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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Together In Paris

Auror!Draco X Auror!Reader

Summary: Cliche mini-series: There was only one bed/fake dating

A/n: I have no idea where this came from but it’s beautiful and so soft and cute and ugh. I love you guys so much so let me know what you think as always!! Also this is 8k words because I have no self control at all.

“There has to be some mistake,” I gasped. “Harry, you can’t be serious!”

“I need this case in the hands of my two best Aurors, and that’s you and Malfoy,” Harry leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

Draco was very quiet and very still beside me. Where my anger was loud and biting, I could tell that his was cold and unforgiving.

“Okay, and I’m flattered, but Harry,” I dismayed. “This is a weekend in Paris for a couples retreat. What the bloody hell do you expect us to do there?”

“Act like a couple,” Harry said, as if it were obvious. And I wished that it wasn’t. “And bring in this potions smuggler,”

I huffed and stormed off, heading to my desk to gather what I needed for this god forsaken case. Stupid Harry. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid shiny shoes that were in my line of vision.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” I looked up, abandoning my spare anti-hex potions in their bottom drawer. “What do you want?”

“You act like I’m happy about this,” He snapped coldly. “I’d rather spend a weekend in Paris doing something enjoyable with just about anyone else.”

Fury burned in my heart as his words pierced it. I couldn’t deny that they stung a bit. Truthfully, Draco wasn’t the worst person to get stuck on a case with. Instead I was angry because Harry just assumed that I’d be okay with pretending to date someone, even for a case.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” I snarled. “What do you want Malfoy?” I sighed, continuing to pack my bag.

“What time would you like me to pick you up tonight?” His tone was so polite that it had me reeling, abandoning my task of packing.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The case, it starts tomorrow evening. I assume that you’d like to get there early and see what we’re dealing with? You have with cases before,” He gave in tidbit of knowledge so offhandedly that I almost missed how Draco had somehow managed to pick up on my habits.

“I... uh. Yeah,” I zipped my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “Is seven alright with you? I have a few things that I need to get in order before we head out.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven then,”

Deciding that the interaction with Draco was one of the weirder moments of my life, I prepared myself for a weekend filled with... coupling—ugh. I spent about an hour ranting to my empty flat as I packed a suitcase and garment bag, my more expensive dresses safely inside. I paused in the mirror and sighed wistfully. Coupled with Draco Malfoy. Yeah right. We weren’t even in the same spheres of influence. Our spheres didn’t even touch remotely.

Promptly at seven, my doorbell rang, and I could tell that Draco was eyeing my jeans and sweater skeptically. I seemed like a teenager standing next to his immaculate, no doubt tailored- to-him suit. Lost. Lost was a good word that fit. I seemed lost when I stood beside Draco.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I sighed, letting him in so that we could apparate together.

I should have looked over the case notes a bit more. I would have dressed better if I had known Draco and I would be staying at the Ritz. I understood Draco’s look of contempt for my wardrobe earlier.

“Are you ready?” He asked again, softly.

“Yeah, sure.” I smiled settling into a fake persona that was desperately in love with Draco Malfoy. With the smile he returned, I could tell that Draco had done the same as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I tried not to gawk at the lavish lobby as Draco checked us in and I tried to also ignore the disapproving looks I got from the staff about my wardrobe. I stuck closer to Draco after one to many nasty stares.

French fell elegantly from his lips as he spoke to the receptionist. It escaped my mind that he could speak the language—it was probably one of the leading reasons that he was placed on this case: he could thrive without a translation spell. The small French woman made a remark that seemed to upset Draco, his words becoming harsh, his lip curling in anger. The woman started to stammer her words in what I assumed was apologies as she smiled nervously at me before pressing a key into Draco’s hands. A bellhop followed behind us with our luggage.

“What was that all about?” I asked Draco when we were alone in a imperial suite—either the Ministry had given Harry way too much power over funds or this had Malfoy written all over it.

“What was what?” Draco asked, drawing the curtains.

“The receptionist,” I gave, running my fingers over a marble statue of the Venus De Milo.

“Yes? What about her?” He raised an eyebrow at me, shrugging off his blazer and undoing his cufflinks.

“You snapped at her,”

“Ah,” Draco’s lips drew into a thin smile. “Well, I could hardly stand for her to be insulting the love of my life, now could I?” Sarcasm dripped in his tone as his smile became wicked.

“Oh, you stuffy people and your stuffy rules!” I dismayed. “Jeans are comfortable! So are sweaters!” I folded my arms childishly.

“I’m not arguing there, but Y/n, come on, at the Ritz?” Draco piqued an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know it would be here! Bloody hell, I would have dressed better if I knew!” It’s what I had been wanting to scream for the past hour that it felt nice to let the words finally leave my lips.

A chuckle fell from his lips as he sat at in a plush armchair, gesturing for me to join him. I sighed and sat in the adjacent chair, pulling my legs up onto the seat with me. If Draco disapproved, he didn’t voice his opinion.

“Now, before we begin,” His voice dropped into a formal tone, and I knew he was speaking about the case. “I need to know boundaries for you. Yes, we have to be a couple, but I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable or throw you off guard. I need you sharp and focused for us to do this case successfully,”

“That was... almost sweet,” I chuckled darkly.

My tongue darted between my lips as memories that I tried hard to keep locked down came resurfacing. It was another reason for my fury about the case. Harry knew that I had just gotten out of a toxic long-term relationship and I doubted he thought twice about my approval on the matter of this case. My eyes dropped to my lap; my eyebrows drawn together.

“Y/n,” He called softly, drawing my attention from my spiraling thoughts.

“Just...” I started. “I’m fine. Hug me, kiss me, hold me close, call me whatever, I don’t care,” The words were sharper than I meant them to be as I stormed out of the room and slammed whatever door was between us.

Leaning against the same door, fighting tears and the urge to apparate back home, my eyes settled on one large, silk draped, pillow lined, king sized bed.

“No,” I gasped. “No, no, no!” I screamed. “There is no way in hell!”

“Y/n?” A soft knock was on the door behind me.

I yanked it open and met an anxious looking Draco.

“What the hell!?” I gestured wildly to the bed.

“Are you alright?” Draco neared me cautiously. “Are you sure you’re up for this case?”

“Oh, don’t patronize me!” I snapped. “I’m just fine!”

“Then what in the world are you on about?” He folded his arms defiantly.

“The bed,” I hissed.

“Yes, what about it?” Oh, I wanted to punch him.

“There’s only one.”

“Oh, she can count, the day is saved,” Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, there’s one bed, do you think a couple would be sleeping in separate beds? We have a cover to keep,”

My face scrunched up in anger as I sighed and scrubbed my face, my resolve falling flat.

“Right, the case.” I nodded, putting on a false calm smile. “Any boundaries of yours I need to know about?”

Draco eyed me warily, and whatever he wanted to say died on his tongue as he regained composure.

“Just be polite. Formal. We’re... how did you put it? Stuffy people, not teenagers,” There was a small smile on his lips.

“Right,” I nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,”

“It’s my fault, I should have warned you.” His tone was soft. “And I also should have mentioned that I fully planned on sleeping on the floor, or perhaps a couch. I’d never impose on your privacy like that.”

I thawed a little more and my smile became a bit more real. “Thank you, Draco,”

“I’ll... leave you alone. If you’d like to change, we can explore a bit, though it’s all about the same here,”

“You say that like you come to Paris for lunch,” I drawled. “Not all of us have been out of the country, Malfoy,”

“You’ve—” He backtracked. “You’ve never been to Paris?”

“No?”

“Get changed,” He ordered. “Never been to Paris,” He scoffed, closing the door behind him.

__________________________

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

“Harry,” Draco hissed, his eyes darting away from your retreating form.

“Can it, Malfoy,” Harry pushed off his desk and rounded it. “I don’t want to hear how you don’t want the case either,”

“Forget about me.” Draco nearly roared. “Don’t you understand how bad this is going to be for Y/n? How much this is going to hurt her?”

Harry looked dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you are so blind!” Draco distressed. “She just got out of a very unhealthy relationship not a month ago and you want her to pretend to be in love with someone else? Are you bloody mad?”

“It’s just one weekend,” Harry insisted.

“Oh, I pity the girl you take home,” Draco sneered. “I’ll do the case. For her sake.”

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

Of course, Draco knew about your breakup. He worked with you for Merlin’s sake. He noticed when you were too quiet or skipped out on meals. Not that he ever meant to, but he liked his routine, and every other person in their rightful place as well. He noticed when a pattern was broken.

You were still a brilliant Auror despite it all. You smiled more. You actual made conversation with him now. He was happy for you. You seemed... free. Reanimated. He feared that this case would be the mental breakdown that everyone around you seemed to be waiting for. And Draco didn’t know if he was ready for that. He didn’t know if you were ready for that.

So, he’d be civil. He’d be a jerk if it meant sparing your feelings. He’d make this as easy as he could for you. He knew what it was like to need to break but terrified of the act itself. To hold his head high despite wanting to lash out at everyone and everything. And he had grown from it. Learned how to break in a healthy way. And how to pick himself back up.

