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fanficsforheartandsoul · 1 year

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A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part I

Notes: I found Deglan super attractive when watching the witcher movie so I’m glad that people are interested in him! Thank you for this request! 😊

I also apologize for taking so long for this request (it’s been months I’m so sorry) and making this overly angsty. I get the feeling I can’t write anything else. I apologize if this is not what you expected, maybe I should do a warning tag that I can only write stories with angst. But hey, there’s a happy ending so no worries, right...? xD

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Original Characters, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings

Summary: The life of a witcher is ruled by two things. Coin and monsters. Yet when Y/N looks at his mentor both fade into the background and a third variable enters the picture... But witchers don’t have it easy with love. And Y/N doesn’t seem to be an exception

Word Count: 4,773

Taglist: @thatsequoia

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Note 2: I just realized that you wrote “recently became a witcher” and I totally messed that part up I’m so sorry 0.o I hope you don’t mind the change! Since witchers have a pretty long life span, I decided that their training ends around the age of twenty something. So the reader is an adult (in our terms not the middle ages) when he becomes a full witcher. I invented quite a lot of stuff for this story so the non-canon in the description is really necessary xD

Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Masterlist

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed and is addressed in this story, if you potentially get triggered please do not continue to read!

Additionally, please read the warnings as they change in some parts of the story

Y/N was different from the common folk.

As far as he was aware, not everyone had to pass harsh trials, risk his life with alchemical experiments and turn into a mutant with superhuman abilities, magical powers and the added side-effect of not being able to reproduce.

Aside from those obvious witcher affairs and the whole baggage that came with them, however, there was one more thing that was different about him. It wasn’t something he hated, no, not at all, it just made him lonely.

Loneliness had been part of a witcher’s life for hundreds of years, it was no surprise then that it was also part of Y/N’s. However, unlike others in his school, he had known that feeling since birth. Therefore, he was no stranger to it and it did not bother him up until a certain point in his adult life. But then... Well...

Y/N did not like the idea of visiting the many brothels of the land because he could not find comfort and pleasure there. In fact, they reminded him of his difference. A man like him would most likely never find happiness in those places, much less in another person, and certainly not in a woman.

But before he actually realized that, he had hopes and dreams.

He hoped, and he dreamed, and he loved.

Everything began when he was just a young boy with big dreams in the school of the Wolf. Big dreams that one could shatter easily...

“Damn, how many hours have passed now? I cannot feel my arms anymore!”, cursed Fenri, supporting his hands on his knees to take a breather. Cole checked their surroundings before he lowered his steel sword and sat on one of the meager patches of grass in the courtyard.

The sun shone directly on his face and the keep’s high walls created long shadows on the ground. They had been training for hours now and Deglan had yet to come and tell them to stop.

Their group consisted of 8 boys who had miraculously survived the trials of Grasses and they had been in the school for around 3 years now and therefore knew how shit worked in the school’s keep.

Consequently, it was a normal occurrence for the witcher to leave their training unsupervised, while he checked on the lessons of the younger ones. But despite his absence, he always seemed to sense when they were slacking off.

And that often happened when their younger friend Wendir was with them. The boy was originally part of a younger group but he was the only survivor during the trials of the Grasses and due to his fate, he would often train with them, although he was known to tempt the other boys to take a break. He was unexpectedly lazy for a witcher apprentice.

Yet, this time the boys did not fear Deglan’s wrath because they were accompanied by their friend Y/N, who had finally recovered from his last alchemical experiments.

If Deglan ever discovered their break, the older one would save them from his harsh punishments. They could trust Y/N due to the many experiences they had shared and the times he had saved them selflessly during their trials. Therefore, they rested their sore bodies for a while.

Said youth was currently wiping the sweat from his forehead, although he did not look nearly as exhausted as the rest of them. His breathing was shockingly even for the fact that they had just swung their swords 1000 times at straw puppets.

However, this was not a surprise at all for any of the boys.

Y/N was the oldest among them, he had the most fighting experience and he also underwent the most additional experiments. The scars and muscles on his lean body were proof of that. Y/N's stamina and capabilities were already beyond a child of his age, which gave him quite a few admirers but also rivals.

The blond Fenri followed Y/N's gaze across the courtyard. He was once again staring at Tristan - one of the young witchers who took care of the new brats. He did not know why Y/N seemed to always gaze at the black-haired man with an unreadable expression but it had reached a point where it annoyed him to death. So he opened his gob and said words he would regret for years in the future:

“You know if you continue to stare, someone might start to think you fancy the man.”

