had her goal within sight: grapple Jetsam and nullify his quirk, thus ending the match.

-----

Okay, so it wasn’t a snake, but it was still bad news! Jetsam’s arms were completely pinned by the robotic device wrapped around his torso. So this was the work of the capture device that Michiko had worked so hard on? Jetsam had to admit that it was effective. He couldn’t fight with his limbs restrained like this, and that shout he gave out completely alerted Michiko to his location.

‘So this is it. The fight’s over, and I spent the whole time running away and cowering in the corner. Everyone is watching. Everyone saw. Everyone will know I’m just a big failure who doesn’t deserve to be here. Oh god what if Sato-sensei kicks me out of the hero course? What if they kick me out of the school?? What if everyone laughs and ignores me and hates me OH GOD-’

As the panicked thoughts swirled in Jetsam’s mind a pit formed in his stomach. A pit that rapidly expanded into a big, black ball of anxiety and nerves. He could almost picture it in his mind’s eye: an ugly, bloated orb dripping with heat and stress and bile. The more he envisioned it the more it grew until he could almost feel it spilling out of his mouth like a slick oil spill across his lips and---oh wait.

It wasn’t in his mind’s eye.

Jetsam groaned to himself as gushing rivets of slippery, rubbery oil spewed from his mouth all down the front of his body.

“Well this is perfect!” Jetsam exclaimed to himself, although it was muffled by the sheer volume of oil that expelled out of him as he spoke. He really did throw up. God, could this fight be any more of a disaster?

First he gets captured by Michi’s device, then he literally vomits gross oil from the stress. Fantastic. He shifted uncomfortably, as the oils soaked into his jersey under the capture device and--wait a moment. Oil. Disgusting, smelly, beautifully SLIPPERY oil! That was slicking up his torso and arms even now!

Jetsam pulled his arms upwards experimentally and YES! They were sliding out, he wasn’t restrained anymore! Maybe he could hide again and strategize-

The victorious thought was cut off by a hand shooting out from the pillars of smog, reaching for his newly freed arms.

-----

“I finally found you, Kisa-kun!” Michiko called out, jumping from out of the smokescreen with a triumphant smile.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Jetsam freed from his restraints, but she simply chalked it up to a prototyping failure; she could ask him about the specifics of how he escaped once the match was over, anyways.

This time Jetsam couldn’t dodge her oncoming attack, and Michiko grappled him to the ground, pinning his arms above his head. Now was her chance to nullify his quirk! She had been practicing in hand-to-hand combat, she could still push herself to her limits and come out on top!

Michiko began to focus her energy on her quirk, as Jetsam struggled underneath her. As soon as her quirk began its nullification, she saw the startled look in his dark eyes, and winced slightly in sympathy. She had been told that her quirk was a bit unpleasant to the target; with the process feeling not unlike having your blood drawn through your whole body.

As her quirk took effect, the copious amount of smoke around them began to disappear, once again fully revealing them to the crowd of spectators around the stadium. As her own vision began to clear she was startled to find them lying at the edge of the arena; if they had tussled a bit further out they would have been out of bounds.

Jetsam followed her gaze to the boundary line, and his jaw tightened as his face flushed a dull purple. Was it anger at his predicament?

“I’m very sorry about this, Miss Michi,” he gurgled apologetically, as the last of his quirk bubbled from his mouth into a viscous oil that was spat out onto Michiko’s face.

With a shout of surprise, Michiko’s grip loosened enough for the slick oils still coating Jetsam’s arms to allow him to escape her grasp. Vision impared by the pollution covering her forehead and dripping into her eyes and nose, Michiko was unable to dodge the hefty push against her chest as Jetsam scrambled away from her touch, getting onto his feet. It was only for a moment, but it was enough for his quirk to return in full force.

“Again, words cannot express how sorry I am for doing that.” Jetsam called out to her, although his speech was hard to make out with the thick pollutants leaking from his mouth.

Michiko shot up from the floor, furiously wiping at her face to clear it of the oil. Once her vision returned, she turned to face Jetsam. The two ran at each other, trading blows and each trying to grapple the other into submission. The build-up of tar and oils worked as a double edged sword; Jetsam easily slipped from Michi’s grasp, but she also used that to her advantage to slide out of the way of his attacks.

Then, there it was: that single, gleaming moment where Michiko could see the exhaustion, see Jetsam’s attention waning as the fight dragged on for just a bit too long. Right there! He was right by the boundary line, and had miscalculated a move that left him off-balance and vulnerable.

‘Sorry Jetsam,’ Michiko thought as she built momentum for her final blow, ‘but I am grateful for this amazing fight!’

Just as her victorious punch was about to make contact with Jetsam’s awaiting back, she felt herself freeze, involuntarily. Her arm was stuck in position, unable to move. She tried shifting her feet, but to no avail. Her whole body was frozen in place, like some sort of statue!

After a brief moment of panic, Michiko quickly realized what was happening. The tar. The tar Jetsam had been producing. He had mixed it with all the other pollutants as they fought, and as she was coated throughout the battle, the tar was turning thicker and thicker, until it encased her whole body into a stiff, immovable statue.

She struggled, trying to thrash her way out of the viscous black coffin, but to no avail. She could no longer continue fighting. She had lost.

The crowd burst into cheers and jeers as they realized that the match had been settled, the announcer calling out “AND THE WINNER IS, JETSAM KISA!”

As soon as the decision was announced, Michiko felt the tar slide off her body, like showering off a thick coating of muck, until only black stains remained on her body and clothing.

Jetsam sheepishly looked over at her, hand anxiously scratching at the back of his neck.

“So… that was really, really gross. I’m so sorry. But you were incredible! You almost had me so many times!!” Jetsam babbled out, getting more and more flustered as he continued. “I understand if you’re upset, but we promised we wouldn’t hold back and-”

“That was a great match! I had such a good time, and you really tested out my limits!” Michiko interrupted, smiled brightly at him as she held out her hand for him to shake. “But I’m warning you, next time I’ll be the one to come out on top!”

Jetsam smiled softly as he took her hand and reciprocated the shake.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#this was the first time i have ever written a fight scene!!#i hope it turned out well... again sorry for the length lmaooo #michiko #jetsam #bnha oc comeback #sports event

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silvermoonflowers · 3 years

Text

Moonflower Act IV

Priestess!Reader x Demon!Bucky

Summary: Just a cute little date between you and a handsome demon

Warnings: Lots of fluff, James being a relentless flirt, and the Reader being a bit feisty

Act III

You smiled happily as you pulled out a tray of freshly baked cream puffs from the stove.

Everybody, except you, was out for the day. A High Priestess from the Moon Temple had arrived and asked Nicole to come over so she could help her out with her spiritual powers. Although you wanted to be with Nicole so you could assist her too, the High Priestess gave you a sharp reprimand about performing your duties first. Meanwhile, Sam and the others were in a meeting with the King (for knights only apparently), leaving you the only one at the residence.

Oh well.

So far, you haven’t sensed any bad omens and there weren’t reports of demon sightings. You would’ve taken a walk to see Emily, but at that moment, it began to rain heavily. Great, just great. You glumly sat in the kitchen for a while before your eye caught a jar of flour. Since you didn’t know how long it would be before your family returned, you thought you would make some pastries as a welcome home gift for them.

As you waited for the pastries to cool, your mind began to wonder back to a certain demon.

You were still a bit wary of James due to his true nature. And you only saw him a few times, with those meetings being short and somewhat cryptid, which still mystified you. You suppose it because he was a demon. He probably didn’t want to stay around without a knight or demon hunter noticing him and then trying to kill him.

And yet…

You sighed. In spite of his true nature, James was certainly beautiful and charismatic. His deep, smooth voice did wonders to you and you longed to be in his arms again. Just being with him gave you so much comfort in a world filled with grief and suffering.

I wonder if my family is alright if I let James stay at our house?

You frowned deeply. That was one of the few things that was in your mind all week now. No matter how much you wanted James to stay with you, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Because of so many past incidents, you and your family were distrustful of all demons, whether they were noble or not. But all James had ever shown you was kindness, which made you change your mind a bit. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

Now was not the time for confusing thoughts.

You swiftly turned to a cabinet, intending to get a large plate to put the cream puffs on when the temperature suddenly became cold. That was surely a sign that a demon was going to appear. But the chilling presence was more comforting than threatening, which made you know who it was. You shuddered from delight as he made himself known.

“My, my what a sweet scent,” James purred as he leaned against one of the walls.

You didn’t turn around at first. Instead you took your time to get the plate. You weren’t actually ready to face him yet.

“James, hello...you could’ve knocked, you know…” You muttered as you pushed aside stacks of small bowls and small plates.

There was a chuckle. “Hello to you too, my dear Priestess. And I would, however it’s raining. So I’d rather not get myself wet.”

“Yeah...true...well..umm...w-what the - hey!” When you turned around, your face began to burn with embarrassment almost immediately.

James had already grabbed one of the cream puffs and was casually munching on it. However, that wasn’t the only thing that made you seethe. Now that you met him again, but this time in broad daylight and without a cloak covering him, you could clearly see what he was wearing. He was wearing rather tight clothing, which made you wonder how he could move in them considering how muscular he was. Well, his shirt must’ve been that tight, since he didn’t bother to button up, exposing his well-built torso to you.

You huffed. He had to have done that on purpose.

“J-James, I don’t mind if you eat the food, but you should’ve asked first!” You hissed as you tried so hard not to look at his chest.

James merely smirked at you as he took another bite. “Sorry dear, they just look so delicious. Do you need help by the way?”

“Oh no...thanks, I’m fine…”

The audacity of him...first he entered your home, (no, you weren’t counting the first time since he was there to save Nicole) while revealing his torso to you and then he took a pastry without asking you first. Well...James was a demon, so being mischievous was not uncommon to him, but still…

“Alright, if you say so. Do you mind if I take another one then, please?” James grinned, revealing a pair of sharp teeth, a hint of his true nature. You narrowed your eyes at him. But it wasn’t so much of his demonic features scaring you. No, he would never hurt you. It was more of the fact that he was teasing you.

“Yeah...well...whatever,” You mumble as you set the plate down and began piling the rest of the now cooled cream puffs on it. “But you better not eat them all. Save some for the family, too!”

“Thanks,” He purred as he plucked another pastry from the plate. “You’re such a doll.”

At the affectionate nickname, you nearly dropped the plate in shock. You had to bend down awkwardly in order to balance the plate. Thankfully, neither the plate nor the pastries fell to the floor. But now you just realized that you made a fool of yourself in front of James. His snicker obviously confirmed that.

“Wow Priestess, you sure are clumsy~~” “Shut up!” In your frustration, you threw a cream puff at James. He caught it with ease while you scowled. You didn’t mean to throw the pastry at him. You just wanted to get rid of James’ teasing smirk off of his beautiful face.

“Another one? Aww thanks~~”

You sucked in a breath while setting the plate of pastries down a little too hard on the table. Why were you even acting irritated in the first place? You did want to see James again and your wish was indeed granted. Even if he did come into your house unexpectedly...

It was probably because James was practically shirtless that threw you off.

“James,” Your shoulders sagged a bit. ”...I’m sorry for being...mad at you just now. I really am glad to see you, you know..”

“Nah,” His voice suddenly became soft. “I think I went too far in teasing you.”

“I-it’s fine…”

There was now an awkward silence between the two of you with you clasping your hands together rather tightly and James finishing off the pastries. The rain was the only sound that filled the silence. You hoped James wasn’t too upset with you because of your fiery outburst.

“S-So, uhh...y-you want some...t-tea?” You wanted to cringe at how much you were stammering, but James didn’t seem to notice as he nodded.

While you prepared two cups of jasmine tea, you kept sneaking glances back at James who was now staring off into space. Now would probably be a great time to start an actual conversation.

“So…” You trailed off for a second before the words came into your mind. “James…you need me for something?”

He smirked. “I just want to see if you’re alright, my dear Priestess~” You blushed. “Oh well...thank you. I’m glad to see you’re alright too. So w-where do you uhh live?” It may seem like a strange question, but even demons had to hide somewhere.

“Ah, I actually live in an inn not too far from here.”

“You’re okay with living among humans?” You looked at him incredulously while handing him a cup of tea. It’s a wonder for him to be staying at a place where both mercenaries and demons hunters would often hang out.

He shrugged. “It’s better to be there than to be at my...uh...old home?”

You weren’t even going to question what James referred to as his “old home” as you already had the dreadful idea of what it was.

“However, the owners do know that I’m a demon.”

“What? How?”

James gave you a rather sheepish grin. “Let’s just say I accidentally revealed my true form to the owners when I saved them from a close encounter with a demon. But the owners don’t seem to care about that though. They just endlessly thanked me for saving them. They promised to keep it a secret and let me stay at their place for as long as I want. I kinda felt bad that I was staying there for so long. So I decided to get rid of any demon that came too close to the inn, even though the owners insisted that I don’t have to.”

“Oh, that’s nice. But what about the mercenaries?”

James scoffed as he took a sip of his tea. “You mean the ones who are so arrogant and are only doing it for attention than actually helping their fellow humans? I don’t even come near them. All they do is constantly brag about their victories and demand for more money. It’s irritating as hell.”