It was about fifteen minutes before the bedroom door opened and you stepped out. Draco’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Switching your jeans and sweater for an A-line black skirt that draped down your frame, paired with a white button up blouse, sheer thigh highs and a pair of heels in one hand and a Prada bag in the other.

“Is this okay?” You asked timidly. “I... I don’t really do this sort of thing,”

Your hair draped effortlessly down your shoulders, and light makeup that gave you an airbrushed look. An inviting look. Whatever made you think that you shouldn’t do this sort of thing needed to be stopped immediately because you looked wonderful.

“Draco?” You pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, recovering.

“Uh. Yes, that’s perfect,” He rushed out, your cheeks flushing pink. “Shall we?” He offered his arm.

Slipping on your heels, they clicked on the floor, a melody to the sharp sounds of his dress shoes harmonizing on the marble floors.

“So, you’ve never been to Paris?” He mused.

“No,” You looked down. “I’ve always wanted to travel but...” A sharp breath entered your glossy lips. “I guess I can now. Huh,” You smiled at the thought, holding your head high and Draco wondered if your ex-lover had prevented you from travelling. “So, this is Paris?” Your eyes flitted to the towering antique buildings, the smile remaining on your face.

“A small part of it,” Draco chuckled. “The night is coming soon, but if we have tomorrow, I’ll take you around the city,”

A laugh bubbled from your lips, a pretty sound that went with the flowers in the window boxes. The sun was setting and the streetlamps hanging their heads began to illuminate the Parisian streets. It gave the scene around them a softer look, painting you in a golden light.

“You know you don’t actually have to take me on a date,” You mused. “It’s just a case, Draco,”

“Case or not, I won’t have you in my city and not see some of it.” Draco decided.

“Your city?”

“You understand that I do have a summer home here, right?” He raised an eyebrow. “And this is where my family used to come on holiday? And that one of my best friends lives here?”

“Really?” Surprise flickered across your face. “Who?”

“Pansy,” Draco smiled. “She moved here after...”

You nodded and your eyes traced to a small café and a couple sharing a soufflé on the patio. Your eyes dropped to the sidewalk under your heels, your smile falling.

“Would you like to get some dinner?” He asked softly.

“I... no thank you,” Your voice was quiet. “I already ate.”

“Dessert then perhaps?” Draco tried. “Ever had crème brulee?”

“Can’t say that I have,”

Your hand dropped from the crook of his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around yourself. He could see you shutting down at the thought and he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing you or let you close yourself off.

“Don’t you think you deserve one? You’ve always wanted to come here, you’re here now. Don’t let him ruin it,” Scared he had overstepped his bounds as your silence dragged on, Draco began to grow more worried with each quiet second.

“You’re right,” You finally spoke. “I’m here now. I’m free to do as I please. And I really want to try a crème brulee,” There was a childlike smile on your face.

Draco led you across the cobblestone street to the small café that you had been eyeing earlier and swiftly ordered for the both of you in French as you got lost in the sights and smells around you.

Despite the later hour, the café was far from closing down. The waiter came with the assortment of bakery sweets that he had ordered, and you gaped at them.

“I thought we were getting one crème brulee,” You protested.

“Well, I figured you’d want to try a few other things as well. I know that you enjoy sweet things,”

Draco pushed the small dishes your way and watched you nibble your way through the pastries and desserts, hoarding the ones you enjoyed and passing to him the ones you didn’t prefer. You were lost in your own little world as you marveled at the Parisian pastries, particularly enjoying macarons—as well as your crème brulee.

“Thank you,” You looked down, a soft smile on your lips. “This was... really nice.” The dishes had been long cleared from the table and it left the pair staring that the stars through the shop window.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Draco offered his arm again and led you back towards the hotel.

There was only one bathroom in the suite, so Draco allowed you to use it first. In the meantime, he stood out on the balcony of the suite, overlooking the Paris skyline. It hadn’t changed much since he was a small child. The only thing that seemed to change massively was the one looking out. Draco didn’t know how long he stood there, pondering the stars, but your small voice pulled him from those thoughts.

He turned and you were back into your normal favored attire: cotton sweats and a sweater, thick socks on your feet and your hair in a messy ponytail. A smile touched his lips, because you looked just as wonderful like this.

__________________________

The girl in the mirror looked confused, but happy all the same.

“We’re just friends,” I told her. “That’s all I need. This is a case. This is a job, and Draco’s a friend.” She smiled back at me and nodded.

“Draco?”

He was on the balcony, lost in thought I supposed. He turned all the same, a soft smile on his face.

“I... I can take the couch if you want,” I offered. “I’m shorter than you... it’ll probably be a nightmare for you to sleep on the couch,” My gaze dropped as I shifted from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it,” Draco smiled, closing the French doors to the balcony and drawing the curtains. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again,”

“Oh,” I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that but brushed off the intrusive thoughts that threatened.

Since the bathroom was connected to the master bedroom, I perched on the bed, the bedside lamps on allowing me to continue my book. It was an old muggle classic that I found myself lost in. The bathroom door opened, and my eyes darted over to see Draco with damp hair in an old pair of Slytherin sweats and a V-neck. A small laugh escaped my lips at the sight.

“What?” He demanded.

“Nothing just didn’t expect to see you in Slytherin sweats, that’s all,” I closed my book, resting it on my lap.

“Oh, well.” He flushed slightly. “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight,”

He closed the door behind him, and I stared at the ornate doors for longer than I cared to admit. Sighing, I pulled out the case file and began to comb through the details. Harry wanted us to find potions smugglers who sold to high-brow cliental. From Polyjuice potion to Death Draught. The next sale was supposed to go down this weekend here at the Ritz during a couples ball. There were no names given for the criminals, but a description: male, two meters tall, brown cropped hair, and green eyes.

There was something almost familiar about the description, but I couldn’t place it. Sighing, I set down the file and turned off the lights, settling in for a long day tomorrow. The oversized pillows and expensive sheets offered me no comfort. They were too cold, to silky. I craved my quilt from home and my cotton sheets.

Giving up on the notion of sleep, I threw off the covers and went to the closet. There I found a knitted blanket that was heavenly soft to the touch. Stripping the bed of the top sheet and duvet as well as most of the pillows, I curled up with the blanket and a couple pillows and chased sleep.

“What in Merlin’s name?” The voice was confused and loud for this early in the morning. “What did the pillows ever do to you?”

I blinked out of the warmth of my dream and into the crisp morning, face to face with a disheveled sleepy Draco Malfoy.

“What?” I sat up, scrubbing my eyes.

“The bed? Hell, if I knew you were going to demolish it, I would have said take the couch,” There was a slight smile on his face.

“Didn’t feel right...” I mumbled, hugging my knees. “I’ll... I’ll clean it all up.”

“Don’t bother, we’re paying enough, housekeeping can take care of it. I’ll ask if they can switch the sheets to cotton for you,”

“Oh, no. Please don’t cause any trouble on my behalf.” I stammered quickly.

“It’s not trouble,” Draco smiled. “It’s their job, darling,”

“Doesn’t mean we have to make it harder.” I stumbled out of bed and grabbed my wand, casting a spell so that the bed remade itself. “Why are you up so early anyway? The sun is barely up.”

“Old habit,” he gave a tight smile. “Fancy some breakfast?”

“It’s too early to eat,” I grumbled. “Coffee however is necessary so lead the way, darling,” I drawled sarcastically, draping one of the hotel house coats around me to mirror Draco’s silk green one that he no doubt owned already.

Draco paused at the door.

“If you need an out. Or a break. At any time. Let me know and I’ll get you out.” His voice was careful and serious.

“I’m not going to break,” I refuted defiantly. “If that’s what you’re waiting for.” I pushed past him and out the door, down the hall and to the elevator. The ride was quiet and tense.

“I never meant to imply—”

“Just leave it.” I cut him off. “I haven’t had enough caffeine to deal with this yet.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered as we exited the elevator and I wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for, but it thawed me out a bit.

Breakfast was tense and quiet as we ate in silence. Draco read the Daily Prophet and I continued on my book. We made polite conversation with passersby and smiled like we were in love.

And I was in love. With the China teacups and their gold leaf accents. With the rich foods served and the beautiful decor. I was in love with the lavish tablecloths and the fancy napkins. I adored the chandeliers and sconces and fresh flowers that were on every table. It was beautiful and I was in love with it.

It wasn’t fair that Draco looked at home among the beautiful things. As if he came with them. “Are you still wanting to see the city?” He asked cautiously when we were back up in the suite.

“If you’re willing to put up with me for the day,” a smile touched my lips. “I... I know I can be a handful.”

“All things considered,” he mused softly. “I think you’re doing wonderfully.”

I smiled and lingered a moment longer than necessary before heading to the master bedroom to change. Favoring for a pair of high waisted black slim pants and a cold shoulder emerald top, I decided I could have looked worse. Lacing up my boots I headed out to Draco who was laying down his collar. His eyes swept over my figure, leaving me slightly self-conscious as I braided my hair loosely.

“Here,” Draco reached into the nearest drawer and pulled out a black ribbon and passed it to me before reaching back into the drawer. “These are my mother’s, but I don’t think she’ll mind you borrowing them,”

He offered me a black velvet box and inside were nestled a pair of diamond earrings.