Fenri’s comment made the other guys focus on him, their laboured breathing hindered them from asking questions though. Yet Y/N, the person he addressed did not pay him any attention. His yellow eyes did not even move an inch away from Tristan’s form.

“What do you mean?”, asked Cole breathlessly.

“One might think Y/N is in love with Tristan.”

Fenri watched the oldest of their group closely to see any kind of reaction from his words and the corner of his lips twitched when he saw how the h/c haired boy straightened his back and turned towards him, a contemplative expression on his face.

“What’s wrong with that?”, asked Barmin, curiously staring at his friend.

Seven pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly and Fenri had to pause for a second. He did not exactly know how to answer that question but it was not like he was spouting lies. His mother told him when he was younger and still lived with his family. It was just wrong.

“You cannot be in love with a man," he responded confidently. “Men love women, women love men, that is the law of nature. Men loving men is... gross.”

The boys did not look convinced and while he tried to find a better response to why love between two men was wrong, the blond noticed that Y/N focused his attention on their training again, he raised his dull training blade about to swing at one of the straw puppets once more.

Fenri frowned in annoyance. It seemed as if he could never truly rattle the older boy he considered his rival. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. One day he would triumph over the other, whether that would be in a conversation or battle.

Robin and Milan began to argue about his words and their voices got louder and louder now that they had regained their breaths.

“Who said you cannot like another boy? Is it not just love?”

“I have never liked another boy or been liked by one before! So it isn’t natural, it cannot be!”

“That is just because you have a brain the size of mouse shit and a nose like a potato! No one would like you anyways, be it a girl or a boy!”

“Fuck, what did you just say?! You want to fight?”

“As if you’d win against me!”

Their argument turned a few heads of passing witchers and students and Fenri sensed that if he did not stop them soon, they could expect an angry Deglan on their arses at any second.

“Did you fools not listen to the talk of our seniors? They said themselves that we want to fuck broads left and right when we finish all of our experiments! Women NOT men!”

He hoped this argument was enough to silence them. He did not expect his teasing to initiate a fight. And judging by the eyes on his two friends who were at each other’s throats, they had been loud enough to draw attention.

Luckily, they quickly shut their mouths when Cole stared at them disapprovingly. The boy looked somewhat like a scolding mother and it was very effective. Hopefully, they didn’t alert Deglan. Who knew where he was lurking...

The fact that he used rather crude words did not come to his mind until he heard someone clear his throat behind him and based on it, he knew exactly why everyone had turned dead silent and why Y/N had turned around and stared at him - or most likely at Deglan behind him who had mysteriously shown up out of nowhere.

“What a nice discussion you have during your training. Would you like some fucking tea served to it?”

Fenri tensed and did not know if he should turn around or not. Before he could do anything though, Y/N stepped forward with his steel sword. Cole sighed in relief.

“No tea, sir,” was all the boy said when he changed his posture into a defensive stance, sword tip pointing at Deglan. He held his sword firmly in his hand, ready to distract their mentor from his friends like usual.

Had Fenri turned around, he would have seen the glint of amusement in Deglan’s eyes, one that only showed when the h/c haired boy uselessly tried to cover for his friends by challenging the witcher to a fight. Even now he tried it even though he caught them red-handed while they slacked off.

Deglan and everyone else knew Y/N would always lose - the fool himself knew - he was just a brat after all, but Deglan found it amusing that the boy tried again and again. His desperate attempts of creating a diversion amused him greatly.

The witcher saw through it every time, yet he never punished the boy, nor his friends too harshly.

Deglan found Y/N’s protective spirit commendable and it impressed him every time how fast he came up with new fighting tactics. Furthermore, the injuries that the boy sustained in each fight were probably punishment enough.

“Ready for round 24? Or is it 25?” he asked the h/c haired youth while rolling his left shoulder with a subtle smile.

“Actually it’s 27," Y/N replied, and Deglan hummed. The witcher glanced at the sword in his hands and grinned.

“I think my fists are enough for today.”

Y/N frowned. After their seventeenth fight, the witcher had begun to use his sword, so why...?

His eyes took in his surroundings and he realized that the people in the courtyard, the young witchers, the new candidates and their potential mentors, all were now watching them, even Tristan.

Automatically Y/N’s heart began to pound faster. His gaze lingered on the black-haired witcher and when something moved in the periphery of his vision, he could only gasp in alarm before he crashed face first in the dirt. A painful groan escaped him and a bolt of pain shot through his neck where Deglan had hit him.