You let out a giggle and then quickly pursed your lips. But more giggles erupted. You had to set your teacup down so the drink wouldn’t spill on your dress. The way James looked so grumpy was such a contrast to his handsome, charismatic self. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips formed a cute pout. However, he did have a point about certain mercenaries. You had only fought alongside them at least three times and all three times nearly ended in disaster. Two of them even demanded for yours’ and Nicole’s hand in marriage, much to your family’s chagrin.

As you recovered from your giggling fit, you heard a teacup being set down. You looked up, only for your eyes to widen. James’ chest was suddenly right in front of your face. When did he get so close to you without you even noticing?

Your eyes trailed down to his abs. Oh, his abs looked nice enough to touch. And damn, those dark pants really are tight on him. But before you could look any further, a cold hand tilted your chin.

“Ah-ah, eyes up here.”

There was a twinkle of amusement in James’ blue eyes and you felt both shy and a bit of fury rising within you. Shy because of what you assume is James going to kiss you and fury because of how relentless he was in teasing you. How long was this guy going to make you blush?!

His hand slid up to your cheek and stayed there. Then his long fingers began to gently caress your skin and you had to bite your lips from letting out a breathy sigh. The sensation was cold, so cold, and yet...so nice.

“I have something for you,” James’ voice was a mere whisper now. His hand disappeared from your cheek as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and gave it to you. The box was wrapped in what seemed like expensive gift paper and it was pretty lightweight.

“W-what is it?”

James only smiled. “Open it.”

You set the box on the table and unwrapped it. A gasp left your throat when the gift was revealed. It was a beautiful ring and a very expensive one at that. The band was made out of rose gold. Resting on top of the band was a shining diamond, surrounded by crystalline petals that appeared to be in the shape of a moonflower. A moonflower ring. The same ones that you saw whenever you and Nicole visited the jewelry market. You swallowed hard before turning to James, whose smile grew.

“Oh...J-James...thank you. But...how can you afford it? This is really expensive -”

James winked at you. “I’m a demon, remember? I can summon money out of thin air.”

Yeah, but for a price… You thought bitterly as you remembered trying to save someone who was foolish enough to make a deal with a demon. But James definitely wasn’t that cruel to do something like that…

“Oh, James...thank you so much.” You closed the box and held it close to your chest. “But you didn’t have to…” You didn’t know why, but you felt bad that James bought something that cost so much.

“Oh, come now, dear Priestess,” James said in a low voice as he took a step closer to you. His hands slid over your shoulders and pulled you into his bare chest. With your cheek pressed against his cold skin, you nearly fainted. Dammit, just why was James so handsome and sultry?!

“This gift is a symbol of my love for you. So I hope you enjoy my gift. Please, cherish it forever.” At the word “love”, your heart nearly skipped a beat. You felt James press a kiss to your forehead, making you blush even more. “Thanks for the tea and pastries, doll.”

Then just like that fateful night from before, James took a few steps back, never taking his eyes off of you. But this time, you took a step forward, your free hand outstretched towards him. He smiled and brushed his fingers over your hand before he took one last step into a shadowy corner.

“I’ll see you again, my dear Priestess.” Before you could say something, he disappeared. For a while, you stared at the spot where he disappeared, with your face burning hot and the box clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, we’re home! Boy, is it raining hard!” Sam called out from the main corridor, startling you. “Oh what’s that sweet scent?”

You quickly hide the box behind a shelf before going into the corridor to greet your family.

“Welcome back, everyone!”

*~*~*

There was only darkness when the demon entered the old mansion. But he didn’t mind. The darkness felt like home to him. It’s a relief from the annoying sunlight that had peeked out from the clouds now.

“Master,” he called out. “I have returned.”

Footsteps echoed and in the sliver of sunlight, another demon appeared. He looked much more ancient compared to the one who stood before him.

“Welcome back,” his master said. He then frowned rather deeply. “However next time, use the mirror to enter through here. You don’t want to get the attention of the humans, do you?”

The demon scoffed, but then shook his head quickly when his master gave him a look of disapproval.

“So...” the demon began when his master continued to stare at him. “I’ve done it.”

His master’s normally cold expression lightened. “Oh? Good. Very good.”

The demon could see the eagerness in his master’s eyes and he couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful.

“Then your next task is to try to find a way to get as close as possible to the Priestess and her sister. But remember, you must be very, very subtle about it. The slightest mishap and it could be your downfall. Then when they truly put their trust into you, kill them both. Ran’s lineage ends with their deaths. The Kingdom of Larissa will finally be ours.”

Already tasting the glory of victory, the demon smirked and gave a rather mocking bow to his master. “As you wish.”

#demon!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x fem reader #bucky barnes x y/n #writings

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

Jaskier/Dandelion with Geralt on the path, adamant that he is not sliding down that muddy path bc his doublet is far too beautiful to ruin so no thank you very much Geralt, climbs down a fallen tree, smugly taking 5x longer and bragging/complaining all the way down until he trips over a branch he hadn't seen and falls head first into the bog beside them

I went for snowy mud to get the wintery feels because it’s December? But enjoy! ___________________________

Jaskier was fucking freezing. They were heading up to Kaer Morhen for winter and as per usual he hadn’t listened to Geralt. He was wearing the most gorgeous pale blue doublet that was embroidered with silver snowflakes. It was clearly designed to be worn at royal winter balls not trekking up the mountain towards Geralt’s home, but it was his first time and he wanted to make a good impression on Geralt’s family so he’d gone for style over practicality. He shoved his hands under his armpits in a futile attempt to keep warm. His fingers tips were now almost as blue as his clothes but he still refused to admit he was wrong.

Geralt was no help. Despite Jaskier’s chattering teeth and shivers, the witcher kept his very cosy and snug cloak to himself. Jaskier knew this was his punishment for being a stubborn arse but he looked simply stunning so really he was the winner here. Geralt could only dream of looking so divine.

Ok that was a lie. Geralt was fucking gorgeous even covered in monster guts and tattered armour.

It was truly unfair.

“Cold, Jaskier?” Geralt asked, glancing over his shoulder as he guided Roach over the rocky path by her reins.

“N-no!” Jaskier stammered and glared at the witcher.

“Hmm.”

“Oh hmm yourself, you smug bastard.”

“I’d lend you my cloak but you’re not cold,” Geralt smirked.

“I’m not cold. My outfit is perfect and you!” He pointed at Geralt. “are a bastard!”

The further they got up the mountain the icier the path became. The snow that had fallen on the ground had mixed with the earth to created a sludgy muddy snow deathtrap. It was lethally slippery and if he were to fall he would be covered in mud. Geralt carefully trudge through, the icy mud splattering his calves and Geralt didn’t give a fuck. Jaskier on the other hand was carefully hopping around trying to find the least muddy patches.

“Would you just walk normally?” Geralt asked with a heavy sigh.

Jaskier stuck his tongue out. “And ruin these clothes? I think not!”

“They’re just clothes, Jaskier.”

Jaskier squawked indignantly as he hopped onto a log that had fallen along the side of the path. “They are not just clothes, Geralt! You take that back!”

“Jaskier get down. You’ll break your neck.”

Jaskier spread his arms wide and licked his lips as he hobbled along the log. Geralt was still splattering the muddy snow all over the place. Jaskier cackled as Roach kicked up some snowy sludge and it hit Geralt squarely in the face. Geralt growled and wiped the muddy snow off his face and glared furiously at Jaskier.

Jaskier winked and danced to the edge of his log. “And this is why I have a degree from Oxenfurt and you, witcher, do not!”

He was about to spring from the edge of the log to a dry-ish patch on the ground when his foot caught on a branch that was sticking out. He cursed and went flying. Naturally he landed on the muddiest part of the path and crashed into a tree. Snow fell from the branch above and showered him in icy flakes.

“Oh cock!” He yelled as he shook the snow from his hair. Geralt was fucking hysterical, his arms were wrapped around his torso as he laughed at Jaskier’s misery. Jaskier grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at his witcher. It caught Geralt in the chest but it did nothing to stop his laughter so Jaskier threw another snowball and another. “Stop laughing at me you horse’s arse!”

“You’ve got some mud…” Geralt gestured at Jaskier’s entire body. “there. Don’t worry I’m sure no one will notice. If not I’m sure you’re smart enough to do something about it, with that degree you’ve got from Oxenfurt.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier whined. “On second thoughts give me your cloak! I’m fucking freezing.”

Geralt laughed again and the next second Jaskier was buried under the heavy fabric of Geralt’s cloak. He groaned and buried his head in his hands. He was never going to live this down.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier pankratz #wolfie's witcher writing #kaer morhen #winter prompts #my RSD is playing up so I'm not tagging but... enjoy?#enchant-the-pasta

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nasty-b · 3 years

Text

Drunken Filth

A Wire x Reader x Heat Smut Fanfic. Nsfw of course.

This is somewhat soft. Aside from the obvious fucking going on.

When you took his offer there had been loads of alcohol in your system. Saying yes to the huge man telling you he’d rock your world had been one of the more poor decisions in your life, for sure. Yet, here you were. Currently sitting on one of two beds that was situated in the inn he was staying at with one of his pals, who seemed to be currently out. Watching him remove weapons from his body he had somehow hidden underneath his huge cloak that came from his head.

Alcohol was a friend that made some things seem like a good idea but right now not even your trusty friend of liquor could convince you that this was gonna go fine. It’s not that you thought he needed weapons to accidentally hurt you regardless. The man was built like a half god.

Broad, muscled shoulders that connected arms stringy with muscle and strength, his hands huge and probably able to wrap easily around your throat just using one hand. His torso sculpted with abs, complemented by the weird net contraption that he was currently stripping off his upper body.

Your eyes continue to roam against your better judgement to his legs that were barely covered by the net stockings he was wearing. How someone with such an odd sense of fashion managed to get into your pants in the first place was beyond you. Aside from that, you realized dimly that you bit off far more than you could chew just looking at his crotch where he seemed to already be semi hard.

He noticed your stare and gave you a sheepish but unapologetic smirk. “..Sorry about that, it has been quite a while since we hit port.” He hummed and dropped his trident on the floor, yet still close enough that he’d be able to reach it from the bed. You swallow thickly. “Huh.” You didn’t even know his fucking name- Oh god.

Before you knew it he was leaning over you, easily looming over you and pressing his face into the crook between your head and your shoulder, right next to your neck and putting both his hands on your hip. “Getting cold feet?” He sounded husky, his voice having dropped an entire octave as he shifted a little, one of his legs settling between yours, way too close to an unfamiliar heat pooling there.

Did you have cold feet? Obviously yes but somehow with him just handling you the way he did right now.. you didn’t feel like running away and for the hills. “Ah, No- I’m good.” You breathed out softly, only for your inhale to hitch when he grabbed your top and pulled it off your upper body with ease, as if he had been waiting for the reply like a permission. There goes a layer of protection!

With a shaky gasp you resist the urge to cover up as the man looming over you re-positioned himself so he could stare with a hungry gaze down at your chest, grinning like he was about to commit some serious atrocities. Technically, you suppose he was going to commit some sort of sin any second now.

You’re basically blanketed in this beefcake of a man. You’re pretty sure he has more muscles in one leg than you have in your entire body. Though you were surprised he was being so gentle.. still. You would have thought a guy of his kind would just.. y’know, let use already. Carefully you put your hands against his chest. “Do you treat all women like a gentleman in the sheets?”

It was supposed to be a joke question but he just pressed into your touch before working on pulling your pants off, you had already lost your shoes and socks coming in here. “You’re not a prostitute and I’m not paying you for a service. Obviously I’m not just gonna lose it like a savage.” His tone twindled a little as he finally got your pants off, staring at your legs and grinning again.

You’re nervous. Had you ever masturbated, sure, of course. Sex with a stranger? Not so much. But he didn’t seem all too worried as he moved his body back a bit, grabbing you by your hip and lifting you like this until your shoulders and arms were with your head the only point of contact with the mattress. Oh wow.

With a weak pant you stretch your legs a little until they rest on his shoulders, averting your eyes and making him snort a little. “You’re awfully bashful who almost went full commando in front of the entire bar.” He murmured. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, only your panties right now separating him from your spot.

“You talk too much for a guy about to eat me out.” You narrow your eyes at the wall, your words coming out a bit more forceful than you wanted to but your whole body jerked as suddenly, as if in reply, he pressed his nose into your crotch, rubbing his face a little against the fabric. “Fair.”

His teeth chomp down on your underwear and you blink at the feeling as he suddenly pulled back- “Hey- Don’t you fucking-“ Rrriiiiiip- There goes that piece of clothes and you looked in dismay at the torn pieces dropping onto the mattress, where the dude just fucking left them. “Are you serious? I’m not swimming in-“

Again, you’re interrupted. This time by the feeling of a mouth directly on your lower lips. With a surprised whimper your legs tense and you throw your head back in surprise. Now that he had started it seemed like the patience from earlier was gone to the wind. At least that’s what one could assume, seeing how he was already licking fat stripes up your sex.