“Draco, I can’t—”

“You can and you will,” he smiled. “You deserve it,”

I looked at the earring and my resolves crumbled as I put them on.

“Is this your suite then?” I mused.

“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” he chuckled.

“Should have known from all the green,” I teased back.

“It’s a regal color,” Draco insisted.

“Sure thing darling,” a chuckle left my lips as we headed out the door.

“It is!” He tried again, causing me to laugh.

_________________________________

Draco had been to Paris just about as many times as he had been to London. Perhaps the city lost some of its shine over the years. Maybe after the war the Paris lights didn’t look the same to him. Perchance he had lost his childlike awe of the historical envied city.

But you... you had never been to Paris. You have never walked along the Seine. You had never seen the Eiffel Tower, never browsed the art of the Louvre. You’d never stood under the light filtered through the stain glass of the Notre Dame. Your fingers never ran over the rough stone of the Arc de Triomphe.

Now you had.

“This was a very nice not date,” You smiled, sitting beside him on a bench watching the people of Paris below you from the top of the Eiffel Tower. “I can see why you keep coming back,”

“I haven’t been since the... since I became an Auror,” Draco’s eyes were trained on the horizon.

“Well... I’m glad you came.” There was a gentle smile on your face as he caught your warm eyes. “On the case, I mean.” You recovered and looked down at your hands. “I know this probably isn’t easy for you either,”

“It could have been worse,” Draco teased lightly. “I could have been stuck with Greengrass,” His words seemed to pull you from your moping thoughts as your smile returned.

“She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure you would have been fine.” You went back to fidgeting with your hands, your eyes dropping to them, “Besides who wouldn’t want to go undercover as Draco Malfoy’s significant other,” It was a sad sort of humor.

“You?” Draco pressed softly.

You gnawed on your lip, lost in thought as your eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “We should go,” You barely whispered, standing. “We have a banquet tonight at the hotel.”

“Y/n,” Draco followed you to the elevators.

“What?” It was a bit more defensive now.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t mean a lot of things, I know,” Your arms folded tightly across your chest, your head ducked down. “It’s fine, we have a case to do and a criminal to catch. You said it yourself, I need to be sharp and focused to do this successfully,” Your tone was clipped, and Draco was taken aback at your sudden change of attitude on a drop of a dime as his words came back to haunt him. “So, if you don’t mean any of it, then neither do I,”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. Your abrasive words sent him reeling. What had happened to the girl who was wonderstruck by the city? The girl who was amused at the street performers and the girl who smiled something carefree? Just when he thought the real you was free beside him, you caged her back again and locked him out, and he shouldn’t care, but he did. Because you were hurting. The same way that he used to.

But he had to admit that you were right, he had a case to accomplish. And if he wasn’t focused you could get hurt, he could get hurt, or the felon could slip through your fingers.

In his well tailor suit and his hair coiffed back precisely, he was ready to do everything and mean nothing. A cold mask that you mirrored as he met you in a deep navy draped silk gown, your heels in hand again. His heart didn’t mean to skip a beat.

Tucked against his side, smiling like you didn’t have a care in the world, he was quite glad that the other guests and staff didn’t expect much animation from him. It gave him time to keep an eye on you. He could schmooze with ease and little effort, and he soon learned that so could you. From the outside, you two looked perfectly smitten with another. Despite his many shortcomings, Harry was right, you two were perfect with this case.

But that’s not what held Draco’s main focus. Instead, it was the constant reminder that this meant nothing. Every gentle touch of your hand, every smile, every pet name, every laugh, every praise of him, every declaration of love, every concerned and caring word—they all meant nothing. It meant nothing to you. It was an act. A job. A case.

And he was losing focus.

Because though you had stumbled into his affluent world in jeans and a sweater, you were now at home among the wealthy wizards you now rubbed elbows with, possessing the grace and poise of someone who was brought up like he was. You knew how to use the silverware set before you. You knew proper etiquette.

“Miss Y/n,”

Amelia Bones, the former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was sat at the banquet table along with you and Draco. You rose your head politely, nodding a hello.

“I’m surprised to see you so cozy with Mr. Malfoy, was it not a month ago you were engaged to another?” Her words seemed harmless, but Draco watched your smile become more forced as the breaths passed.

“My apologies,” Draco cut in coldly. “But I don’t see how that is any of your business,”

“Oh, forgive me dearie, I meant no offense at all,” Mrs. Bones flutter her hand.

“Of course,” You smiled widely, “And yes, you’re correct, but well, since working with Draco it deemed nearly impossible not to fall for him,” The look you gave him made him lose focus completely. “And it was an arranged marriage, my parents offered me the option at the beginning of the war, and well, I had no reason to refuse,” Your hand slipped into his. “Until I met Draco that was,”

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely,” Mrs. Bones fawned to her husband beside her. “A real fairytale ending you have yourself Y/n, I’m sure others are just dying to be in your shoes,”

“I’m sure,” Your smile became forced again, but you held your composure.

But that didn’t mean that Draco didn’t commandeer the conversation to keep the attention off of you for the remainder of the banquet. You excused yourself slightly early, though it was a polite time to leave, nonetheless. Draco bid the folks he was talking to and followed you out.

He found you on the balcony, barefoot, your hair out of the tight bun it had been in, your dress still on. The stars stretched out before you over the rooftops of Paris, the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the distance.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Your words were barely audible.

“I didn’t say anything,” Draco retorted, slipping off his blazer and tie.

“You were thinking it,”

He smiled as he came beside you, leaning against the railing.

“Maybe I was,” He sighed softly. “Regardless, you’re my partner on this case, and I dare say you’re a friend of mine. I’d like to know if you’re okay. It’s what friends do,”

A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes lifted from your hands back to the skyline blinking back tears.

“Friends,” You muttered weakly. Not that he liked the word much either, but he’d take it to keep you close.

“I... I know that we—I haven’t had much luck at this, but if... if you need someone to...” Draco trailed off, shaking his head. He knew it was a lost cause. He knew that you didn’t mean anything.

Again, you were quiet. He turned to leave, but you spoke up.

“He was supposed to be my happily ever after,” The words were soft and sad. “My prince charming come to save me.” Draco paused and turned back to you; his brows furrowed. “All this time I thought he’d save me... but I ended up saving myself, and him.” You went from facing the city to facing him, “And he refused to save himself. And made me feel terrible for saving myself... for becoming someone new... someone stronger.”

“You... seemed happier after...” Draco spoke carefully.

You nodded. “Everyone was waiting for me to break. To cry... go off the wall... and sometimes I wonder why I don’t. Why I can’t.” You turned your head to the side. “Sure, I get snappy... and the nights haunt me... but to cry? To miss someone who drained me?” A shrug fell from your shoulders. “I can’t do it...” A pause. “Maybe I am broken. I can’t even break properly.”

“No one said you had to break,” Draco took a careful step forward. “No one said you had to cry.”

“But shouldn’t I?” There were tears in your eyes now.

“No,” Draco shook his head softly. “Breaking hurts, and it seems like you already have. Now you’re just picking up the pieces where you can,”

You mulled over the thought and nodded, facing the city once more.

“They always talk about the one who got away, but they never ask her why she left, do they?” The question was gentle from your lips as Draco left you alone to think. He was sure that he wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.

____________________________

The cotton sheets of the king-sized bed that night welcomed me. The bedding had changed drastically, from silks and down feathers to cotton and quilted blankets. They were still green and gold, but it was an improvement as I stared at the paintings on the walls and ceiling. Despite the change in sheets, sleep still eluded me. Frustrated this time, I slipped on the housecoat and quietly opened the bedroom doors.

Only to find Draco awake with the light on, reading. I almost wanted to smile at how he was draped over the couch in sweats and nothing else, looking at home among the lavish furnishings. He looked up from his book.

“Can’t sleep,” I confessed, leaning against the door jam. “Thanks for the sheets and stuff though...”

“Is there something I can do?” He asked softly, setting down his book, sitting up.

“Got any Sleeping Draught on you?” I asked hopefully.

“Afraid not,” He pursed his lips.

Moving to the adjacent chaise lounge, I curled up under the throw blanket, running the golden fringe through my fingers.

I wasn’t aware of when I had fallen asleep. I was barely aware being carried to the lavish bed and tucked in. I was aware that I had moved when I awoke to the sun shining in through the curtains.

“Good morning,” Draco greeted as I exited the bedroom, dressed for the day.

The day was a quiet affair. Breakfast mimicked yesterday and lunch mirrored dinner last night. There was no time to go out on the city today, not with the masquerade ball tonight. This was the entire reason for this weekend in Paris. To get into this ball and catch the convict. It took the two hours that it took to get ready to remind myself that this was a case, and not a fairytale ending. I didn’t get those.

Draco escorted me down to the ballroom, commenting on how beautiful I was. I let the compliment roll off my shoulders though I desperately wanted to cling to his words. Words that he didn’t mean.

It didn’t seem fair that the entire Ritz hotel was something out of a fairytale and tonight I was required to pose as the perfect princess, though I felt far from it. My only relief was that my eyes were hidden behind a mask. No one would see accidental tears. I had told Draco that I didn’t need to break, but this might just break me.