“Getting distracted means getting yourself killed”, warned his mentor and the laughter of the surrounding witchers made Y/N’s face burn from embarrassment.

This was the first time in a while that he could not even swing his sword at Deglan before he got humiliated.

Shame rose in his chest, but he was also angry. Deglan played dirty by attacking him while distracted, although he knew that neither monsters nor human enemies would act chivalrously in a real fight.

One might expect him to have thick skin after 27th defeats but getting embarrassed in front of so many people was different, especially when a certain young man was watching him.

He wished a hole would open up under him and swallow him whole.

Y/N slowly stood up, mud caked his clothes and his face and he grimaced. He had bit his lip during the fall and the taste of iron was disgustingly familiar. He was about to grasp his sword again, ready for defeat number 28 when Deglan dismissed him with the movement of his hand.

“Training's over for you, mud face. Go wash yourself and you-”, he pointed at Fenri, Cole and the rest of Y/N’s friends, “you lot follow me.”

Deglan’s voice turned icy towards the end and he walked past the dirty boy, giving him a strong pat on the shoulder.

Y/N almost lost his balance but quickly regained it. His ears were red from embarrassment and before Cole could nudge him encouragingly, he turned around and quickly crossed the courtyard to escape the still laughing pack of witchers.

His defeat hurt more than usual, probably because Tristan had been watching, and it annoyed him. Sighing, he rubbed his face.

When he washed himself that day, he scrubbed his skin vigorously and pondered about the events that happened that afternoon.

He should have felt guilty for not being able to distract Deglan from his friends. They had probably gotten punished with "special” training - exactly what they had wanted to avoid since the last time had been absolutely horrible... But he couldn’t shake off the gnawing irritation.

It was probably due to Fenri's words.

The younger boy often tried to egg him on, but he rarely succeeded. This time, however...

Y/N racked his brain about Fenri's statement from before. Was he not allowed to like Tristan? He had never questioned his feelings up to this point so it greatly disturbed him.

"Men loving men... is gross..."

These words would haunt him in the coming years and torment him in his sleep because that had been the moment when he realized that his feelings for another man might be viewed as unnatural by other people. What exactly that would mean for him was something he learned only later, though.

When Y/N had laid down in his straw bed in the stables that night, not sure if he could sleep after the event in the afternoon, Cole nudged him and said:

"You know, I don’t believe men liking men is gross. We have many other things to worry about, so the feelings of another man are the least of our concerns, nor are they our business. Deglan told us that...”

He stopped for a second and then whispered: “I think Fenri is acting like a cunt because no girls are training to become witchers. He is just a lonely pent-up arsehole, you know."

Y/N snorted when "I heard that, you bastard!" came from somewhere in the back and some hay flew across the room, hitting Robin, who was laying in another straw hollow right next to him. He sneezed loudly.

“Shit, I was this close to sleeping, you fucker! I’ll get you!”

Chaos ensued, 5 boys were brawling and the discussion was over before Y/N could answer Cole or ask him any questions.

But a little later, after all of them were screamed at by one of the witchers on night guard; when Y/N was the only one still awake, he contemplated what Cole had meant.

Did his mentor not have anything against the thought of two men liking each other? Did he take his friends aside to tell them that and not to punish them?

He would have to ask Cole in the morning... Or should he ask Deglan directly?

The idea made his heart speed up suddenly. Why was he so nervous?

Out of nowhere, he saw his mentor in a different light.

In the end, he did not ask Deglan directly. He was too shy. But his mind replayed Cole’s words for days after that. And that marked the moment when Y/N’s eyes began to unconsciously follow someone other than Tristan.

Yes, he still watched the black-haired young man from time to time, but their training suddenly entailed a lot more lectures and so he began to see Deglan daily, while Tristan crossed his path less and less. And then came spring and the young witcher went on the Path - as many others - and his absence left a hole in Y/N’s usual routine. A hole he filled with a new person of his interest; Deglan.

The man was a renowned witcher, known for his strength and knowledge in the school and Y/N had begun to respect him after the first five losses of their duels. His respect began to grow even further, however, after observing Deglan closely every day.

The older witcher was a dick sometimes, his training was harsh, he could be insensitive on occasions and when his arms spasmed in pain after their mindless sword-swinging exercises Y/N hated him with a passion, but there was something about his mentor that drew his eyes to him again and again in the following years of his training.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, maybe it was the way he treated Y/N or maybe it was his rugged but strong appearance...

The youth watched how Deglan poured a bucket of water over his naked upper body after his training with the older apprentices.