This was hotter than it should be and it only ended with him raising the temperature as he gave a somewhat sloppy kiss to your, now slowly waking up, genitals. You could feel heat begin to pool, a familiar sense of wetness joining his tongue as he just pressed his tongue between your lips and seemed set on trying to fuck you with that muscle.

It was good, maybe because it had been a while you actively did something down there, maybe because the alcohol helped or maybe because you were just horny from the get go but it feel pleasant, waking your inner urged up with a gentle tingle that spread throughout your entire body and made your body shake with heady gasps.

And yet it was awfully not enough to really get you into the zone. Were you aroused? Most definitely. Were you capable of cumming from this? You don’t wanna try and imagine the timespan that would have to be invested for that. The tongue was good. But it was not enough, didn’t stretch you all that much if at all and barely reached deep enough to scratch the itch that had formed deep within you.

And then he bites you right on the inside of your tigh and you jerk upwards with a shocked noise that was torn between arousal and pain. “Fucking-“ He bites you again, closer to your female sex and you gasp, clenching your eyes shut. His gentle pace went sideways real fast as he began to almost violently dig his teeth into your skin right where you were the most sensitive.

Tugging on it, only to lick over the bruises and cuts afterwards and groaning lowly every time he did so. You yourself were left yelping and panting like a rabid dog, trying to keep your composure high and your volume to a minimum. “Nhhfg. God it’s been long. Spread your legs more.” But instead of waiting for you to do so he grabbed your thighs and just forced them apart to press another heated kiss onto your sex, licking over your clit with firm, long swipes of his tongue.

You’re going to space because all you’re seeing was stars. So much for not being able to come from oral but it felt like you were climbing this hill faster than anticipated. Close, very close- he dropped your body back down and wiped his mouth with his arm, breathing heavily as you made a confused noise. “I’m putting it in.”

At first you’re put off but it doesn’t last long as he just tugged his shorts down, revealing an aching, much bigger than anticipated, cock. His tip was already red with frustration- He must have been keeping it in for quite a while. It just made you a bit nervous seeing how ready to go he seemed.

Is there a way to fit that after months of going dry? He seemed to think so because he had already grabbed your thighs again to situate you two, the tip of his cock gently nudging your entrance. Oh god- You feel your body tense against your will. “First time?” Your gaze snapped to the man looming over you, a lazy smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. “Don’t worry.. we can take it slow.”

He muttered, right before beginning to press his hips forward and that at a steady pace. Your breath stops completely as you threw your head back and whined, needy and out of breath. That felt so much better than the impromptu toys you’ve been using or made yourself. For a moment neither of you moved, you just breathing and him rolling his hips every now and then, sending shivers up your spine as the need to get him to move grew.

And then the door opens and you tense completely, clenching up so badly that your partner cursed under his breath and slammed both his hands next to your head. You try to shrink and hide from whoever just entered the room and the huge man towering over you seemed ready to go full on primal on whoever was unlucky enough to cross his sight.

“What the fucking hell?! Never heard of kn- Nh?” He shifted, his cock pressing into a spot that made you bite the bottom of your lip as he looked over his shoulder. “Heat. I thought you were out for the night.” He grunted and his grip on your thighs relaxed, probably leaving bruises.

What the fuck was going on? Your arousal was stumped by the second stranger who was currently closing the door and walking in here. At first out of your view but then he did step into your line of gaze and god, what the hell. He looked like a zombie on steroids. He was as lean as Wire, a whole head shorter but his blue dreadlocks that ran along his back made him look oddly beautiful.

“The fuck? Send him out this instant or I’m leaving.” You snap at the man who was still buried deep inside you but he just gave you a somewhat pained and sheepish grin. “Just gimme a second-“ Hello? Are you having a fever dream? He’s literally balls deep inside you and about to start a chat with his buddy? “I was going to go to the bar but heard you through the door when I passed by.”

‘Heat’s voice was somewhat gravelly but much smoother than expected, semi deep but nothing too extreme. His eyes were resting on you as if you were some expensive alcohol he wanted to try out. It made you anxious. “Can you stop staring?! Fuck! What’s with this-“ There’s a big hand on your face.

Asshole! “Getting bothered?” The dude balls deep in you jested but his buddy, instead of denying it, rolled his shoulders. “Depends..” His face was flushed and he looked definitely bothered. Flustered even. His gaze settled on you again. “I guess it’s been a while..”

You shove the other’s hand off your face finally, making him snort a little as he looked down. “Thought I’d need to invest in a whore but she’s awfully better. Tight and all shy like.” Heat scoffed from where he stood, walking over, slightly more leering now. “You’re making it sound good, Wire.”

Well, now you knew both their names. You just groan loudly and throw your head back. “I’m losing my mood!” You shriek agitated, only for Wire to pull out a little and thrust back into you. Right in front of his friend. It was horrible and oddly making you feel hotter- You’re not into exposing yourself or humiliation though so you wrap your legs around his hip to keep him still.

Wire made a noise like he was a dying animal and shivered above you as his cock was stuck seated deep inside of you, pretty sure he could break out of that hold but he never did. He just grunted and began to hump against you. Heat murred softly, lowering his head to get a good look at you. You cover yourself as much as you can, ready for him to say some douchebaggy thing.

“..Can I join..?”

Leave it to life to prove you wrong. His hand had come up to cover his mouth a little, a faint blush gracing his features as he gave you a steaming look and just waited on you. Embarrassingly you don’t say no right away. You actually consider it. Wire groaned above you, trying to thrust into you still but not freeing himself. “Whatever- Can we just get to it?!” He complained even though he’s the one who started chatting to his pal in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with you. You must be drunker than you assumed you had been- “Fine. No kissing on the mouth.” You grit out between clenched teeth, Wire above you giving a happy snicker at Heat perking up and averting his gaze. This was straight out of a bad porn clip.

Any moment now there’d be a pimp at the door waving cash at you three- Oh wow. Heat moved smoothly, easily enough slipping right behind you, forcing you to sit up until your upper body rested against him, his hands reaching around your middle to press a little onto your stomach, right under your bladder. Wire grunted. “You tryin’ to feel me?”

The man behind you just hummed. “As if I’d be able to feel that small-“ Wire snarled, his hips pulling back and then slamming right into you. “Ughnf-“ You bite your teeth together and your whole body was shoved into the burly man behind you. Oh fuck- You grab Heat by his forearms and cling to him for dear life.

The previous somewhat gentleness was gone as Wire pounded into you as if it was going out of style. Heat? The man had asked to join but he was seemingly content with slowly pushing your bra off, cupping your chest and pressing his thumbs over your nipples while panting into your neck. There was an obvious erection pressing into your back.

Especially everytime Wire slammed into you with the force of a speeding bullet train. Pleasure was building rapidly now, so rapidly you did not notice the man behind you take off his corset, carelessly throwing it on the ground with one arm before clinging to you again. The tall man between your legs gave a grim glare to Heat but it turned to a self satisfied smirk.

“Hold on..” He panted out, suddenly pulling out of you. Right before you managed to cum as well. God had to be shitting you. “Nhff- Fuck you!” Wire blocked a kick from your left leg. “Hold on- Fuck- This is gonna be good.” Right before he flipped you. Like a naked piece of meat, right onto your stomach with your face slamming right onto the zombie’s hard cock that was hidden behind his pants.

Said zombie made a low, surprised and startled moaning noise as his whole body trembled aggressively. He wasn’t even naked yet and you could feel his cock twitch against your cheek as he grabbed the back of your head with one hand, shaking and twitching as if resisting the urge to just press you right in there.

Wire helps. He reached over to put his hand over his partners and press you right into the others crotch. “W-Wire! For fucks s-sake-“ Heat panted, by now completely flushed and flustered. If not for Wire shoving his cock back into you, you’d probably find it cute. But Wire, as said, shoved his dick bad in so deep that you were sure he could poke you right in the womb if he stabbed you any harder down there.

Somehow you still found it cute. Heat was holding onto you, grinding his hips as if he was nothing but a dog that was about to piss on the carpet, knowing it’s not allowed but gonna do it anyway. “Heat- Heat, pull down your pants.” Wire panted from behind you, his breathing short and choppy, everytime you clenched he groaned. Heat didn’t seem to be paying much attention, too busy palming at your back, reaching over to grope your ass and knead the flesh as if you were some sort of stress ball. Oddly, this seemed to get him going just as hard.

His cock was practically dancing in there, right against your face. The attention of two men on you gave you a confidence boost you didn’t know was possible, reaching over to grab the band of his pants and yank it down. The man in front of you had a hitch in breath, arching his back a little. “Nhff.. Hff..”

It put you a bit off, seeing how he gave you this steamy look but not saying anything. Wire to your aid. “He’s into it. Just-“ His voice cuts off as Heat scooted a bit back, shaking his head with a breathy whimper. “I’m pent up- G-Gimme a second.” The man supported his weight backwards with his hands, having let go of you.

It made for a nice presentation. Your gaze fixated on the hard cock in front of you, twitching and.. very inviting. Even though he scooted back a bit you could see just how hard he was. If you thought Wire’s equipment seemed stressed earlier? Heat looked like a volcano about to explode.

And then there were the piercings.. A Jacobs Ladder staring right at you, five rows of silver gleaming in the light, a bit of precum having reached the first row. Wire behind you made a soft noise. “Let’s team up..” He panted. You’re confused about that but when he slammed into you the next time he reached over to grab his friends ankles and drag him close, right into your zone.

You shouldn’t. The blue haired man gave a keening noise as his bare cock ended up rubbing right against your skin, trying to jerk his legs back but Wire had them in a steel vice. The noises he made got only worse when you reached out and took his hard organ into your hands. “Oh! Oh fuck- Hff- I’m gonna-“

You were gonna too. Wire’s thrusts had slowed down a little, losing intensity but they were driving you up the wall fast enough. What’s the most logical thing to do? Tag team. You press his cock a bit closer to your face and lick a fat stripe up the other’s skin. Heat yelled out, throwing his head back but you didn’t leave him the chance, propping yourself up a little so you could take his head into your mouth.

Never in your life did you think that you’d be giving some stranger a blowjob but sucking on the other’s hard on while getting plowed from behind put you into a new world, full with new possibilities. Heat’s hands had clamped onto your shoulders, massaging the skin while Wire’s hands were clinging to your hips, bruising them.

“Ouh- Oh fuck- Fuck!” The blue haired man curled a little, his eyes screwing shut with bliss as you worked over his cock. Your hands massaging his shaft, your mouth on his tip and all this while Wire was still thrusting into you. You’re gonna- You do.

Your body cramped up when you came, clenching down on both men front and back. Wire cursed loudly, his pace stuttering and his grip getting even more brutal before with another slam of his hips he suddenly dragged out of you. At first you were confused but then the hot spurt of cum on your ass reminded you that the man hadn’t been wearing a condom.

Bless him.

Heat was, surprisingly, the one who lasted the longest but not much longer than Wire, just as you were popping your mouth off his cock, your hands squeezing it, did he cum. Your first blowjob you were not gonna guzzle some stranger’s fluids. Who knew if he had something.

Bit too late to think about it now but it’s not like you were living on the edge- You slump forward against the man in front of you, sprawling, exhausted. All of you were panting. Oh.. fuck.. This had been.. so much better than any sex you ever had in your life. Which wasn’t exactly much but-..

“Yeah..” Heat’s hand was on your hand, you don’t lift your gaze, closing your eyes to try and rest a little. “We..” Wire groaned a little, settling down next to you and putting his head onto Heat’s right leg. The man himself leaning against the wall. Suddenly Wire wrapped his arm around you to pull you close, Heat still having his hand on your head. “We are fucking keeping you..”

#Heat #Wire #One Piece #Reader

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ask-them-bois · 3 years

Text

Blood of My Blood

TW: Needles, lots of blood, animal death and gore.

TLDR: Vornik gets his happy ending.

***

Vornik sat in the small hive of the village medic, twisting his claws around the hem of his cloak as said medic bustled about in front of him.

“Alright, guardian, after this one, I think we’ll be able to stop these sessions. Blood transfusions are a nasty business as it is, and for someone like you… well, they can be borderline dangerous.” She turned around, a bag of jade-hued ichor and its attached needle in hand. “Necessary as they may be, after you nearly lost your arm, but still- we should be careful all the same.” She added.

“Jade?” Vornik asked quietly, surprised, “Don’t I usually get olive, since it’s the closest-”

“Mhm. Unfortunately, Mr. Andrin- the fellow who usually donates the blood- broke a wrist last week when he was working on his hive’s roof. Fell off, shattered a horn on the way- nasty business.”

“Oh.”

“This time, the blood’s been donated from a passer-through. Heard we had a wriggler in need of some, and when we told her about our dear guardian, she happily offered some of her own.”

“I’m not a wriggler.” Vornik mumbled as the healer took his arm and began to rub an ointment on the juncture of his elbow. “I’m eight sweeps old.”

The elderly bronzeblood smiled and pat his shoulder. “I know, dear, but you’re a wriggler to me, guardian of our village or not.”

Vornik made no comment, turning his head away as the needle punctured his skin. The healer hung the bag on a hook above his head, and pat his shoulder again.