An hour slipped by of talking and schmoozing other guests before Draco led me to an adjacent standing table, offering me a haven from the prying eyes and whispers.

“Would you care to dance?” Draco offered his hand, smiling, as the next waltz began from the live quartet.

“We don’t have time to dance,” I retorted. “We’re on a case here,”

“It’s just one dance,” He rolled his eyes, his hand sliding to my waist, ready to escort me.

“You need to focus on this case Draco,” I snapped. “We need to catch this guy in case you’ve forgotten.” I didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh.

“Of course,” His hand dropped from my waist, “If you’ll excuse me,” Draco said quietly.

“Dray, wait, I didn’t mean—”

“I’d know those lips anywhere,” A familiar voice purred from behind me.

“Dean,” My breath caught in my throat as I turned, wishing I hadn’t just sent Draco off.

“And I thought he’d never leave.” Dean grinned. “I gotta say, didn’t think you’d move onto some stiff like Malfoy, and so soon. Does he know he’s a rebound?”

“Oh, fuck off,” I muttered, taking my clutch and walking away from him, scanning the crowd for Draco to no avail.

Dean grabbed my arm and spun me back, a dangerous look in his eyes. He pulled me to a quiet corner of the ballroom.

“Let go of me,” I shook him off, drawing my wand.

“Now, now, wouldn’t want to cause a scene, now would we?” His smile became predatory. “There are quite a few important Muggles in the crowd tonight,”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” I hissed.

“Such naughty language in front of such high paying cliental.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “It’s you,” I breathed out. “You’re the seller,”

“In the flesh, sweetheart,” His green eyes held danger. “What, didn’t expect me to move onto something better? Like you went off and did anything valuable with your life after me, not that Malfoy is much of an improvement.”

I hid my surprise well: he didn’t know that I was an Auror. He didn’t know about the case. Now all I had to do was get him away from harming anyone and pray that Draco would find me to help detain Dean. But to get Dean away from these people, I was going to have to break. Hard.

A perfect masquerade to be someone that I wasn’t. Someone that Dean wanted me to be. Someone who would break my heart.

“Tell me about,” I smiled sweetly, “Maybe I’ll ditch the stiff.” My eyes scanned over Dean in false want.

“So, you realize that leaving me was a mistake,” Dean tilted his chin back.

“Since the moment I walked away,” The lie weighed heavy on my tongue. “Please De,” My hand trailed up his arm.

I could feel my heart splintering.

_______________________________

“Not to alarm you Mr. Malfoy, but it seems that your lady is being entertained by another young man,” Mrs. Bones spoke softly. “They just left out the side door,”

Draco snapped out of his self-pity party as he scanned the crowd for you, his anxiety and adrenaline spiking. You had found the convict.

“Thank you,” Draco gave curtly, untying the mask from around his head and as soon as the door closed behind him, he took off running, wand out, desperate to find you.

He heard soft voices in coming from an adjacent sitting room and cautiously hovered outside the door.

“Remember this?” The voice was low and husky, and one he didn’t recognize.

“Yes,” Your breathy voice came in response.

A thousand thoughts ran through Draco’s mind and for a moment he thought that you really had run off with someone else. That you hadn’t found the felon, but rather someone to... He didn’t want to finish the thought.

“Say it,” The first voice demanded.

“I’m s-sorry,” Your voice whimpered. “I’m sorry I ever left you. Draco... he—he’s nothing compared to you,” Fear and tears were mixed with your voice and Draco had a very good idea of who was in there with you.

Call it jealousy, or his job, Draco burst into the room, finding you pinned against the wall, hands above your head held there by a young man whose lips were pressed to your neck, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. A man with green eyes and brown cropped hair. Their target. And you had found him. And he seemed to know you. Very well.

Then it clicked. The criminal was your ex-lover. Of course, it was. When Draco saw Harry again, he was going to sock him a-la-muggle.

You look absolutely terrified when Draco caught your eyes. Your mask was gone, and you looked disheveled and defeated.

“I was hoping you’d show Malfoy,” An amused smile curled on the target’s lips as he let you go. You fell to the floor, caught off balance.

“Don’t hurt him,” You pleaded, picking yourself up, and Draco didn’t know if you were talking to him or the target.

“You’re not in a place to bargain, sweetheart,” The target snapped. “Auror Malfoy. Here to turn me in I suppose?”

“After I beat the hell out of you, yeah, it’s on my list of things to do,” Draco snarled.

“What? For taking your girl from you?” The target laughed. “She was never yours.”

“She might not be mine, but she sure as hell doesn’t belong to you either,”

“I’m afraid she does,” The target grabbed your arm and jerked you in front of him, creating a shield between he and Draco with you. “And you obviously care for her, so here’s what’s going to happen.” The man drew his wand and held it to your throat. “You’re going to let me make the deal I need to, and then I’m going to take Miss Y/l/n here and leave,”

Draco glowered, his mind racing to figure out how to get you safely out of this. He could see you trembling, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“Dean, please,” You whimpered, curling yourself into his arms.

Your arms draped around the target’s—Dean’s shoulders as you whispered soft things into his ear that made Dean grin and Draco’s blood boil. How could Dean not see how uncomfortable you were? How you shied away from him? Draco’s grip on his wand tightened.

He watched as your lips pressed to Dean’s neck, your hands trailing down his ill-fitting polyester suit as you slinked your way around the felon, distracting Dean long enough that Draco was able to throw a Full Body Bind at him.

“You bitch!” Dean roared.

“You’re the bitch here,” You snarled. “How in a million years could you think that I would want you?” Seething you rounded your frozen ex, wand drawn. “I did do something with my life you asshole! I’m an Auror! And a damn good one!”

“You never had the guts,” Dean barked a laugh.

“On the contrary,” Draco grinned. “She’s the best one we’ve got,”

“You two set me up!”

“Duh,” You laughed, tucking away your wand.

Draco wanted to warn you about the dangers of the deed, but you surprised him and drew back your fist, landing it squarely on Dean’s nose.

“That’s for assaulting me!” Another to his jaw, “That’s for using me!” One more to his cheek, “And that’s for coming back into my life,”

You turned and walked away from Dean, leaving him bleeding, still petrified. Draco caught your hand before you stormed out of the room.

“I’m fine,” You shrugged him off.

“No, you’re not,” Draco refuted.

“Awe, trying to play hero, now?” Dean jeered.

You froze under Draco’s touch, squeezing your eyes shut, your jaw clenching.

“She doesn’t need a hero,” Draco let you go and faced Dean. “She picked herself back up and walked away from a lowlife like you. You were so wrong to ever assume that she needed to be saved.”

There was a knock on the door.

______________________________

I was still trembling. It had been about two hours since Dean first touched me. First shoved me against a wall and forced his lips on mine. From when I had first started to shatter.

In that time, Mrs. Bones had intervened and called backup to detain and court away Dean to Azkaban, the room had been cleaned of any trace of our battle, and Draco and I were alone in the suite, for one last night before we left.

We hadn’t spoken a word since the fight and the tension between us was tangible. Curled up in a deck chair, I desperately tried to rid my mind from Dean and the feeling of his hands on me, his lips on my skin, his whispered words. I shouldn’t be afraid. Not like this. I was an Auror. I was independent and strong.

But hell, I was breaking. Fast and hard.

Draco knocked on the balcony door, drawing my attention. I looked to him, hopeless and terrified. He offered his hand, an invitation, a call. I rose, my resolve fading as I ran into his arms, breaking down in tears. His arms wrapped around me, cradling me to his chest. I frantically grasped at his white button up, trying to ground myself.

Draco gently tugged me to the floor, still cradling me in his arms.

“I—I’m sorry,” I cried out. “I... he... I thought I...”

He shushed me softly and rubbed my back softly. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I didn’t mean it,” I gasped out through tears.

“I know,” His tone was somber.

But though the night dragged relentlessly, it was not the worst night of my life. I took comfort from that. And I was not alone. There was a great deal of comfort in that, too.

My hindsight seemed unbearably clear tonight. I could see every mistake I’d made, every bit of harm I’d done, the small things and the big things. Each pain I’d caused Draco, each wound I’d given myself, stacked up into neat piles that I could not ignore or deny.

And I realized that I’d been wrong all along about wanting to be alone. It had not been Draco and I that I’d been trying to force apart, it was the two parts of myself, the one who craved a companion and the one who was independent and free. But they didn’t know how to exist together, and I should have tried harder to figure it out.

I’d done so much damage.

Draco said little; he just held me on the floor and let me ruin his shirt, staining it with saltwater. At some point a blanket was draped around my shoulders and I was too miserable to figure out where it came from.

It took longer than I thought it would for that smaller, broken part of me to cry herself out. It happened, though, and I was eventually exhausted enough to sleep. While I slept, I felt warm, protected, comforted. I didn’t feel alone.

In the morning, I saw the reason why. It was one of the reasons that had me terrified in the beginning of this entire case:

There was only one bed.

And I wasn’t alone.

Epilogue:

“I did apologize right?” I asked again sheepishly.