Nevermind, his appearance was definitely one of the reasons why.

A weird feeling spread in his gut, as he watched how water droplets travelled across Deglan’s scarred back muscles. His ears started to burn and the youth at the threshold of adulthood turned away to hack at the training straw doll with newfound vigor.

While Deglan’s appearance definitely drew Y/N in, his character made his eyes return every time.

Thanks to his advanced training and the experiments, he was allowed to share moments with Deglan, when the rough exterior of the man vanished, to show his true character underneath. His kindness, his understanding, his humour.

Of course, there were also moments when Y/N despised the man. He was his mentor after all and every witcher had such instances during their first years at the school.

When Y/N was subjected to more experiments than the other witchers in training and experienced more pain than them, he often cried at night, cursing Deglan in his thoughts. And he cursed himself for letting himself be overwhelmed by his mentor’s praise after he survived the experiments.

When Cole died during one of the trials because of a mage’s accident and Deglan did not dare speak out against the said man, he exploded on him and screamed his voice raw.

Yet although these incidents happened, Y/N could never truly hate him. Deglan had already conquered his heart.

The older man personally tended to him after his experiments. He cleaned his wounds, stayed up for nights to take care of his fever and made sure he was not left with horrible scars. Thanks to his care, Y/N’s face was not completely disfigured.

And he made sure that the young adult was proud of his achievements.

Y/N blushed like a maiden every damn time when Deglan commented on his fierce-looking scars, while his heart tried to crawl out of his ribcage and present itself to the other man as if he were a god.

And when Cole had died Deglan properly buried the boy, let his friends hold a funeral and allowed them a mourning period. They did not have to train then and Y/N spent his time at Cole’s grave, heart heavy and full of guilt.

One day he had a breakdown, he blamed himself for Cole’s death and he felt the urge to hurt himself - because he should have been the one to die, he should have gone with that magician, it had been his turn - Deglan had given him a good punch and then an even better hug to calm him down.

Y/N’s dreams had revolved around that embrace for several months when Deglan had gone out on the path, his heartbeat like an echo in his ears and his mentor’s scent and strong arms engulfed him in his sleep.

His dreams changed during these months and more often than not he would wake up sweaty in the morning and he hurried to clean his clothes before his friends would wake up.

Due to these fantasies, his heart thundered in his ears whenever the older witcher would get too close after his return.

There was something special between them, their bond was more than just apprentice and mentor, Y/N fully believed that and allowed himself to dream.

It only took one summer for Y/N’s thoughts to get captivated by Deglan. Five more for him to finally admit that his feelings for the man were more than just admiration and two winters for him to realize that he wanted, needed Deglan and him to become lovers.

And then one night only, for his older self to learn that he had imagined everything between them, that he was a blind fool...

It had been just a normal evening if one ignored the fact that Y/N and his friends had finally reached the end of their training and would become full-grown witchers in about one moon. Soon they would set out alone on the Path for the first time. And simultaneously the day drew near on which Y/N planned to confess his feelings.

At first, it had been just a daydream but the eye contact he had shared with his mentor in the past weeks had only made his feelings stronger and so he decided to gather his courage to confess the day before he would leave for the Path. In case something would go wrong, he could leave quietly, although he did not actually fret about this, he was convinced that Deglan liked him as well.

The aspiring witchers were sitting in the evening hall, drinking ale and playing Gwent after a fulfilling meal, while their mentors told stories and their younger peers listened to them intently.

Suddenly, the door got thrown open and Deglan, followed by the current leader Rennes and two other drunk witchers entered the hall.

Deglan and the two others had gone down the mountains a few days ago because a noble had sent a letter about a beast that woke up early from its hibernation. It seemed like they had just returned.

“Fuck, Deglan, why is it always you? That lady... Those lips are not just good for talking, you know that personally, right? Tell me and the lads about it!”

Y/N turned his head at the mention of his mentor’s name and he put down the cards in his hands to find the man among the newcomers. He hoped Deglan came back unscathed.

The drunk witchers whistled loudly and patted Deglan’s shoulders expectantly after they had sat down on one of the tables next to the fire.

Y/N's eyes found the older man and his heart pounded faster. The ale made him slightly drowsy and his imagination was running wild after seeing how Deglan's shirt was torn at the front, showing his strong abdominal muscles and his impressive scars. He didn’t seem to have any injuries and the h/c haired witcher sighed in relief.