“Just sit tight, dear.” She hummed, before she turned away.

Vornik did as he was told, watching the emerald blood slide down the tube and into his arm. Even through the thin plastic casing, he could smell the coppery scent of blood. He suddenly sat up slightly, frowning, and took another sniff of the air.

There was something off about the blood, he thought; it smelled… strange, yet familiar at the same time.

“Are you sure this blood is clean?” He asked, squinting at the bag.

“Mhm! I checked the jadeblood for any abnormalities.”

“And?”

“And there was only one, but the jade assured me it was normal for her caste. I had to take her word for it, I’m not an expert on jades.”

Vornik nodded slowly and tried to relax, but his gaze kept drifting back to the bag.

Two hours later, the bag was drained, and the needle was pulled from his skin. The healer tenderly wrapped his elbow in gauze, then passed him a caramel candy.

“These are your favorites, yes?”

Vornik happily took it, nodding as he popped the sweet into his mouth with a mumbled, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear. Go on, now- best get home before the sun rises.”

Vornik bid the healer goodbye and slipped out of her hive. He made his way through the village, sucking on the candy. The night was cloudy, only a handful of stars visible through the mounting cloud cover.

Vornik made it to the edge of the village without being stopped, for which he was grateful; as much as he loved the villagers, he felt nauseated and tired, as he often did after transfusions.

After his mountain came down, his arm had been nearly shorn from his body. The muscle had been severely damaged, and the bone cracked. The giant scar he bore now was a giant callous of pinched skin, where his flesh had mended over the lost muscle. After the heavy loss of blood that accompanied the wound, Vornik had been made to undergo blood transfusions to aid in the healing process.

The first bags had been from Innocent, his ancestor’s generosity boundless. But after giving too much at once, the healer had shooed Innocent away so he could recover, and had gotten the blood from other greenbloods in the village. Olive was the closest match, and Vornik’s body had been receptive of it, so every two weeks, Vornik had found himself back in the healer’s hive to receive another dose.

Now, with jade in his veins, he just hoped his body wouldn’t reject the ichor. He’d been healing well- physically, at least- and it didn’t hurt to lift his arm anymore.

Even so…

Alphadad leaped to his feet at the sight of him as he reached the edge of the village, six ears standing alert and three noses nuzzling against his torso.

“I’m okay, alpha. I’m all done, let’s go home.” Vornik smiled softly, petting each howl-beast muzzle in turn. He clambered onto the giant beast’s back, and Alphadad turned, bounding for their mountain.

Vornik shut his eyes and turned his face into the wind as they galloped past his old home, trying to ignore the wrenching of his blood-pumper.

By the time they reached the mountain, the horizon was growing light. Vornik quickly dismounted and hurried inside, with Alphadad just behind him. His pace didn’t slow until he stepped out onto the ledge, and saw his hidden forest spread out below him.

Tension unraveled from his shoulders as he descended the slope, entering the blue-shining trees. The sound of birdsong and insect chirps wreathed around him, buzzing in his ears pleasantly. A stag was drinking from the pool when he passed; it paused and raised its head, but Vornik paid it no mind; the creatures in his mountain were comfortable with his presence now, and he with theirs. He’d forbid his howl-beast brethren from harming any of them, unable to stomach the thought of the near-mystical creatures being harmed.

Ascending the slop on the far side, he entered his den.

Since moving into it some perigrees ago, it had slowly become more and more like his old den; like home.

He had a new pile of furs and blankets and pillows to sleep in, only now they were cradled in a half-egg-shaped frame, to keep them from getting dirty. Barrels of water stood against one wall; back then, he’d set the barrels out on the cliff during storms to gather rain water, but now he just dragged them to the pool when they were emptied.

Above them, with the help of Innocent, Vornik had mounted some shelves into the stone. Utensils, food, tools, knickknacks, paint cans and brushes- all neatly organized on said shelves.

He’d dug himself a proper fire pit, where the embers of the early evening’s flame still smoldered.

At the back of the den, next to his bed and on a small pedestal, was the painted stone from his original home, surrounded by pretty crystals and shells.

Finally, there were the walls; he no longer had miles of mountain tunnels to paint, but he did have blank slates, and luminescent paint. In the flickering light of the embers, glowing howl-beasts and antler-beasts and faceless trolls danced among swirling designs and stars.

Vornik tossed a log and a few sticks onto the embers, coaxing them back into a warm flame. He glanced at the provisions waiting him on the shelf, but he still felt queasy after his treatment. He retreated to his bed, carefully removing his cloak and laying it aside before he curled up among the furs and pillows. Alphadad settled at the mouth of the cave, keeping watch on the trees.

It was as Vornik buried his nose in a howl-beast pelt, already half asleep, that he distantly realized why the jade blood had smelled familiar.

By morning, he’d forgotten. As soon as he was conscious that he was awake, his stomach was gripped with pain. He sat up with a bark of surprise, clutching his torso. Alphadad grunted, concerned, two heads rising to look at their charge.

Vornik panted, his eyes wide with alarm; he’d never felt this hungry, even after going without meals in winter, when food was scarce. He was dizzy, his mouth flooded with drool as he caught sight of the food waiting on the shelves. He scrambled out of his bed and lunged across the cave.

He ripped a loaf of bread from the shelf, barely pausing to unwrap the wax paper as he devoured bite after bite.

Halfway through the loaf, he dropped it, stumbled to the mouth of his den, and emptied his stomach of bread. He moaned in pain, eyes rolling back as he was gripped with more hunger pangs.

Stumbling back to the shelves, he pulled everything down, sniffing them for proof of rot or mold, but it all seemed fine. As his nose passed over a bundle of dried meat, he thought he might pass out again as a new wave of dizziness and drool washed over him.

He didn’t hesitate, ripping the twine off and shoving the meat into his mouth. He threw back his head and groaned in delight; that was what he needed, it seemed, and in what felt like moments, the meat was gone. He tore through the rest of his food, looking for more.

Raw beef slid down his throat next, followed by grilled chicken and smoked fish. Sniffing around desperately, he realized he was out of meat; only fruits and vegetables and bread remained, and his gastric-sack did unpleasant flips at their smell.

“More… alpha, I need- I need more!” He whimpered, turning to look at his lusus. Alphadad didn’t hesitate, leaping to his feet and bounding out of the mountain.

Vornik groaned again, dragging himself to the water barrels. He dunked his head in one, fears be damned, gulping down water in an attempt to stifle the hunger. He pulled his head back out, hair spraying water everywhere, and stood, clutching the edges.

He panted, staring down at his warped reflection; what was wrong with him? He’d never reacted this way to blood before- it was the only reason he could come up with for the sudden hunger. Maybe he *had* rejected the jade blood, and his body was trying to purge it.

He should see the healer, he decided. He spun about to fetch his cloak, stumbled over his own feet, and collapsed.

He groaned, stars exploding behind his eyes; he felt too weak, his temples and stomach pulsing in harmonious pain. It seemed to be moving, too, the pain rolling down each limb until it reached his fingers and toes, making them twitch. Even his horns felt electrified; he reached up to touched one, and cried out as a jolt shot through him.

He dropped his head, pressing his cheek to the cold stone. He tried to focus on breathing, shudders wracking his body as he dug his claws into the floor. There was a whine in his ears, distant and shrill like a broken radio.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there; he was going in and out of consciousness. But when he managed to lift his head again, it was in response to the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Blinking blearily, he found his lusus standing before him, a dead antler-beast on the ground at his paws, blood oozing sluggishly from a tear in its throat.

The coppery tang hit the back of Vornik’s throat, and he was moving before he was even aware of doing so. With his claws, he rend open the carcass, and was tearing out flesh.

He ate like a frenzied beast, blood coating his hands and mouth as he devoured flesh and muscle and organs. His knees became sticky and hot as the blood pooled around the rip in the belly. He was snarling, snorting, and panting, like his howl-beast siblings did when they devoured meals. He paused to lick away the blood that ran down his arm, before gouging out the liver and tearing into it.

He didn’t stop until he physically could eat no more; the carcass was in shambles, nearly half of it now in Vornik’s stomach. Finally sated, he slumped over to stare at the deer’s head, reaching up with bloody fingers to pet its ear.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for sustaining me.” He rasped, throat thick with blood; it was something he said at every kill, before he and his siblings ate. It was the closest he ever came to prayer- yet this time, all civility and grace he usually held during the meal had vanished until he was quenched.

Vornik laid for a while, eyes closed and breathing deep; sanity seemed to have come back to him, as did a warm strength that filled out his limbs and chest.

He felt… good. Content. Suddenly exhausted, he passed out right there on the ground.

It went on like that for several nights. He’d wake, eat, drink, and pass back out, to be consumed by fitful sleep and nightmares. He’d toss and turn, wake with a jolt, and devour more meat. Alphadad doted on him diligently, bringing fresh kills nearly every night. The cave was filled with carrion and bones, but Vornik didn’t have the strength to remove them.

Then all at once, he felt like he’d woken up; he was clear headed, able to breathe fully. He had the strength to get up and make his way to the pool, where he drank and cleaned the blood that caked his face and claws.

He sat back, looking up at the giant crystals that hung from the ceiling; through the cracks in the stone, he could see purple and green-tinged light; the moons were out and full. He didn’t feel sick anymore. Didn’t feel thirsty or hungry. His skin itched, but other than that, he felt fine.

Looking back down, he jumped in surprise as he caught sight of his reflection. Leaning over the surface, his eyebrows shot up; was the really him? He looked… bad. Haunted.

His eyes were empty, shadowed below by dark circles. His mouth was set in a grimace, the scar over his eye vivid. That wasn’t him, he thought; that was the shell of a troll he’d become. That wasn’t who he wanted to be.

He reached up with shaky claws and ran a finger down the mark. The smell of sea salt, blood, and a flash of fuchsia filled his mind for a moment, before he shook his head and dropped his hand. When he looked back at his reflection, he saw his eyes were glowing. He frowned; they only ever did that when he used his powers, why were they-

Agony tore through him once more, rocketing up his spine and bursting into his thinkpan like a firework. He screamed, the sound echoing through the chasm and causing birds to take flight.

He clutched his head, falling forward, into the shallows as he writhed. The ground shook, and Alphadad was at his side, barking and whining in alarm.

Vornik couldn’t breathe; his body was refusing to listen to him, pain buzzing down into his teeth. He snapped his jaws in the air, clawing at his mouth. His eyes suddenly shot open.

“Out!” He shouted, “I need out! Outside! Alpha!”

Alphadad didn’t argue. He shoved his muzzle under Vornik’s body, and the boy grabbed on, clambering over his lusus’ center head to clutch at his scruff as the monster hounded for the exit. Pressed flat against his lusus’ neck, the roof of the tunnel scraped against Vornik’s back and made him wail.

They burst out onto the mountainside, and Alphadad bound down to the forest, where he lowered himself to the ground. Vornik slid from his back and hit the dirt, pain pulsing through his very veins.

Everything was overwhelming; the forest was quiet, yet he could hear every insect chirp, every rustle of the leaves and the footfalls of deer. The smells of the woods, once pleasant, were rancid in his lungs, until he was heaving, trying to cough them back out. The moonlight stung his eyes, the wind slicing at his skin like knives.

From among the trees, he heard the near silent padding of his fellow howl-beast’s approach. A dozen of them appeared, sniffing the air as concerned grunts and growls rolled in their throats.

“What’s- happening- to me?” Vornik croaked, staring at his siblings pleadingly. They paused, turning to snuffle at one another. A knowing look seemed to dawn on all of them at the same time, and they suddenly retreated- all but one of them.

Vornik recognized her; he knew nearly every howl-beast in the mountains. This particular one was a she-wolf with red fur; Vornik had named her Russet, and had pup-sat for several of her litters when she went hunting.

Russet stepped forward, brushing her nose along his jaw comfortingly, before she stepped back, only to lunge forward and slam her head into him.

Vornik fell back with a yelp, pain skirting up his back like electricity. “Russet-?!” He gasped.

She leaped back, bowing in a play stance.

“No, Russet, I don’t-”

She barked, knocking into him again. She turned and vanished into the trees, before she came back and barked again, her tail wagging.

Run!

The word exploded in his head, a painful energy surging through him like a wave. He scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly.

Run!

He took off.

Vornik wasn’t sure if it was terror or excitement that made him move, but he was suddenly tearing through the trees, his lusus and packmate at his sides. Other howl-beasts bled from between the trees to join them in their race.

Vornik didn’t know where they were going, but he was a man consumed; run, his body told him, the pain fading to a background feeling. Run. Run!

He vaulted over a log, lost his footing, fell, and leaped back up, racing on.

They burst out of the woods and onto the plains, where a heard of mega-fauna antler-beasts were grazing. The beasts startled, bellowed, and wheeled about to flee. Vornik bellowed right back, and his vision went red.

He screeched to a stop, throwing back his head as his muscles seized.

He screamed, screamed, screamed- and his skin rent open as he was transformed.

He fell forward, his body shaking and jerking from side to side as he convulsed. He thrashed his head, snarling, his claws digging into the dirt. His lusus and howl-beast siblings watched, silently circling around him to wait.