“And I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” Draco smiled. “It’s what friends are for Y/n,”

I smiled at the word. Friends. It was the solution to my dilemma. The part of myself that craved a companion but satisfied the girl with dreams and freedom. It was in front of me the entire time. I wished I had realized sooner, and maybe this weekend would have been different, but friends... more than friends, whatever we were or weren’t, Draco had decided to stand by me regardless, and I was grateful.

“Y/l/n, Malfoy, how was Paris?” Harry asked offhandedly as we reported to him Monday morning.

What I wasn’t expecting however, was Draco grabbing Harry’s collar and decking him.

I covered my mouth, trying to conceal a laugh but failed miserably.

“What the hell Malfoy?” Harry sputtered, holding his bleeding nose.

“You wanna know who was dealing those illegal potions?” Malfoy snarled. “Her ex. And you sent her into this weekend blind,”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock as he stammered out apologies.

I rolled my eyes and left the office, a warm smile on my face. Draco walked beside me.

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” I muttered. “Is your hand alright?”

“I know how to throw a punch and not injure myself,” Draco rolled his eyes at me. “And I’ll take any chance I can get to punch Potter in the face,”

I laughed as we apparated to Paris for lunch.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @okaydraco@the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08@thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy@strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise@artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos@quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo @naughtygranger @queenofmankind @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @myforeveryoungblog @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @strawberriesonsummer @jjustsomerandomgirl @mrvlfangirl3190 @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @stoleurmomsvan @echpr @sunkissed-hufflepuff @dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @xlosttdreamss @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @romance-geek @rosie-starlit-sky @californiaa-babyy @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @littlepanda-love @eveft @iraniq

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unsanctitude · 3 years

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Same anon that asked for Cadence hcs. Specific hcs, uuuh... I would love to hear about habits and the curse. If you could sprinkle in some hcs for her relationship with Octavo as well, that's be great (romantic or platonic, either one ^^)

heyy welcome back!! i can absolutely tell you my thoughts on these! since her habits + her relationships tie in with her curse, ill talk about that first :)

-Her Curse is obviously being undead! Compared to other undead, she's unique in the fact she was raised only a couple minutes after she died, which meant that for a certain amount of time, Cadence still felt "alive" after she was risen. I think this lasted as long as the Lute was still being played (by Octavian or otherwise), and that feeling had begun to fade once it was destroyed. So, for her entire venture into the Crypt, she had never known she had died; she passed off feeling bitterly cold as the temperature of the Crypt, and her subsequent deaths as blacking out.

-Feeling alive after death comes with the very unfortunate process of having to experience death once the Lute's magic stops supporting her. Once she was done with the Crypt and returned home, she felt violently ill and fully expected herself to die from whatever sickness this was, still unaware what happened to her. But when it never came, she had to gradually come to terms with her apparent undeath (and with how frequent her migraines are, she figured it was the fall that had done her in first)

-Being reanimated entails obeying the whim of whoever animated you, and for Cadence that was in the form of dancing like an idiot. With the Necrodancer dead she's more or less taken back control of her body, but since she's still animated by the Lute's magic, she still feels the "urge" to move a certain way, like she's following a rhythm. As a result, if she isnt directly focusing on how she's moving around.. she may look like she's dancing. like an idiot. (it doesnt help that the curse has left her with a permanent case of musical tinnitus; she hears music everywhere she goes, so how could she resist?)

-Of all her habits directly affected by the curse, none are as dramatic as the change in her eating habits, for obvious reasons. Her body rejects normal food, but it still feels hungry-- not aching for an ordinary energy source this time, but sustenance for the curse. So, fitting for a zombie who's had her heart stolen, eating human hearts is the best way to keep herself sated. Working as a gravedigger is an easy way to know where and when fresh corpses will be buried, and it gives her an excuse for hanging around graveyards (and its rather easy for someone with inexhaustible stamina)

-Cadence is completely restless; she can no longer sleep even though she feels tired, and the nature of her curse urges her to keep moving. She makes a habit of keeping herself occupied doing something physical, usually digging or any other hard labor required around her property. She can't sit still for longer than two minutes. This makes her a very difficult person to converse with since she'll cut people off in favor of moving on.

As for her relationship with Octavo, HONESTLY i also flip flop between them beings just friends or falling in love dfjgkr i like both honestly! But regardless if its romantic or not im just here for the idea of them just becoming very close and trusting each other despite being very different people!

I don't want this post to get much longer than this so to summarize their whole deal-- I think they work together long enough to get past their first impressions and build a mutual respect, and despite being very different people they just sorta.. harmonize with each other. Most importantly Cadence just finds herself comfortable around him because he doesn't hold her curse against her or dehumanizes her for it, so she'd actually let herself be vulnerable around him. She genuinely thinks he's a funny person just from his novelty and quirks and she enjoys quipping him about it, to which Octavo feigns annoyance, and they just sort of argue which each other constantly in a way thats enjoyable for both pfffpt. They're just able to have fun with each other which is what matters :)

#octavo/cadence is probably a post of its own‚ theres of course more to their dynamic than this but its all i can write right now fgnj #theres a good chance ill draw more of them together so maybe. hopefully i can show what i mean!#ask #cadence #octavo #cotn #cotnd #coh #headcanons #and i got ur other ask too! dont worry about it friend im just flattered you wanna hear my ideas ;w;#i genuinely love sharing these but i can only do it a little at a time otherwise i get burned out #which maybe you can tell from the magnitude of this post LOL #u can always come back and ask me about a different topic if you wanna hear more!

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visions-indestructible-head · 3 years

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incoherent post about Episode 5, "On A Very Special Episode..." so spoiler warming folx

the twins aging up seemingly at will. iconic.

the humor is back! Vision using pacifiers as ear plugs was a 10/10 joke

agnes is honestly getting increasingly conspicuous and im curious how long it'll take Vision to put two and two together. the entire "What did she say just now, taking it from the top?" scene was incredibly tense and i love it.

i feel like the "getting a dog and burying him in the same day" thing is a reference of Vision to the decades changing so quickly. it was said in an interview that there's meaning to everything and even in-universe, Darcy asked why they change episode to episode and that "couldn't purely be for [her] own enjoyment". i could bet it's connected to someone giving Wanda (or she giving herself) a seeming life time with Vision stretched over decades. its a working theory tho

the meta-ness of this episode is *chef's kiss*. Monica insisting Wanda could have taken down Thanos single-handedly? Jimmy interjection that Captain Marvel is equally as strong if not stronger? The entire bit about Wanda not having an alias as a jab at Marvel not using/being licensed to use the name Scarlet Witch?? impeccable writing, please never stop.

the team up Monica, Darcy, Jimmy. need i say more?

Monica knowing something is foul about the FBI dude pulling up this "previously top secret S.W.O.R.D." video material of Wanda allegedly stealing Vision's corpse against her wishes. she smelled it immediately and it's very clear by the look on her face.

everything about the scene of Wanda stepping out of the barrier, dragging the broken drone behind her and going "this is your only warning". and then proceeding to absolutely own the puny little man by mind controlling all of his men while turning her fucking back on him like the queen she is. ma'am, please step on me 😍

the Lagos commercial?? "for when you make a mess you didn't mean to". I stand by the theory that the commercials are by whoever decides to censor, cut and frame the broadcast and that they're aimed at Wanda for whatever reason. why? no idea but this one seems far more radical and personal than the previous ones.

the mini-standoff between Wanda and Vision. Vision's fear coming through

"Why are there no other children in Westview, Wanda?" and wanda dodging the question. she knows more than she lets on or at least she has an idea. he pointed out she probably didn't know at first but does now, like many of us suspected already. and im quite honestly really stoked to find out if Vision gets suspicious of his sons. the flair i got from today's episode was very comic-faithful of "Wanda created the children and Vision recognises them to not be real", but I'm not sure if they would actually go there. then again, they also confirmed Wanda is living with Vision's reanimated corpse that she stole only a few days prior and none of us really bat an eye so im not willing to bet on it.

PIETRO. FUCKING. MAXIMOFF. x-men pietro. i screeched. i didn't dare believe they would. but they foreshadowed. again and again. "mommy, do you have a brother?". "family is forever". "you can bring back the dead". and then evan peters just. THERE. on the mf screen. i still haven't processed tbh. (and if im brutally honest im head over heels for what this could mean for the possible spideypool shit. i just want andrew garfield back man)

it seems y'all were right btw, agnes is becoming so prominent that the Agatha Harkness theories are super realistic rn.

the time line of this show is crazy. it took Wanda 12 days from the end of Endgame to go steal Vision's corpse from S.W.O.R.D. and another 9 for us to get to the start of the show.

there's probably a lot more, i will edit this post but for now I'm done. please, as always, let me know your highlight by replying and/or reblogging, im excited to hear your thoughts!

#wandavision spoilers #wandavision #wanda maximoff #darcy lewis #vision #jimmy woo #monica rambeau #shane speaks #Holy fuck i am blown away by this show #it keeps getting better #and more house of M-esque

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thirteen-jades · 3 years

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I recently completed my very first D&D (technically Pathfinder) adventure of non-trivial length! It was actually a little while ago, but I was waiting for someone to draw a thing before posting that. Not sure if that’s going to happen, so I guess now’s as good a time as any!