Lewd thoughts rushed through his mind while he watched the man and he remembered one of the daydreams he had in their latest lecture. He moved in his seat and gripped his thigh to calm down before he would embarrass himself.

His mentor swatted the hands of one of the other witchers away and said something incoherent, while Vesemir, the young boy Deglan had brought back a few months ago, hurried to get some ale from the barrels in the corner and gave each of the newcomers a mug.

“We all saw her eyes, she was like a bitch in heat next to her husband, the poor lad. You’ve been warming her bed, have you not? While that old fart rots away, you cheeky fucker!” hollered one of the drunk witchers before downing his drink in one gulp.

Deglan lowered his head, as if he was embarrassed and gruffly answered:

“Can’t believe I told you about that...”

These quiet-spoken words echoed loudly in Y/N’s ears due to his mutated hearing. Y/N blinked. The conversations in the hall turned muffled as his heartbeat resounded loudly in his ears and he lowered his eyes to look at his hands which he unconsciously formed into fists.

You’ve been warming her bed... Can’t believe I told you...

Something in Y/N made an ugly noise. Barmin looked up from his cards and tilted his head, worried. His friend opened his mouth and said something but Y/N could not hear it.

Deglan was sleeping with some noblewoman.

It made sense.

He was a witcher and they did have an insatiable urge for sex. It was a side effect of the alchemic experiments and for them it was natural. They even had a lecture about it during their first training years.

But for Y/N, who had experienced the carnal desire several times already since his completion of the trials and who used his hands to deal with the problem, it had been somehow logical that Deglan would not choose to lay with any women.

His mentor was usually never involved in any of the lewd discussions of the older witchers, so he naturally assumed that Deglan did not bed any ladies ever.

Y/N must have brainwashed himself into thinking that the older man stayed in his room and fucked himself while thinking about him, that’s at least what he had been doing.

But it seemed like he got it all wrong.

It was his own delusion and the realization that he had been wrong all this time hit him like a punch in the throat. It left him breathless.

He felt betrayed - he had no reason to feel betrayed, Deglan was not even aware of this... possessive mess of emotions in his chest that he felt for him - and the realization that whatever feelings and dreams of a shared future Y/N had for Deglan were probably useless dawned on him.

Fenri’s words from all those years ago once again echoed in his mind.

“Men loving men is gross.”

An image of Deglan with a beautiful woman appeared in his head. His mentor held her close, one of his hands on her hip and the other held her hands and the man smiled, one of these crooked but beautiful smiles he only seemed to show when Y/N and he were alone.

And it hurt. It fucking hurt.

He was unable to transform the image, he could not take the place of that woman because he was as tall as Deglan by now and his spine did not have a soft curve and his hands could not be covered entirely by Deglan’s and all the stupid romance tales Robin dumped on them during their breaks did not entail two men with scars and rough, blister-covered hands and so he could not see himself next to Deglan because it was not meant to be.

The shitty fairy tale romance he had spun in his mind would never come to life.

The hope and delusion he had for all these years shriveled in his heart and died.

He had been wrong. The bond he felt between him and Deglan could not be what he had imagined.

Y/N was an orphan, his parents had had no need for him, he had been a waste of space and that was why they dumped him on the orphanage’s doorsteps, and while he did eventually find a home in the witcher’s keep - a home for the outcasts of society - he apparently remained an outsider even here.

An outcast among outcasts, was this not the fucking worst?

Y/N cursed the experiments that gave him better hearing, he cursed the witcher who brought him to the school, he cursed his heart for once again choosing an unreachable person and he cursed the world for making him the way he was.

And he cursed Deglan for treating him so kindly, as if he were special, as if there was something between them, something that could grow and turn into love and make them soulmates.

His mentor probably only treated him better because he had been praised as an exceptional student, a perfect test subject for experiments and a great fighter.

Not because he saw who Y/N really was, what he longed for...

How could he even think about confessing his feelings?!

He had to stifle a hollow laugh because of the irony and before Barmin or Fenri or Milan or any other of their table’s occupants could say anything, he abruptly stood up and left the hall.

His way led him past the table where Deglan was sitting but Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the door and even when his mentor called out his name, he did not turn around.

He disappeared behind the wooden door of the hall and missed the dark look in Deglan's eyes as the man watched the retreating back of the younger witcher.

He missed his mentor’s furious gaze on the drunk witcher who spouted nonsense and Rennes’ commentary that Deglan would never fuck some random noble woman, in fact, he wasn’t sure if the guy even had a dick because he never lusted after any woman, no matter if she were a virgin, succubus or a literal goddess.

He missed it all.

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