The base of his spine burned in a white hot, needling pain. His every fang pulsed and throbbed, his eyes squeezed shut as his thinkpan scattered to the wind.

His jaw was stretching, his bones snapping and reforming, his fangs growing as he snarled at the moons. His form doubled, tripled in size, new muscles and flesh rippling into being across his limbs.

His hair turned white from the roots, as bright white fur burst into being along the rest of his body. He heaved with a great shudder, and his spine elongated into a tail with a flourish. His ears grew longer, the tips sharper, as he tossed his head. His hands and feet became broad and thick, his fingers and toes into heavy, sharp claws.

His clothes were suddenly too constricting as his chest broadened, expanded, and he tore them off with a snarl.

With a final burst of pain, he threw back his head and screamed, only for it to change into a roaring howl, before he collapsed.

Vornik lay in the moonlight, heaving for breath as he tried to figure out what just happened. Terror and pain faded away until they were barely echoes. He whimpered, peeling open his eyes and sitting up slowly to look down at himself.

He… He was a howl-beast.

Or partially one, at least. A monster, caught between troll and howl-beast. He reached up, patting his head, and was relieved to feel his horns still remained. He stood on wobbly feet and twisted about, looking at himself. He was huge! He must have been nearly seven feet tall, at least! He was covered in thick white fur that made him look even bigger, and he had a tail! He focused, and managed to make it wag a little. He looked down his arm, and saw his scar still remained, but it was mostly covered by his fur.

Dropping back down, he finally looked up at his family. Alphadad was regarding him, with only warmth and pride in all his eyes.

“Alpha?” Vornik tried to say, but it didn’t come out in his voice. His body spoke for him, his ears pressing back and head cocking to the side.

“Little Omega.” His lusus responded warmly, all six ears pricking up and middle head tossing back and forth as his tail wagged.

“I’m… a howl-beast.” Vornik’s tail thumped and he bowed his head.

“Always been a howl-beast.” His lusus leaned down and nuzzled each muzzle against Vornik’s head. “Only now you look like one.” He chuffed affectionately, nipping Vornik’s ear gently.

Vornik nuzzled his nose along one jaw, before he looked at his siblings. Each one of them had their ears pressed back, tails tucked, and were respectfully looking away from him. Vornik whined at them, assuring them it was okay.

“What do I do now?” He whimpered, his own ears falling flat and tail tucking half-way between his legs.

Alphadad pulled away to regard him. “What do you want to do?” He asked, all three heads cocking to the right at the same time.

In response, Vornik’s stomach gave a mighty rumble, and he heard amused chuffs from his siblings.

“Hunt.” Vornik bared his teeth, his muzzle wrinkling and eyes beginning to glow as energy surged through him.

Alphadad stamped his feet, tail high as he barked with excitement. “Then we hunt!” He snarled, tossing a heads.

Vornik slammed his claws against the ground as a sudden, ferocious elation- borderline bloodthirst- filled his chest. He threw back his head and let out another roaring howl that echoed through the mountains.

Above him, the sky lights burst to life, as if called by his song. Greens and blues and pinks and yellows snaked across the sky, stretching across the canvas of midnight and stars. The other howl-beasts reacted, throwing back their heads to howl, too.

“Ancestors! The ancestors join us!” Jawbreaker- a male with black fur- howled.

Vornik couldn’t sit still another moment; he thought if he did, he might explode. He shot off across the plains, reveling in his new power; he had questions, lots of them, but for the moment he let them go, all but throwing himself, willingly, into the nature he’d denied himself the past sweep.

He could feel his blood-pumper beating against his ribs like a caged animal. He felt every ripple of his muscles as they bunched and released as he thundered forward, his claws tearing into the grass.

Every sense was heightened, but it was no longer painful; he could hear his brothers, his sisters, and his father racing along behind him, but none of them seemed able to keep up with his speed. He could smell the earthy musk of his prey, somewhere ahead in the hills, so strongly that he could taste it on his tongue. His vision was sharpened, so much so that every blade of grass was distinct, even as he ran by.

With a leap full of lupine grace, his form changed again.

He nearly lost his footing in surprise, but managed to stay upright as his body morphed, painlessly and seamlessly, into a full-blown howl-beast body. He wanted to stop and check it out, but to pause meant he had to stop running. He could still feel his horns atop his head. Adrenaline was pouring through him, churning through his veins until he could barely contain it. He threw back his head and howled again, and heard the answering cry from his pack.

The mountains came alive as the other packs responded, too, reveling in the glee their brother had found once more. Vornik crested a hill and finally slowed as he spotted the prey up ahead. His flanks heaved as he fought for breath, his head was spinning with hunger and euphoria, and drool dripped from his jaw. His muscles ached from the sudden growth and use, but it was dull. Satisfying.

Finally, he thought, his tail wagging behind him as he eyed the herd.

Finally, he was himself again.

He was Vornik again.

#blood of my blood #story time #vornik gorsin #tw needles #tw animal death #tw blood #long post #very long post #sorry to just drop this but i love it very much #my boy is happy again! :')#ill update his bio soon

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kenobette · 4 years

Text

Accidentally On Purpose: Obi-Wan x Reader

“It’s been hours, Obi-Wan. Don’t you think that the younglings would have made it out by now?”(Y/N)’s voice called out softly to General Kenobi, who sat back on his cloak, just a few feet away from her.

His one eyelid peered open just enough for him to glance over at her nonchalantly as she broke the long withstanding silence. It had been hours that the two Jedi sat meditating on the icy ground directly across from the gargantuan mouth of Ilum’s Crystal Cave, which earlier that day, swallowed a huddled group of younglings. Obi-Wan and (Y/N) were selected for this mission by the council, because although it did not seem it, the task was highly delicate.

Force-sensitive children were becoming increasingly difficult to come across, especially with the Sith constantly plotting to intercept retrieval of any such children. Given the current state in the Clone War, it was now more important than ever that the younglings already at the temple complete their training and become full-functioning Jedi. That led Obi-Wan and (Y/N) to where they resided in Ilum, waiting patiently outside of the cave as the children ventured into its depths in search of their kyber crystals.

“Have faith in them, (Y/N). They may be young, but they are very capable and might just surprise you. Don’t forget, you were in their shoes once,” Obi-Wan replied calmly, his eyelid falling shut as he reverted to clearing his mind in meditation. (Y/N) exhaled shakily, partially from the cold but mostly due to her reserved anxiety. Another few hours passed. The pale sunlight continued to drift away, and gradually, night crept in.

“I do hope they’re alright,” (Y/N) muttered as she rummaged through the leather satchel she’d brought, its contents consisting of the basic necessities for the two of them in case they had happened to end up in the situation they were currently in. Obi-Wan now sat in a more slouched posture, and leaning back on his palm, glanced over his shoulder at (Y/N), who he could sense was an absolute ball of nerves. “I assure you, they are fine. I remember hearing of one batch who once took three days,” he spoke, and as he watched her eyes widen he quickly interjected his own statement, “Not that our younglings will, of course. I simply mean to point out that this is nothing out of the ordinary.”

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning her attention to the bag, which she then pulled a large sleeping bag like apparatus out of. Her hand shoved itself deeper into the satchel, feeling around for the second sleeping bag... and it then dawned upon her. She glanced over her shoulder towards Obi-Wan, clearing her throat shakily before speaking, “Kenobi, did you pack your bedroll in a separate bag?” Knowing her back was turned to him, the tiniest bit of a smirk tugged upward at the corner of his mouth. He replied cooly, “No, everything was placed into yours. What, is something missing?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shut tightly and she cursed herself internally before turning and standing with the single sleeping bag between her arms, looking down at Obi-Wan. “There’s only one bedroll.” His eyebrows lifted, imitating a surprised expression perfectly. His hand met his chin and he sighed out, stroking his beard as his eyes searched the ground before meeting hers. “I suppose I’ll have to make sufficient use of my cloak for the night. You take the bedroll.” (Y/N) stuttered as she searched for words, sputtering out, “No! I mean, no...” She sighed, slapping her hand against her forehead as it then dragged down her cold-flushed cheek. “No, Obi-Wan. I am not going to let you freeze. I can’t go back to the temple without the younglings and you. I- We will just have to make do.”

“Are you sure, (Y/N)? If you aren’t comfortable with such a thing, then I wouldn’t wish it,” Obi-Wan asked as he gazed upwards at her with large, understanding eyes speckled with a familiar hint of mischievousness. (Y/N)’s mouth tightened, her hand resting against her hip, “Really, Kenobi? After all we’ve been through, I’m probably a little too comfortable with you.” She then set away to unrolling the sleeping bag on the icy floor, smoothing out the edges and brushing the top off. “Ah yes, we can’t forget what happened on Naboo.” Obi-Wans comment made (Y/N) stop her movements abruptly to turn and glare at him, narrowing her eyes. Thank the stars the last flecks of sunlight were just then dissipating, or else the crimson tint to her cheeks would have been far more noticeable.

“Alright, let’s get settled before nightfall takes full effect and there isn’t a difference between us and the ice-covered statues in this place,” voiced (Y/N) hesitantly, plucking the cover to the sleeping sack open, kicking off her boots one by one, and sitting down on the fleecy inner side of the sleep-sack. She then looked to Obi-Wan, patting the downy cloth beside her, “I don’t bite, you know.” Her comment elicited a nervous chuckle from him as he stepped out of his unlaced boots, lowering himself onto the ground beside her. “I’d say I know, but honestly, sometimes I question it.”

(Y/N)’s face fell, and although it was now pitch black, she could sense Obi-Wan’s sly grin and she promptly smacked his arm. “Maybe I should’ve left you freeze.” She then reached downwards to seal up the sleeping bag until only their faces were exposed to the freezing air. Immediately, the two noticed how close in proximity they were, the tips of their noses mere inches from each other. Their fingertips brushed just barely against their torsos. Her curious eyes met his warm ones, sending a bittersweet chill down her spine. “Cold?” he whispered, his balmy breath fanning across her face. “No, I’ve truly never been warmer- of course I’m cold, wise one,” she whispered bitterly, a hearty chuckle Obi-Wan’s response as her breath tickled his beard. “Here, trust me.”

(Y/N) held her breath as his hand grazed across her waist and gently gripped the fabric of her tunic, his thumb pressing into her side as he pulled her flush against him in one steady movement. His other arm snaked to wrap itself around her shoulders, cradling her against his warm body. (Y/N) released her breath and exhaled contentedly as his heat radiated against her smaller frame, her hand enveloping itself in the folds of his robes for warmth. “Stars, you’re like an exhausted hyperdrive,” she muttered softly, allowing her eyelids to flutter shut. Obi-Wan laughed carefully, avoiding too much movement in fear of stirring (Y/N). “Sleep. We’ve got to be up in time for the younglings to return.” Her only response was a weak nuzzle into his chest, which made his heart tremble over its next beat. His lips pursed into a thin line and then relaxed as he sighed out slowly, leaning downward an inch to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

Before he knew it, consciousness had evaded him as well.

the next day

Thumping. Far away, but (Y/N) sensed it through the ground.

Her eyelids peeled themselves open as her hand wriggled up from the depths of the sleeping bag to rub the sleep from her eyes. He was the first thing she saw. He was so peaceful, so serene. His face rested, his chapped lips parted just barely as his deep breaths fluctuated in time with the rising and falling of his chest. Against her, she could feel his steady heartbeat. Her fingertips grazed his forehead, gently nudging aside a few stray locks of his tousled hair.

“Um... Master (Y/L/N), are you alright?”

The voice appeared out of nowhere, startling (Y/N) to no end as she jolted and frantically rushed to free herself of Obi-Wan’s clutch and the sleep sack, tripping as she scrambled to her feet. “Why- I- yes-...,” she struggled to find words, quickly running her hands through her hair and clearing her throat as she composed herself best she could. A youngling stared up at her wide-eyed, before bursting into a grin that spread cheek-to-cheek. He practically threw his spread-open palm at her, waving it high in her face to proudly display the small, glinting crystal. “I found mine!”

“I- Congratulations Rix, it’s beautiful,” spoke softly, placing her hand on the young one’s shoulder. A voice came from over (Y/N)’s shoulder, “Yes, Rix. Beautiful.”

She turned around, moving aside so the youngling could display his finding for the other Jedi, but when she did, his eyes were on her rather than the crystal. “Absolute wonder of the galaxy, isn’t it?”

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kate-river · 3 years

Text

Of Dragonids and Witchers

In which two Wolf school witchers set out for a monster hunt and finally come to terms with their difficult emotional past.

Dear @ohciq this is your secret santa speaking :) I wish you very happy holidays and I hope this adds a few drops of water to your crops! ;)

Thanks @thewitchersecretsanta for hosting this amazing event!

Warnings: none

read on AO3

Geralt smelled the shabby village miles away. Humans, no matter the space they had on offer, created the stench with their infallible ability to destroy their surroundings. Over time Geralt got into the habit of avoiding such places as they were usually tied to all sorts of trouble. And it seemed like this place was no exception

Suddenly the tracks he had been following came to an end. Geralt sighed and reigned in Roach. He had expected this to happen and still it irritated him. What the fuck was that bloody idiot up to?