@self-loving-vampire ran Godsmouth Heresy for a few friends/acquaintances and I, and it was a blast. In addition to the dungeon crawl that was built into the adventure, she created a whole big side dungeon that was a lot of fun to explore, filled with all sorts of unique encounters. It was an ancient prison that had been abandoned millennia ago, but whose prisoners were largely immortal or magically prevented from aging and thus had languished there to the present day. Of special note was the “main” prison room, where seven immortal prisoners were held inside small cells behind walls of force. We freed several of these, including an Azata and a hag that offered us martial assistance, a lamia matriarch that gave us information, and a vampire that we freed mostly because my character liked vampires and wanted to befriend one.

I was utterly smitten with my character by the end of it; she was a half-vampire necromancer named Pythea Nightbough that was very begrudgingly hired along with some other adventurers by an undead-hating church to kill off another necromancer that was essentially operating out of their basement. She was also an awful person, but not in the way that necromancers tend to be. Rather than edgy or brooding, she was essentially a lost sassy child that didn’t give a single fuck about anyone else in the world other than herself.

This turned out to work really well, as it allowed me a reason to work with the party (she may not care about them, but they’re the thing between her and getting mauled to death by a demon, so she needs them anyway), and also lead to some fun decision points here and there. She committed at least one deeply evil act with the specific reasoning that it would benefit her personally, and the aftermath will be somebody else’s problem. I’ve rarely played evil characters before, but I think I want to do it more often now; it’s remarkably fun to be presented with a moral dilemma and solve it by not caring about morality in the first place. And just being an ass in general is fun sometimes too, as long as it doesn’t detract from the other players enjoyment of the game, which I tried hard to prevent and was pretty successful at avoiding.

I really want to run this character again in a campaign more suited to large-scale necromancy, as even beyond evil being fun, I think she has quite a lot of potential. She grew up entirely bereft of friends or other healthy interpersonal relationships, which she handled by projecting *hard* onto the skeleton minion she started with as well as the other undead she dominated. Her starting skeleton was named Mister Rattles for the sounds his bones made, and was what remained of the most vicious of her childhood bullies.

Pythea always referred to dominating other undead as befriending them, and she did quite a lot of befriending over the course of the adventure. Most notably, the boss of the side dungeon was an allip, the specter that remains when someone commits suicide and can’t let go of the world. He emerged from the final treasure room in spectacular fashion, leading us all to panic about how we were going to fight this thing in our exhausted and battered state. I happened to get very first initiative, and tossed out a Command Undead spell on the odd chance that it’d work. One bad Will save later and I’d befriended the boss of the entire side dungeon, easily the strongest single creature we fought, and won the encounter in a single turn.

When we finally got to the end boss of the main dungeon we were powerful enough to easily wipe him, but instead of just leaping to combat the encounter took a much more interesting turn. We discovered that the necromancer was a former cleric of the church employing us who had figured out a way to reanimate corpses with alchemical methods instead of necromantic magic. He incorrectly thought the church wouldn’t be opposed to this, and was promptly excommunicated for it.

While Pythea was of course interested in his methods, he also proved a somewhat sympathetic character. He’d used his knowledge to attempt to cure a woman afflicted with a wasting disease, and though she ultimately died, she did revive as a sentient undead. The two of them quickly fell in love (maybe before she died? I don’t remember), and he continued his work in order to try and restore her body and eventually overthrow the church that he had once belonged to. Rather than killing him, we persuaded him to give up trying to destroy the church (to placate the party members who cared about things like “morals” and “ethics”), and in turn we helped smuggle him and his lover to safety.

The whole campaign wound up being remarkably wholesome in the end, too. While she started out bitter and lonely, Pythea slowly did forge several genuine friendships over the course of the campaign, and managed to maintain them even into the epilogues. While she was still an objectively terrible person, her friends were considerably better. This lead to some positive character growth, with lots of potential for more in her future. Ultimately, I’d say things ended about as well as they could have for her, which is great. She really needed it.

In addition to playing the game, I kept a journal from Pythea’s perspective, which turned out to be a really good idea. I now have a permanent record of the game, which really helps the part of my brain that’s desperately afraid of losing things, and I can share it with others, too! And it feels great to have a finished product like that, like (somewhat) tangible proof that it all happened. It’s always nice to have created something, at the end of the day. I’d like to maybe get it bound one day; I’m planning to keep journals for all my campaigns henceforth and would like to collect them somewhere as they finish.

#I really love how the snarky necromancer turned out #It was a fun way to play the character #Made for a nice blend of serious evil and comedy #And it was oddly endearing in the end #She's a total bitch #But she's a total bitch that makes you want to pat her head

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snkpolls · 3 years

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SnK Episode 62 Poll Results (for Manga Readers)

The poll closed with 314 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Manga Readers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll, click here.

RATE THE EPISODE 303 Responses

There was an interesting contrast this week between anime only viewers’ and manga readers’ reaction to the episode. Anime only viewers overwhelmingly felt positively about the episode. But for manga manga readers, many of the cuts in the anime dampened their enjoyment of the episode, and for some ruined it entirely. Still, overall, the episode got positive reception, even if it wasn’t overwhelmingly enthusiastic.

a little rushed but still very enjoyable. it defo got the point across about Reiner's struggles

It was... Fine. I'll give it a solid 8/10 on emotional value and finally seeing these chapters animated. But accepting that the anime and manga are not the same and that there will be cuts is hard.

Wasn't very good. The cut scenes really hurt the pacing and overall story.

i thought the pacing was way too fast :(

Stunning. Beautiful

Another great episode. My only criticisms are the music that was used at the beginning of the episode, which didn't really work, and the cuts but I understand why that had to happen.

Disappointing

Impeccable. The adaption was both efficient and emotionally effective. Zero misses so far - I'm officially a MAPPA ho.

Really great! Feels different from the manga and makes me excited for future episodes, because even if it's not perfect, we will always have the original material + some fun new scenes that the anime is adding, can't wait for more

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 304 Responses

The much-anticipated scene where we learn amputee-kun is actually Eren was the most favored of the episode, with 37.5% of the vote. Following behind that with more narrow margins were the introduction to Marley’s titans, Annie and Reiner’s fight and Reiner’s suicide attempt.

The first part was very rushed and I wasn't as impressed by it. But I was very impressed by the second part of the episode once the warrior kids made it to paradise. I also very much enjoyed how they animated the scene of Annie taking out her anger on Reiner after Marcel's death. There was just something about the use of colours that really appealed to me.

The Reiner and Annie fight and Reiner's suicide disturbed me a lot more this time around, partially because I haven't read the chapters in a while, but this is easily one of my favorite episodes now.

WE GOT THE FULL ED LAST WEEK. AFTER SEEING IT IN ITS ENTIRETY, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT IT NOW? 294 Responses

The majority of the fandom are enjoying the new ending, with 65.6% loving both the song and the animation. 11.2% are enjoying the song… but not so much the animation. 11.9% feel that it’s “just okay.” Some are enjoying the animation, but not the song, and a few more dislike both.

The song and the animation are truly beautiful and gorgeous. I couldn't imagine better. It is always so peaceful after the full of emotions episode.

Beautiful song, although the bit with the streaks of shiny animation look like 480p and are a little boring.

I didn't see it

Bold of you to assume I watch the EDs and don't just skim ahead to the preview.

i'm not interested in the ending

There was a half ED?

ON A SCALE OF 1 TO 5, HOW MUCH DID YOU ENJOY THE SEQUENCE INTRODUCING ALL OF MARLEY’S TITANS? 303 Responses

A very tiny fraction of voters weren’t impressed with the way MAPPA executed the scene that introduces us to the Marley titans and why each warrior was picked for the titans they received. However, the majority of respondents felt very positively about the scene, with 221 even feeling they, too, will become a titan as a result of the awesomeness.

I really liked the marley titan montage but why the hell were the female titan's boobs so big? It looked so out of poportion

It was awesome and I loved the introduction to the Titans

OUT OF ALL THE TITANS THE MARLEY MILITARY HAD 9 YEARS AGO, WHICH ONE WOULD YOU WANT TO HAVE? 299 Responses

Whether it’s for practicality or aesthetic reasons, we all have different titans that appeal to us more than others. This race was a close one, with the Female Titan holding on just slightly over the Jaw Titan in terms of favoritism. The Armored Titan came in at a distant third with the Beast Titan and Colossal closely behind. Only a very small fraction would like to inherit the Cart Titan from Piku-chan.

WHICH OG WARRIOR CANDIDATE WOULD YOU WANT TO ADOPT? 299 Responses

Overall, the majority (29.1%) wouldn’t want to adopt any of the OG warrior crew, whether because the responsibility is too much or because they don’t like kids at all (or perhaps, a missing third option being they don’t like any of them). But for those who would happily take on one of the OG warrior kiddos, 24.1% would most like to take Reiner home (and probably give him lots of hugs). 21.1% adore little Pieck and would shower her with parental love forever. 9.7% probably want to pinch little Bertolt’s cheeks, and 8.4% wish they’d adopted Annie instead of her father.