Pondering his options Geralt looked around. To his left, just out of the thicket, a narrow uneven trail headed for the village. To his right, it vanished into a light forest. “Great,” the witcher mumbled. It was impossible to further track the soft hoof prints on the stony ground. But he already knew which way to go.

Still, he hesitated for a moment. Why would he hide in such a place? What had kept him from covering his tracks? Something was very fishy and Geralt didn’t like it.

Anyways, he spurred on Roach. Passing a few outcast buildings, an old decrepit barn and a small herbalist’s cottage along the way Geralt made for the village. It wasn’t a big settlement: a few wooden houses, the alderman’s clearly distinguished from the others. And of course, there was an inn. The modest horse shelter in front of it caught Geralt’s attention. A fine black horse was contentedly feeding on hay there and the witcher immediately recognized the Kaedweni bred steed.

He stopped in front of the inn and tied Roach to the shelter. The other horse, clearly trained to avoid a stranger’s touch, did not twitch under Geralt’s caress. Instead he snorted and nudged Geralt’s torso. The witcher couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “It’s good to see you, Scorpion” he whispered and pulled a sugar cube out of his pocket. Roach jealously stomped her front hoof and Geralt turned to treat her just as well. Then he headed for the inn’s entrance.

The main room was pretty dark, only a few tables fitting into the space. Some drunkards were assembled around one of them and from their babbling Geralt gathered that they must have spent a fair amount of time in that inn today.

It took them a few moments to become aware of Geralt, but when they did, their noisy chatter fell silent. The innkeeper however was not impressed by the witcher’s presence. At least he didn’t let it show “Good day to you sir”, he greeted Geralt “What can my humble establishment do for yet another one of your kind?” “Another one?” Geralt asked curiously and the innkeeper nodded towards the corner on his right. A dark figure, covered in a long dirty cloak sat separately at a small table, two long and thin packages lying next to him. Geralt smiled and the innkeeper’s façade started to crumble at this sight.

In the same instant the dark figure got up and pushed back the hood. A face, disfigured yet cordially smiling, appeared underneath. Eskel.

“Glad to see you, Wolf!“ The other witcher hugged Geralt tightly. The embrace was short, brotherly, but like music, there was more to it. It was I missed you just as well as good to have you back. And it lasted a few seconds too long adding an unspoken feeling that lingered between them.

They sat down at the small table in the shady corner and started a casual conversation. After a proper meal their merry chatter grew more serious and finally Geralt asked Eskel what he was actually doing here. Geralt carefully withheld the fact that he had tracked him. Very easily at that. In fact, so easily that Geralt had initially suspected a serious issue, since Eskel had obviously paid no attention to covering his tracks.

“Had a pretty nasty contract down in Lyria. Thought I’d better head for Kaedwen early this year. Also, this fucking weather…” he nodded toward the dirty window and suddenly went silent.

Immediately sensing Eskel’s discomfort Geralt changed the topic. It was no use asking a witcher about things he had encountered on the Path and was not yet willing to talk about. Whatever happened to him sure had been unpleasant but apparently Eskel was out of danger and Geralt decided not to inquire any further.

They slowly found their way back to less serious topics, finally joking about old stories and anecdotes. By then the atmosphere of the inn had somewhat changed. The drunkards had left and only the innkeeper remained behind the bar. While he had appeared rather brave at Geralt’s arrival, he didn’t look anything like it by now. He was frantically cleaning tankards and seemed visibly distressed.

Eskel had already caught on to it and in an instant changed the way he talked to Geralt. “I guess we have a job for Vesemir here” he muttered. It took Geralt a few seconds to understand the code phrase as he hadn’t heard it in quite some time. Focusing on his sharpened senses he also became aware of the light footsteps quickly approaching the inn. “I guess we’ll have a visitor soon”, he growled.

Suddenly the innkeeper vanished into the backroom. The witchers perceived a knock on a wooden door, the timid opening of the same and muffled voices. The man who had approached the inn tried to reach the bar. But the innkeeper didn’t let him through, insistently whispering. “She was my daughter!”, the intruder shouted at him. Eventually the innkeeper lost his patience: “Mihal, you won’t bring her back to life!” “Out of my way, old man!”

Next, they heard a thud and a stubby man with a red face burst into the room. He came running to the witchers and Eskel already raised his hand to cast a sign as the man threw himself to the ground.

“Master witchers, I need your help” he cried desperately and Eskel immediately lowered his hand. “Then speak!” Geralt commanded, adding a bit more emphasis to it than intended.

“There is a monster in the mountains! A flying dragon! It haunts our village and a week ago,” he started sobbing uncontrollably, “it killed my daughter! Please, I will pay you with all I have left. But bring justice to my little girl!”

While the man was regaining his self-control, the innkeeper returned to his place behind the bar. He was pressing a wet cloth to his head and an endless stream of curses left his mouth. “That bloody witch! The wench summoned the demon! We should have burned her!”

“I’ve heard enough” Geralt spat out and shot the innkeeper an irritated glance. He fell silent immediately. “But he’s telling the truth master witcher!”, the red-faced man interfered. By now he was on his feet again, but silent tears were still running over his cheeks. “The damn wench cursed us! She lured the monster into our village! There was a dead sheep and some smelly grasses.”

Eskel shot Geralt a glace. A dead sheep stuffed with buckthorn? The ideal bait for a griffin! Whatever was going on here, somebody really meant to attract a monster!

“Are there still any traces of the bait left?”, Eskel asked calmly. The innkeeper nodded and answered grimly. “The beast turned its back on it as it saw Mihal’s daughter hiding underneath the shack nearby. The minute Mihal ran to her rescue the beast grabbed her with its huge claws and tore her apart. I beg you, please kill that monster for us.”

Still fighting his tears Mihal added: “The attack happened at the old barn on the trail that comes in from the south.”

“I think I know where it is”, Geralt muttered. He got up, Eskel following a moment later. “We will check the area. Meanwhile stay indoors if possible!”

When they rode through the darkness next to each other a familiar feeling welled up in Geralt’s heart. It reminded him of the stolen nights they had spent in the forests of Kaer Morhen, their first attempt to try their newly acquired abilities. It also painfully reminded him of when they had overcome the fear of punishment for walking the Path together. The time they spent in each other’s arms becoming the greatest liability in their lives so far. Eventually the light feeling changed into something heavy and Geralt tried to stop his reverie.

“What’s going on Geralt?” Eskel asked. He was comfortably sitting on Scorpion’s back and seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Did they teach you mindreading at Ban Ard?”, Geralt replied half smiling, trying hard not to let show even more of the things that came to his mind. “Unfortunately, not”, Eskel laughed, “but I still know you well.”

You bloody well do Geralt thought, but he didn’t reply. The bond they had regained over the past few winters was too precious to be tested on silly thoughts.

Eventually they arrived at the barn. The grass around it was grown high and it seemed like the decrepit building hadn’t been in use for years. A crooked sign hung in front of it saying “Do not enter” in the common language.

They examined the surroundings in the pale moonlight, and within a short time they came upon the odour trail of the monster bait. They found some of the remains of a herb stuffed sheep in the thicket nearby and it was pretty clear that the bait had been torn apart by gigantic claws. The sheep had indeed been stuffed with Buckthorn, but there was another herb too. Eskel fished some off it from a tree and identified it as beggartick blossoms. It was a rare herb, and it was usually used to refine fisstech. A strange choice to put into a bait, as it was far more use to the owner when sold to some shady individual for a good price.

“What do you think, Geralt? Beggartick is a weird choice for a bait! Something’s wrong here...”

“Guess we have to have a word with the herbalist. And we should examine the body if they haven’t buried it yet.” The body of a child - disfigured by a dragonid.

“I can take care of the examination”, Eskel said softly. Geralt nodded and was silently thankful that Eskel spared him the horrible sight of a child that could have just as well died from a Witcher’s trial.

After a short discussion they separated and Eskel rode back into the village to find Mihal and his daughter’s corpse. Geralt instead stayed at the abandoned barn and started a search for beggartick in a more extensive radius. One hour after sunrise he admitted defeat and carried on to the more important task that he was responsible for. On Roach’s back he returned to the stony trail that ultimately lead to the village and stopped in front of the herbalist’s cottage.

There was a small garden around it, no curious herbs, but practical ones like fool’s parsley, ribleaf and celandine. Geralt dismounted and knocked at the shuttered door. At first there was no reply but as he knocked a second time a woman answered. “What the hell do you want? Leave me be!”, she frantically shouted.

It took Geralt some time to convince her to let him in, but finally the herbalist opened the door. As he started his inquiries on the buckthorn, she grew impatient, irritated even and tried hard to avoid the topic. But Geralt kept pushing and finally she admitted having stuffed a dead sheep with buckthorn from a nearby lake. It was intended to scare the local folk as they had accused her of witchcraft when she had started a fight with a band of fisstech dealers. She finally wanted to scare them, force them to show some respect. And then it all went awfully wrong. What she had thought to be an old wives’ tale was truly a powerful means to attract monsters. The incident with the small girl was neither planned nor foreseen. Mihal’s daughter had been playing not far from the place where the herbalist had put up the sheep and suddenly a dragon had aimed at the bait. But as it had made out the girl, it had chased her instead and killed her in an instant.

“And you’re sure it was a dragon?” Geralt asked. The herbalist gave a long but vague answer and Geralt made a mental note to discuss the possible dragonids in the area with Eskel.

When she finished the description of the monster, she added some useful information though. She had seen where the monster had come from and returned to – the mountains north of the village – and by her description Geralt was sure to find the monster’s lair there.

“And what about the Beggartick?”, Geralt reminded her after she had finished her story. She sighed and said “You see, I was really tired of this shit. All those people, they come to me for help, for, I don’t know, a magic cure, and in the same breath they call me a witch for all the things they don’t understand. Jacub’s gang is spreading rumors and now half the village would burn me if the chance arises. I simply became furious and saw my chance for revenge!”

Geralt left the herbalist after she had finally admitted the unintended murder of the girl. There was not much to say about her situation and Geralt wondered if leaving the village would change it for the better.

Eskel was already waiting for him at the inn and updated him on his finding about the corpse. In fact there was nothing new about it. Big claws, a bird’s beak and a preference for internal organs were not much to go on.

The witchers finally decided to follow the herbalist’s advice and set out for the mountains. They stuck to the path leading north and by the end of the day they had climbed a rugged hill. Beneath the shoulder of a rock they found a good spot to make camp and they decided to give both the horses and themselves a rest. For some time, they indulged in food and conversation and eagerly discussed their speculations about the monster.

When the night grew colder and the fire between them turned into an appreciated source of heat Eskel pulled out a bottle from his saddlebag. It was a fine distillate of White Gull and Geralt anticipated there was another long night ahead of them.

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

By now they were far from the amount of hooch a human could manage. Their pupils were blown wide and they relied upon their joint forces should the wilderness around them turn hostile.

“Seriously, were did you get this?” Geralt asked and raised the bottle he was holding. An appreciative gesture that made Eskel laugh.

“Won’t tell you Wolf”, he answered mysteriously and fondly looked at Geralt.

He in turn smiled mischievously and lent back against the rock. Maybe Geralt would come back on this later, there must be a good story behind it. But talking of a good story…

“Well, what about your route then? Came across your track. Twice. You’re not trying to cover it up these days?” Geralt said, a teasing smile still on his lips.

Eskel hiccupped silently. It was hard to tell where the melancholic look on his face suddenly came from. Up next, he sighed and gently rubbed his scar. “Stop this, Geralt.”

Even though Geralt didn’t get to the bottom of it, he again felt Eskel’s displeasure. There was no way around it and suddenly it took up the room between them.

“I don’t understand…”

“I see.” Eskel deadpanned and took another gulp from the bottle. Then he went silent. After some time, he stared up into the starry sky. “What do you think the Path would be like if there were different rules?”

“Well, wouldn’t make it any easier, would it?”, Geralt slurred. Through his blurred vision he tried to observe Eskel. His dark hair, the amber eyes, that damn old scar.

“What’s this all about, huh?”

Suddenly irritated, Eskel got up. His movement seemed a little too fast for his current state and his unsteady footing additionally attested to that.

“Sorry Geralt, but this”, he vaguely gestured back and forth between Geralt and the empty bottles that had started to pile up “is giving me a headache. Good night.” His smile looked crooked and Geralt was reminded of the several times Eskel had overindulged.

When he made it to his bedroll a few minutes later, the awkward smile would not leave him though. In his dreams it turned into an evil grin, a mocking laugh, scorning the warm little feeling that had crept into his heart again this evening.

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

“Geralt?”

An ungloved hand touched Geralt’s shoulder. The touch was accompanied by a soft tingle and the scent of petrichor and leather. This stilled the white haired witcher’s immediate reaction, as he concluded that the hand did not belong to an enemy.

Geralt growled as he sat up and was pretty astonished to see a well-rested, even cheerful Eskel finishing the preparations for a sparse breakfast. Suddenly the warm feeling from yesterday evening returned.

Eskel laughed, cordially and kind this time, and handed him a mug. It contained some kind of herbal tea.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” he smiled.

Geralt tried to smile back, but yesterday’s white gull still made him hurt. With a questioning look he muttered: “How did you…?”

Taking advantage of Geralt’s confusion Eskel put on his lecturer face and cited: “When there is the risk of intoxication, the witcher has to retreat for meditation.”

“Seriously, in your state?”, Geralt laughed in disbelief.

“Just drink your tea, Wolf!”, Eskel replied softly and started to dismantle their little camp. It was not until Geralt’s headache had ceased that he realized that Eskel must have put something into the tea.

“You bastard, it’s Wives’ Tears, right?” “Let’s rather stick to the meditation story”, Eskel grinned and mounted his horse.

They set out for the high plateau that reared up in the distance. Whatever dragonid was waiting for them it would certainly have its lair in great heights. But great heights came with difficult paths and after hours of traveling Eskel and Geralt eventually decided to leave behind Roach and Scorpion.

Not long after they had dismounted, Geralt discovered a piece of sheepskin in the bushes. It strongly smelled of buckthorn, but as it had been a week since the dragonid incident there was no scent left in the air to track. Still, both Geralt and Eskel grew tense. They were closing in on the monster.

They continued their ascent and finally reached a small trail that lead up to the plateau. By then they walked in silence - alert and ready to fight. Geralt didn’t like the way they approached the monster. The dragonid would most likely attack from above and additionally their lack of knowledge about its hiding place put them at a disadvantage. But that was a witcher’s everyday business, right?

Suddenly Eskel signaled Geralt to stop. He dodged and pressed against the stone wall. Geralt immediately mimicked his movements.

Above them a gigantic griffin raised itself into the air. Its wide-spread wings shimmered red and blue and the gigantic claws on both wings and feet flashed in the daylight.

Eskel spat some dwarfish curses and the witchers made for the last few steps on the trail. The griffin turned in midair and aimed for them. Eskel only just reached the plateau as the monstrous beast dived over them. It didn’t attack, the dive was simply intended as a warning.

“Damn it”, Geralt cursed and drew his silver sword. How were they supposed to kill such a majestic creature? For a split second he locked eyes with Eskel.

Are you ready?

As the griffin returned Eskel certainly was. He struck it with a blow of Aard and the griffin tumbled to the ground. Geralt lunged at it and dealt a blow to its wing. The griffin reared up and Geralt could jump back just in time. As the griffin took off it tried to grab Eskel who parried the attack with a furious blast of Igni. The immense creature emitted an ear-piercing cry as it withdrew into the sky.

Eskel cursed again but he underestimated the griffin. Instead of fleeing, it turned around and dived down toward the plateau. This time focusing on Eskel only.

Something in Geralt’s brain snapped and he took a leap forward. He barely managed to shove the other witcher aside. In a split second he had to combine this protective move with the Aard sign. Geralt’s magic wasn’t as powerful as Eskel’s but it was enough to knock the griffin off its balance.

Don’t you dare.

Suddenly furious, he turned on the griffin. His movements were fast and flawless, accurate and cold. Pirouetting away under the griffin’s assaults he managed to injure it on a delicate spot just beneath its collarbone.

But then there was a single movement that slipped Geralt’s attention. The griffin tried to strike him with its right wing and when Geralt launched into a counterattack, the griffin started to take flight and grabbed him.

Geralt’s cry mingled with the griffin’s screams as Eskel pierced the beast’s left wing with his sword. The griffin let go of Geralt and turned on Eskel again. It screeched at him and Eskel ruthlessly smashed an Ard sign against it. This time it knocked over the beast and Eskel didn’t waste a second. He darted at the griffin and before it was able to move again, he thrust the silver sword into its heart.

Panting heavily, he jumped off the dead body and ran towards Geralt. The white wolf lay on the ground, hunched over, his face contorted in pain. A long bloody gash gaped over his stomach.

Eskel fell on his knees and in a first impulse he pressed his hands against the ferocious wound. At the touch Geralt screamed in pain. From then on, Eskel couldn’t remember the chronological order of events. At some point he realized that his hands were aching as he had conducted healing magic for Melitele knows how long. Next to him lay an empty vial of Swallow - some of its contents were poured over the wound and the rest of it had hopefully found its way down Geralt’s throat.

As the bleeding ceased, Eskel carefully tried to take off the pieces of armour and clothing that still covered it and he skillfully managed a makeshift dressing of the wound.

Geralt made a few muffled noises, but his heartbeat had become steady again. “Hey Wolf, can you hear me?”, Eskel asked softly. Geralt grunted and Eskel went on, “I have to get the horses – you’ll need stitches when the magic wears off and I don’t have any equipment here.”

“Hold on to me!”, Eskel continued and ever so carefully lifted the other witcher, not actually relying on Geralt’s cooperation. He laid him down under the shelter of a small rock and tried to make him comfortable with his cloak. Then Eskel bent over him and slipped his last vial of Swallow into his hands. “I’ll be right back. Stay safe, Wolf”, he whispered and turned around before Geralt could see how worried he actually was.

Searching the horses took Eskel longer than expected and when he finally managed to force Scorpion and Roach up the uneven trail, it was already getting dark. He was instantly back at Geralt’s side and sighed in relief as he realized that nothing had happened in his absence.

After Eskel had unpacked their bedrolls and prepared a small fire, he fished out his equipment from Scorpion’s saddlebags and got ready to tend to Geralt’s wound properly. He worked in silence, expert and precise, but the memories that were tied to patching Geralt up tormented him. When he finally finished, he saw that Geralt’s witcher medallion was twisted around and reached over to set it right again.

Then he saw the plain stone framed on the reverse of the medallion. It showed a hastily carved rune of Quen. Eskel remembered it all too well. He had crafted it for Geralt as some kind of protection for his first year on the Path. The older witchers had punished him for “excessive attachment” to somebody else, but the stone still remained. Eskel did not know that Geralt had kept it all along the way through everything that had happened to them.

“You kept it after all those years?”, he stammered, trying hard not to show any of the feelings he had buried deep inside, ever since their emotional attachment had turned into a problem.

“Always”, Geralt said slowly and reached for Eskel’s hand.

The two witcher had never been good with words and so Eskel just cherished the moment. Not long afterwards Geralt fell asleep and Eskel eventually decided to rest a bit too.

He would not let go of Geralt’s hand though. Instead he knelt down next to him and sunk into a light meditation. When Vesemir had taught them how to meditate they had also started like this – with touch as their only focus.

It was still dark when Eskel opened his eyes again. The fire had nearly burned down and Eskel added some more wood to it. In the meantime, Geralt turned and made an uneasy sound.

“Are you awake, Geralt?”

Geralt only groaned, but he already tried to sit up as well as possible.

“You asked me why I didn’t cover my tracks…”, Eskel took a deep breath. Somehow the words came to him and he knew if he didn’t say them right now, he probably never would. “I missed you. Badly. There were rumours you were in Daevon, so I rode up to Kaedwen hoping to catch up with you. There was a day where I felt like I had crossed your path and from there I stopped covering my tracks. I was hoping you’d find me. Well, you eventually did. But then some foglets came first and followed me for days. It was constantly raining and I didn’t want to fight them until I knew how many of them there were. But they ambushed me and I ended up in that damn village. I am glad you found me, Geralt. I just missed you so much.”

Carefully he squeezed Geralt’s hand. Geralt reciprocated and suddenly he softly pulled Eskel closer.

“You damn fool”, he said slowly. “I missed you too, you know?” Then he pressed a chaste kiss on Eskel’s lips.

The soft touch was neither a confession nor a vow. It felt like a permission – a permission to explore unspoken feelings and experience closeness in a new way. And that was it. Plain and simple.

#the witcher secret santa #thewitchersecretsanta #ohciq #gifts 2020 #witcher fic #geralt #eskel #geralt x eskel #gereskel #eskralt #geralt/eskel #or whatever the tag is these days ;)#aaaahhh i can't believe this is happening #my first fic in english❤#what do you think?#😊

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tt205 · 4 years

Text

You have a crush on WANG?![1/?]

WANG YIBO × READER HAPPY POTTER AU!

Request: could you do Yibo x You au? The houses don't matter , something cliche like "yibo cool guy and sweet girl " where yibo realizes he really likes her , something like that . [ I dont have your permission to put your name here but if you want me to I will upload your name in another post for the credits ]

WARNINGS: none just my bad English and maybe a kiss or two nothing too much .. pretty fluffy pretty cute ~ somewhat relatable I could say

Classmates to lovers

It was your 6th year in Hogwarts when you first started realizing your feelings for Wang Yibo , a young witcher from Slytherin.

You always did think of him as someone cute and lovable , but his somehow frigid image made you keep your feelings low for him .

You shared a couple of classes together and even thought he'd never talked to you , apart from greeting you , you had a familiarity among each other.

Two weeks have passed since the day you first threw your eyes on him in a different way & now you can't take him out of your mind.

Staring at his handsome face made your heart skipping a beat .

You rested your head on your right hand looking towards him without shame . "Ahh" you sighed making Hermione shake you out of your lovey-dovey dreamland

" What on the bloody hell are you doing y/n? Stop staring on Wang and pay attention to the lesson !" She half whispered half yelled to you making professor Snape glare at you two .

You bowed your head apologizing as you straightened in your seat, gaining your composure.

------------->

Soon enough the bell rang and the next second you where out of the boring classroom.

Looking down to your things you realized you left your book back

"Stay here for a moment Mione I'm heading back in , I'll be quick " you told her before increasing your pace through the hallways.

Not paying attention to your surroundings you entered the door only to come in contact with a strong torso.

You looked upwords to the person in front of you only to meet with the eyes of your heart shaker Wang Yibo.

"Are you ok ? " he asked , lowering his head to your height

"I'm so sorry , I'll be careful next time" you bowed your head avoiding his eyes , your cheeks turning a deep shade of red as you made your way in grabbing your book and running your way out .

You rushed to the garden , meeting Hermione which was talking with Draco and Harry.

"You wont believe what happened!" You shouted to them , your breath unstable from all the running.

The three of them turned to you giving you a knowledgeable look while opening their 'circle' for you to enter .

You sat there hiding your head in your hands the embarrassing moment flashing in your head again and again .

"I bumped onto Wang Yibo" you said in a low tone regretting the moment you left your book in class

" What's the big deal with that Y/n ?" Harry asked concerned " he looks like a good guy " he continued.

"She has a crush on him you dumbo!" Hermione slapped him on the shoulder.

Draco's eye widened "you like WANG YIBO?" he screamed making Mione shut his mouth with a quick spell .

'Mmmmmm!' Draco complained but no one pitied him ... all of sudden you heard quick footsteps coming to your spot and turning around you saw Ron with a stuffed mouth full of candies and a bag full of them in one hand too.

"SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON WANG Y/N" he asked , some syllables muffled in between .

"Where did you hear that Ron Weasley?" You asked panicking ,

"Em .. I guess the whole school knows is it now thanks to this screaming crackhead" he answered pointing to Draco .

" MALFOY IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS AND FEED YOU TO A DRAGON !" you shouted falling back to the floor not caring about how dusty your cloak will be after this .

----------------->

Days passed by with you skipping the classes you had with Yibo , too embarrassed to meet him now that half and more of the students number knew your feelings towards him .

Some of the Slytherin's members teased you about it at first but Draco was there to cut it short .. it was the least he could do as an apology .

You were so frustrated and sad you didn't have the energy to even go have breakfast , just attending some classes , studying and then straight to sleep .

Someone would say that this wasn't a big deal but having your parents working at the ministry of magic and his been death eaters , it wasn't ideal .. if your parents knew about your feelings towards him you were dead .

Today is Saturday < a good day to go have a butter beer > said Hermione.

You didn't want to go there too tired to even pick up your wand but they dragged you there .

And here you are sitting in one of the 'Three Brooms ' table with your stupid friends in each side of yours .

Half an hour has passed since you arrived here and the 5 of you have ate a bunch of things while chatting about the week that passed and other random information. You feel someone behind you and at the same time Draco sits up to greet him .

"Hey Wang what's up?" He asks and your blood freezes. You grab Hermione's hand under the table and she gives you a reassuring smile , motioning for you to greed him and that's what you do .

Yibo shakes your hand before hugging you slightly "may I have a brief moment with you y/n?" He whispers in your ear and he is close , the smell of his cologne feeling your lungs making you lightheaded along with a sweet smile he gives you .

You nod your head moving off your seat and smoothing your clothes on the go , breath stuck in your throat.

He moves a hand behind your lower back moving you in the hallway that leads in the toilets. "I -i " he begins but cuts himself in between something bothering him "Would you like ehm- would you like to go on a date with me ?"

He asks his voice cracking a little in the middle of the sentence, ears blushing a bit as he moves a hand on the back of his neck rubbing the area from the tension .

Your eyes widen first but you are quick to hide your surprise with a brief " yes " as an answer taking him by surprise too "really?" He asks and you repeat your words only to be awarded by another smile of his .

------------->

Almost a week passed since then and today came along with a date that you could only dream of .