A LOT OF THE SHIGANSHINA BREACH HAS REUSED WIT ANIMATION FROM PAST EPISODES - THOUGHTS? 303 Responses

The majority of respondents felt positively enough about seeing WIT’s S1 style mixed in with MAPPA’s, with 42.9% feeling it flowed together well enough, and 26.4% understanding why they didn’t reanimate the event (despite preferring it if they had). 11.2% don’t care at all, and 8.6% think it was way too jarring. There are some who are reminded that they miss WIT’s style, and others who have a continued appreciation for MAPPA.

KAJI YUKI HAS LOWERED HIS VOICE A BIT TO DEPICT AN OLDER EREN. THOUGHTS? 301 Responses

Overall, nearly everyone seems to be pleased with Kaji Yuki’s more “mature” sounding Eren, with 76.4% feeling he is portraying an older and more jaded Eren perfectly. 11.6% are lost in their lust for a 2D drawing and are focused entirely on that (we understand lol). A few are simply indifferent to the lower tone, and a smaller percentage just prefer Eren’s voice prior to the timeskip.

Anime onlys can spot him more difficult, which I like

Made sense to me, he’s not a teenager anymore after all, plus works better for this “new” Eren who’s less angry and shouty all the time.

I didn't even notice lol

Eren is adult so changing his voice was a very good choice. I like his new sound.

It was stupid that he ever talked so low before now. He was fifteen and he sounded like an adult, well they all do that bc it's standard anime shit but it makes it even harder when they become real adults.

NOW HE REALLY SOUNDS LIKE KENMA 🔥

WE’VE LOST COUNT OF HOW MANY TIMES WE’VE SEEN MARCEL GET EATEN. BUT OF THE OPTIONS BELOW, WHO DID IT BEST? 296 Responses

Seeing Marcel get eaten 2000 times seems to be a running gag at this point, so naturally we had to include this question. Whether it’s recency bias or objectively true, 44.6% feel that MAPPA’s take on Marcel’s death was the best. 30.4% feel that Isayama’s more recent art style truly does Marcel the most justice. 14.2% liked the way WIT Studio portrayed the scene and 10.8% like Isayama’s older, more grungy art style.

RIP Marcel

DO YOU THINK THAT REINER WAS CORRECT, THAT MARLEY WOULD HAVE HAD ALL OF RBA EATEN IF THEY HAD FOUND YMIR AND RETURNED HOME IMMEDIATELY? 292 Responses

In the hypothetical scenario that Reiner hadn’t convinced Annie and Bertolt to stay on the island, the majority feel that Reiner was wrong in his assessment that they would be executed practically on-site. 55.1% believe that the idea would have been out in the open, but ultimately rejected. Though, 35.6% feel that Marley is too ruthless and uncaring toward Eldians to care what the situation is, and would absolutely hand over their titans to others deemed more capable. Very few felt Marley would be understanding by default. Many write-ins feel that Reiner is the only one who would have been executed for the failure.

Depends on if B/A emphasize that it was Reiner’s fault rather than their own.

If all of RBA got eaten then I think they wouldn’t use kids for their next attempt. Maybe teens around the age RBA were after training in Paradis military

Magath would have pointed out how wasteful it would have been, but probably even him couldn't have saved reiner

He was wrong. What would be the point of feeding them to other children, if they were the best candidates? Too much of work.

Reiner said that there's a possibility that they couldn't find Ymir even if they try. He has a point. But I don't think Marley would have RBA eaten even if they lose Jaw.

They wouldn't go through with it because they seem to lack other qualified warrior candidates.

I think Magath and maybe Zeke would have tried to convince the government to not go through with it and that Reiner might have been the only one sacrificed.

Obviously. They would have indisputable proof that sending a bunch of kids to carry out a massively important mission is the dumbest shit they could have ever done and immediately they'd put the titans into older soldiers.

They'd let them live a few more years just for propaganda and used them for other battles, then they'd have them killed around their midterm.

Possibly, but they put a lot of time, effort, and money into training their warriors. It would be a big decision to execute all of them and start over. Maybe they would have executed Reiner as an example.

WHAT’S THE FORECAST FOR TONIGHT? 295 Responses

In our least-serious question of the poll, we asked you guys to try and predict the weather based on Bertolt’s sleeping pose. 18.3% believe his legs-on-the-wall pose means clear skies, 13.9% are certain it means rain. 13.6% are confident in an overcast night. At 11.5% foresee storms coming and 11.2% think it’s gonna be snow. 18% are probably just annoyed with the question. A few write-ins pointed out that Bertolt was, indeed, sleeping in the Hanged Man Pose.

It’s gonna be partly guilt ridden old man with a 90% chance of suicide by hanging

Blood and guts

HOW IS THAT EVEN COMFORTABLE?

Let's just call it hail

Hanged man posture, dreamed about the old man

raining titans

No one can make me like the warriors even if I don't blame them for what they were forced to do as kids. idc what quirky habits they have.

There'll be clear skies for some time but don't be deceived, heavy rain is incoming

This was amazing because it's a reference to The Hanging Man on Tarot cards: he's willingly being hanged for his sins. Look it up, it's so cool.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT MAPPA CUTTING A GOOD CHUNK OF REINER’S TRAINING? 302 Responses

With only 20(ish) minutes to fit in all of Reiner’s backstory, cuts were inevitable. MAPPA made the decision to nerf most of Reiner’s struggles training as a Warrior Cadet (among a couple other more lengthy scenes during and after the wall breach). 62.9% are sad that some of these scenes didn’t make the cut, but also understand that we can’t have it all. 13.2% actually preferred seeing Reiner’s backstory in MAPPA’s condensed version, while 12.9% feel it completely ruins the characterization of the warriors.

I don't even remember what was cut ��

Slightly ruined the warriors’ characterisations (especially Reiner’s)

I thought they could have shown a bit more about Reiner's underdog, it's something that really made me sympathise with him in the manga.

Kinda disappointed, since some scenes were essential for a little background on their lives

Honestly, even after all the cuts and the restrains it tells the story of a "warrior", Reiner.

Mappa fucked RBA backstory and I would bet it's because they are biased towards Eren and 104th...

I wouldn't say it ruined their characterisation, but it did leave it a lot more shallow. I would've loved to see those scenes animated, but I also realise that things will have to be cut to fit everything in, and I think these cuts still preserve the forward momentum of the story reasonably well.

The important scenes were animated, so it's good that way

MAPPA cannot animate every panel and the best will be, if fandom finally understands that. Every episode has limited amount of time and MAPPA is doing everything they can to make episodes good and easy to understand for anime onlies. I was fine with cutting because I know that episodes aren't long and there are more important stuff to animate than every part of training.

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT NOT SEEING ANNIE PARTICIPATING IN THE FIRST WALL BREACH? 298 Responses

MAPPA completely glossed over Annie’s role in the wall breach, showing her being choked by Reiner and then waking up in the refugee camp later. 40.9% state they would have preferred seeing Annie play her part in the mission, though they accept that it isn’t there. 34.6% are concerned that those who don’t read the manga will just be confused as to where Annie was during all of the chaos (Oh no! Did RB leave her passed out in the fields!?). 16.1% are simply just disappointed altogether. A small fraction felt it wasn’t necessary anyway and have no problems with the cut.

I feel kinda iffy about it because that was one of my favorite parts of the chapter, but oh well... it is what it is.

Kenny's scene should be eliminated.

I mean it's not like the female titan could destroy the walls herself. I think nobody expects it and then her absence makes sense

Yams did an oopsie in the first place retconing

It really confused me lol for a moment I completely forgot what she even did in the manga and had to reread

KNOWING NOW THAT ANNIE IS ACTUALLY ADOPTED, DOES THE JOKE ABOUT HER BEING KENNY’S LOST DAUGHTER HIT DIFFERENTLY NOW? 299 Responses

We learn after Annie comes out of the crystal that her father is actually an adoptive parent. Annie, in an attempt to cover up why she’s stalking Kenny in the underground, claims (or jokes) that she was born to a brothel worker and is Kenny’s lost daughter. We asked if this made the joke any less funny to readers, though most of them didn’t think so at all. Only 14% of respondents say the new knowledge actually makes it a little sad. Some people forgot entirely that Annie is adopted and voiced their confusion in the write-ins.

wait,,,,, she.,,,, she's adopted ??? wha- how did i completely forget about this

Kenny's gay anyway so it's impossible! Sorry, Annie :/

I don't really get this joke tbh 😅 Do people think she and Kenny look alike?

We're all Kenny's lost daughter

It just brings into question her true parentage, like how she can scream summon other Titans and if that’s a royal blood thing or not. But probably doesn’t matter since it hasn’t come up in the manga yet

I hadn't thought about it before today.

She's adopted?!?

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT MAPPA’S EXECUTION OF REINER’S ATTEMPTED SUICIDE? 302 Responses

With such a weighty scene, execution is of utmost importance. So we were curious if you guys felt that MAPPA hit the mark. Overall, MAPPA’s take on this scene got positive responses from the fandom, with 42.4% feeling they felt about the same as they did when the scene came up in the manga. 26.5% actually thought that MAPPA did a better job with the scene, whereas 26.2% felt that Isayama’s original take on the scene is still superior.