You can't even believe that you are sitting in front of him , eyes filled with joy and excitement, the rustic decor of Madam Puddifoot's cafe adding to the romance overwhelmed moment .

He is holding your hand and your heart can't stop skipping beats at the sight of him .

You know it's wrong to be with him but still you like him .

Laughter and smiles is filling your time together but both of you know you have to return back in Hogwarts.

You will have to take the last carriage to return back and you dont have much time .

He opens the door for you and you step out of the small shop leaving back its warmth .

Cold air hits your face the next second and you close your eyes sifting more in your long thick coat moving your hands in your pockets in an attempt to keep them warm .

The sky is paint in the darkest shade of blue signaling that you must hurry up .

You reach for Yibo but he is quicker moving his arms around your shoulders keeping you close .

A soft kiss on top of your head is all it takes to move the negative thoughts off your head , walking through the snow covered streets of Hogsmaede.

---------->

The way back seems long as your eyes feel heavier leaning onto Yibo's shoulder.

The carriage's interior is cold , the snow outside making the perfect fairytale scene.

You feel Yibo's hand touching yours an taking it in his grasp.

You feel his eyes on you and you look up meeting them , the look peaceful.

He suddenly leans closer and your lips momentarily touch .

You kiss back moving your body closer to his , he moves a hand behind your neck keeping you still and the whole room seems spinning as the temperature rises .

Both of your eyes are closed , lips occupied but you feel like talking through the kiss .

After a good moment you both pull back regaining your breaths and both of you are starring in each others eyes again.

"I know that this is rushed to ask and may seem childish but , will you be my girlfriend? " he begins and you blush hard " I've been thinking about asking you out months ago but j was afraid of been rejected.. knowing that you have feelings for me -thanks to Draco- was the thing that motivated me . If you think I'm rush--"

" I do ! I do wanna be your girlfriend" you rushed it out in one breath giggling in the end.

"if you regret something I can wait I promise!" He continues getting shy after a moment or so ..

"Dont make me take my words back !" You whisper in his ear , only to be drugged in a tight hug .

" I can't say I love you yet cause it's really rushed and both of us know it , but what I can say for sure is that I've never liked someone more like you y/n ... give me some time and I'll love you the same way " he adds kissing your hand and looking at you with those piercing eyes of his that can melt the coldest heart , and can tame the most untamed soul ~~~

#uniq wang yibo #wang yibo #harry potter au #fluff imagine #x reader #no gender #romance

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thedailyimagines · 4 years

Text

Imagine being Raven’s former boyfriend and coming back from the dead, now partnered with Deathstroke.

Anon requested: “Hello, I’m glad you’re back (: . If it’s no trouble may I request a Raven(DC) x Male Reader? Reader is dick Grayson/Nightwing brother and once was a former member of the titans and lover of Raven but was presumed dead after a horrible accident in mission. Maybe he comes back and is now partnered with deathstroke and has a grudge against the titans but later on is reminded of old memories and returns to Raven and they get together again and returns to the Titans.”

Decided to go with DC animated for this one. The imagine is a little different from the request, but I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~

There was so much going on at once. Everything was blurry. He could see people around him but not their faces.

“Y/n!” The sound of his name being called brought his attention to someone, their face smudged like a ruined picture. All he could see was that they had a cloak and hood.

“No!” Looking down, y/n saw a large red stain on his torso. Had something happened? He couldn’t focus on that, there were people who needed him now.

The world went sideways, there was a bright light, a loud noise like a roar, and then—

—y/n woke up with a jolt, sitting up quickly and looking around.

The room was dimly lit and outside you could see the lights of passing cars. There was no fighting, no screams, no blurry faces. A quick glance in the mirror on the wall reflected y/n’s face, skin damp with sweat and hair a ruffled mess.

The dream was the same one y/n had been having for two years since he woke up. There was always fighting, a shout, and then y/n woke up. Maybe it had something to do with his forgotten past.

A sharp knock on his door called y/n’s attention away from his thoughts. Grabbing his knife, y/n crept to the door and opened it slowly.

“L/n.” Recognizing the voice, y/n lowered the knife and opened the door all the way. In the hall of the abandoned apartment stood an old man with an eyepatch.

Slade Wilson was the first person y/n saw when he woke up, and Slade had said y/n was his apprentice. It rubbed y/n wrong but he went with it, seeing as his other option was staying in custody of the hospital (they figured he was around fifteen or sixteen years old).

“What.” Slade ignored the boy’s attitude and tossed a packet of paper at y/n.

“Job for you. Pack your bags and head to Jump City.”

<—>

“You don’t have to perform if you don’t want to, y/n.” Little y/n bounced up and down, trying to make himself seem eager to the woman in front of him. Her face wasn’t clear but y/n felt safe around her, like she was someone important to him.

“I want to! If Dick can do it, I can too!” A man came over and placed a hand on y/n’s shoulder.

“Y/n, how about you stay with the lion tamer for now? And next time you can come with us?” Y/n pouted, but nodded in agreement.

“Fine...” The three walked out, and y/n hung back with the lion tamer. Maybe it was for the best, he was still unsteady with the trapeze.

Then the trapeze rope snapped, the crowd screamed, and a shocked y/n screamed for—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of the alarm y/n had set jolted him from his dream. That was a new dream. Did he know the people from it? Who was Dick? Was it an insult towards someone?

“What the hell is going on?” Shaking his head, y/n headed to the bathroom of the hideout Slade had sent him to and splashed water in his face. Today was the day he sprung the trap for the group his employers wanted gone. It was a group of vigilantes commonly known as the Teen Titans, the name setting off a flicker of recognition in y/n’s mind.

It wasn’t important now, y/n mused, as he gathered everything he needed for the trap. His various knives, a small wrist firearm, a retractable bo staff, and one sword that was a gift from Slade.

Three hours later found y/n in a warehouse, waiting for his targets to walk in. Right on cue, a group walked (or in some cases, flew) in the front door, setting off the smoke trap. Y/n jumped down from his perch, the man he had been aiming his sword at barely moving in time.

“Who are you?” Y/n, dressed in his black and orange suit, just twirled his sword like a baton.

“The person hired to get rid of you.” Y/n activated the robots Slade had sent with him, a so-called ‘gift’ from their employer. The yellow and black robots were high tech and skilled in various forms of combat.

“Titans, Go!” The group ran towards y/n and the bots; y/n pulled his sword from its sheath. The leader of the group, an older man in a black and blue suit, went head on with y/n.

“Azarath Metrion Zinthos!” A girl about y/n’s age destroyed several robots at once. Y/n was impressed, he had never seen something like it before. A voice in the back of his head claimed he had seen it before.

“Cute trick, my turn.” Y/n threw a knife towards the cloaked girl. She moved to the side to dodge and very nearly missed being beheaded by y/n’s sword.

So far, things were not going in y/n’s favor. The robots were completely destroyed and now the group was converging on him. Was there one missing?

“Damian, wait!” Y/n turned just in time to be hit in the face with the hilt of a sword. The mask that y/n wore fell from his face, and silence reigned over the Titans.

“...y/n?” The man in black and blue looked like he had seen a ghost. How did he know y/n’s name? Only Slade knew his name!

The sound of energy charging caused y/n to whip his head around, only to be hit with a blast of blue energy. The pain took a moment to register, but when it did it hit y/n like a freight train.

The last thing y/n heard before he passed out was yelling.

“Beetle, what the hell!

“Sorry! The scarab is still on high threat mode!”

<—>

“Get up y/n. You need to learn this if you’re going to go on patrol.” Y/n huffed and stood back up, dusting off his clothes.

“Not everyone has your skills, birdbrain.”

“Hey!” A man stepped in, having been watching both boys train.

“That’s enough boys. Alfred has dinner ready, go wash up and get some food.” The black haired boy ran off to wash up, leaving y/n and the man behind.

“...” The man knelt down on one knee and put a hand on y/n’s shoulder. It was quickly shrugged off.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“I’m not as good as Dick. I can’t even do flips right!”

“Y/n, you only just started. And Dick has experience on his side. Just give it time.” Y/n nodded, his face still showing his disappointment. “Come on. I think we can beat your brother to the kitchen.”

“—we can’t just leave him like this.”

“I know that Kori! But you saw him, he was trying to kill us. Y/n would have never done that before. Especially to Raven; he nearly took her head off!” Raven...why did that name sound so familiar to y/n? Like something he knew a long time ago.

“It’s been almost two years Dick. A lot can happen in that time.” There was that name again. Was the man the same person from y/n’s dreams?

There was only one way to find out.

“...Who the hell are you people?” The two jumped and turned towards y/n in surprise. It was the green eyed woman who spoke first.

“Y/n, do you really not know who we are?”

“If I knew you I would have called you by your name.”

“Y/n, my name is Dick Grayson. You’re my little brother.”

“I don’t have a family. I only have my mentor, Slade”

There was a knock at the door, and Kori went to go answer it. There was a muffled argument that slowly became louder.

“Raven wait—” The girl who had been wearing a cloak entered the room, now dressed in civilian clothes.

“Y/n.” His name sounded so familiar coming from her, like a lifetime ago she had known him.

“Do I know you?” The teen frowned slightly.

“It’s me, y/n. It’s Raven. We used to be...we were close.” He shook his head. How dumb did these people think he was?

“Listen, I’m gonna need a lot more than words to prove what you and anyone else is saying about me.”

“I have proof. And I’m sure Dick has some too.” Raven pulled out a photo from her pocket.

Y/n almost didn’t believe what he saw; it was him, but he was younger. In the picture were several other people (some who were in the group y/n had been fighting) including Raven, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“...I don’t understand.” Raven placed a hand on his shoulder, the gesture almost familiar to y/n.

“Whatever Slade told you was a lie, y/n. You were a part of our team, our family.” He shrugged the hand off and crossed his arms.

“Then why am I with Slade? Him coming to claim me from the hospital is my earliest memory and that was two years ago. I think I would remember if I died.”

“It really isn’t a good idea to tell him—” Y/n cut Dick off before he could finish his sentence.

“Just tell me. I don’t like secrets.” There was silence all around, then Kori spoke.

“Y/n, you died.”

“...What?”

“Y/n!” The cloaked figure was calling his name, trying to get him to listen—

“It was on a mission. It wasn’t going well and we were waiting for our ride out. You and Raven were covering our backs when you were injured.” Y/n’s head started throbbing, like the pain was trying to get him to stop remembering.

The red stain on his shirt spread out—

“There was an explosion. We couldn’t get to you in time.” The pain in his head was getting worse, going from a dull ache to a sharp stabbing sensation.

A bright light, a roar—

“I need to leave.” Y/n stood up and pushed his way past the three. Outside the room were the others from earlier.

“Y/n wait!” He didn’t know how he found his way out, but as soon as y/n did he headed straight towards the city.

He needed to have a talk with his ‘mentor’.

<—>

The Titans followed y/n to an abandoned apartment building. They didn’t find y/n inside, but they did find Slade in what looked to be an old ballroom—now converted to a weapons room. Slade was in the middle of it. If he was surprised that the Titans were here, he wasn’t showing it.

“Not that I don’t enjoy guests—I don’t, by the way—but what the hell are you doing here?”

“Where’s y/n?”

“Huh, so you figured out the brat was alive. I guess some secrets can’t stay safe.” Dick stepped forward, brandishing his escrima sticks threateningly.

“What did you do to him, Slade?” Slade fingered the handle of his blade but didn’t unsheathe it.

“Easy; took him from the explosion site, paid someone to erase his memories, and trained him to be a weapon. He’s better than you could have ever been.” Dick tensed up and Kori put a hand on his shoulder. He took a breathe and calmed himself down.

“You hurt my brother Slade. Be glad I’m willing to take you in with broken bones rather than in a body bag.” Slade laughed the comment off.

“Do you really—shit!” Slade jerked to the right as a figure descended from the shadows wielding a sword. Y/n’s sword glanced off of Slade’s armor. Had Slade not moved in time, he would have lost his arm. “What are you doing you little bastard?!?!”

“You lied to me Slade! You kept me from my family, my friends!” Y/n charged at Slade again, the old man dodging and pulling out his sword.

“You’d be a nobody without me! You were always stuck in your mentor or your brother’s shadow! Can you tell me this wasn’t better—not being outshone by them constantly?” Y/n just let out a scream and attacked more viciously.

“I’m going to kill you!” The Titans unfroze from their shock and raced after the two. By the time they found Slade, y/n was long gone. Slade was badly injured, but he would live.

Police came and the Titans met them with Slade. No one noticed a lone figure perched on the rooftop watching the commotion. Except for one. Raven flew up to the roof and landed beside y/n.

“Y/n, please don’t leave again.” Y/n shook his head.

“I’m not a Titan. I don’t belong with you guys.” Turning away, y/n was about to jump from the rooftop when Raven grabbed his hand tightly.

“Come on y/n, it’s just a store!” Raven grabbed his hand tightly and pulled a grumbling y/n into a store that featured dark colored, stylish clothes.

“At least stay a little while?” Seeing the look on Raven’s face, y/n sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. Just for a few days. But I’m leaving after that.”

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

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