I think that while the manga's intent is for the reader to feel Reiner's pain and emotions during what he thought were his last moments, the anime focuses much more on making it disturbing and depressing (both taking into account the same things, just choosing to highlight different aspects of the scene). Not a bad change but I prefer the manga's portayal, it made me feel so much more attached to Reiner

Actual scene was good, but the build up was lacking.

I really liked the flipping back and forth

Not nearly as emotional as I expected

The lighting was so good in the anime version.

Bruh we needed the flashbacks cause they depicted Reiner's journey and regrets

I think it was more impactful in the manga, but MAPPA did it amazing too

The scene looked more serious but the building of the characters didn't live up for the moment.

It impacted me differently than in the manga. I prefer the manga scene, but the anime's was still really good

I was worried about it being overly censored so I’m glad it wasn’t

The execution was about the same, but it had a bigger impact when you read it for the first time

The drool was a great touch

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING CUTS WERE YOU DISAPPOINTED DIDN’T MAKE THE EPISODE? 292 Responses

While we shouldn’t dwell on cuts too much, there will still be things that people are disappointed didn’t make it into the anime. The scenes which were most missed this week were Annie’s role in the wall breach, Reiner passing along a tired Annie over to Bertolt atop the wall, RBA discussing their infiltration plans in the field (also known as the tree-uprooting scene), seeing Bertolt, Annie and Marcel surpassing Reiner in their training, and Reiner breaking up Eren and Jean’s fight (noticing Annie is exhausted). Well, at least the manga still exists, right?

I wish they didnt cut some of the flashbacks right before Reiner tried to kill himself.

Really great episode, but Bertholdt looking up at the wall before breaking it was such an iconic panel, I'm a bit sad

Any cuts are a negative. I dont care how much it makes sense for the anime onlies, I just wish they somehow incorporate some of the small slice of life scenes that made the Marley arc special.

Truly loved it despite cuts and pacing, but just wish we could’ve seen that tree uprooting scene!

I still hold the sentiment that Mappa is cutting way too much from these episodes. The amount of small details getting cut from every chapter/episode results in losing out on smaller moments that in my opinion have a real impact. While I understand a 1 to 1 replica might not be possible, the amount of cuts is too much imo. Missing out on nearly all of RBA assaulting Shiganshina was a huge disappointment, and less Falco and Gabi scenes makes it tough for me to connect to them. Talking to my Anime-only friends though, they are very into this season, so I'm glad to hear it works for them.

I'm not necessarily sad they cut so much, I feel like as an Anime only I wouldn't have noticed! The only thing I wish that had been kept was Annie's involvement in the destruction of wall Maria.

I was sad they cut stuff but that’s inevitable. The only cut I’m sad about is the scene before Bertholdt breaks the wall.

some of the cuts made sense, some made other scenes kind of occur out of nowhere, like annie with kenny.

SO FAR, WE’VE LOST A FEW INTERACTIONS BETWEEN FALCO AND GABI AND SOME MOMENTS WHERE FALCO IS BLUSHING OVER HER. DO YOU THINK THIS WILL LESSEN THE IMPACT OF HIS EVENTUAL LOVE CONFESSION TO HER? 296 Responses

While the Falbi romance isn’t a major focal point of the series, it does play a big part in their storyline and overall character development as their involvement in the plot increases. MAPPA has had to let a few scenes go, so we were curious if manga readers felt it would lessen the impact of Falco’s inevitable confession just before the rumbling starts. 31.4% feel that the anime is doing just fine at portraying Falco’s feelings. 28.4% feel the impact will be lessened, but that it’s fine due to it being a minor plot point anyway. 14.5% are upset about the missing pieces and 11.8% think MAPPA will make up for it later. Smaller groups of voters either don’t understand why Falco likes Gabi or just don’t care.

I'm more dissapointed about Zofia and Udo getting cut than those two.

Kid romance is lame anyway

It's not gonna hit like the manga but it's still pretty important plot imo

What works on paper doesn't always work animated, they're doing ok

I hate gabi gahh

It is obvious he likes her anyway

Not really, they've established he has a big crush on her since he pretty much came out and told it to Eren

DO YOU THINK MAPPA DID A GOOD JOB OF HIDING EREN IN PLAIN SIGHT? 297 Responses

We failed to ask this question last week, but it still applied well to this week’s episode. When it came to anime only fans, we wondered whether manga readers felt MAPPA did a good job at making him as mysterious to anime watchers as Isayama did to us manga readers. 40.1% felt that MAPPA did a great job, as many anime watchers didn’t seem to catch on. 25.6% feel that they didn’t do any worse or better than Isayama did. 13.8% feel MAPPA did not do as well as Isayama, as some anime watchers easily caught on. 9.4% think they did completely awful at pretending it’s not Eren. Some write-ins felt we couldn’t objectively judge this as we already knew it was Eren anyway.

I think the voice gave it away the most. The sneaky animation was great!

Hard to answer because chapters were a month apart while episodes are weekly and I’ve already read the manga when it came out

well, I can't say much about this. since I know he is eren, I was just focusing on how Kaji Yuki will handle this important speech

They even didn't try to hide him. I'm disappointed because I wanted anime onlines to feel what we - manga readers - felt, when after few chapters we found that the hobo man was Eren.

I honestly didn't even realize he was supposed to be hidden from the readers/viewers at this point. It was so obviously him in the manga and the anime. Genuinely confused by how many people did not catch on.

Watching some reactors they were like "...wait...that *looks* like Eren...but his leg is amputated...his leg would've grown back??" but as soon as you heard his voice it was instantaneous

I, being a manga reader, had a hard time getting how you couldn't see that it was Eren, but some of my friend only got it at the last scene.

Hard to say. WIth the manga, it took me a few reads to catch on, but now that I KNOW, it's hard to say anything.

Yes, I'm watching the episodes with my anime-only friend and he still hasn't figured it out

I think they did a good job, but with anime being the medium it was easier to guess due to both hair/eye color and voice.

It was nice, I was actually surprised that some of my anime only friends didn't even realize that it was Eren talking to Falco this episode

When Eren was finally revealed in the manga, I was *shocked! I had *no clue that was him! I think the anime did a great job, but of course had to reveal him sooner. It was perfect both in manga and anime imo.

It's obviously him once you see his eyes, but I don't think that the animation team were trying to make it a big shock reveal, they want this scene to say "this is probably Eren, but can you be 100% sure" to keep anime onlys engaged and reassure them that the main cast is still relevant.

Yes, but the manga hid him better, it took me way too long to realise it was him while reading

HOW WAS KAJI YUKI’S DELIVERY ON EREN’S SPEECH TO FALCO? 299 Responses

The vast majority of respondents were very pleased with Kaji Yuji’s delivery on one of Eren’s most prominent speeches. 38.1% felt it was exactly as they had hoped it would be. 28.1% were extremely happy, and feel that any delivery by Kaji Yuki as Eren will be 100% spot-on. 24.7% are simply just content with it. Smaller fragments of respondents just wanted to voice their thirst, or felt that the delivery could have been better.

Better than I could have ever imagined

I don't really care

Eren is the best main character ever

Not my native language so I can't really tell how good it is, but Kaji's delivery seemed about right

It was a bit fast but good

Very good. You get a real sense of how clueless but trying to be tough Eren really is.

EREN TELLS FALCO HE HOPES FALCO LIVES A LONG LIFE. KNOWING WHAT WE DO NOW, WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT HIM SAYING THIS? 298 Responses

Eren already knows he will bring destruction upon the world, so it’s a wonder why he would bother telling Falco he hopes Falco will have a long life. 64.8% believe that he truly means it from the bottom of his heart, despite knowing his future actions will likely affect Falco. 10.7% believe he said this because he has already seen that Falco will survive the Rumbling. 10.1% aren’t really sure what to make of it at all. Smaller numbers of people think Eren was only trying to gain Falco’s trust and didn’t mean it at all, or believe that Falco will take part in Eren’s eventual demise and Eren is already aware of that.

He saw him in his memories so imma believe what he says

I'm sure there is part of Eren that hopes for a good long life for Falco. Just like there was part of him that couldn't help but save the refugee kid. But that doesn't mean he isn't any less dedicated to his plan to genocide a whole lot of people. He has his conflicts, but in the end he's still going ahead with the attack on the square and later with the rumbling.

I think it's the same deal as him saving the immigrant kid when he knew that he would die in the rumbling.

In an ideal world Eren would want *everyone* to live a long life--he's been portrayed as someone who cries and disassociates while he commits his genocide so we're meant to understand he doesn't enjoy it. Sadly it doesn't matter what he hopes or wants when he's decided murdering everyone is what has to be done..

THE PREVIEW SHOWED PIECK AND PORCO NEXT TO REINER AT THE DAYTIME FESTIVAL. THIS WAS NOT IN THE MANGA. WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS MEANS ABOUT POSSIBLE ANIME-ONLY ADDITIONS? 298 Responses

Many of our respondents seem to be looking forward to Pieck and Porco’s inclusion in the daytime festival. 47% are hopeful that this will mean some wholesome bonding scenes between the Warriors and the kids. 26.5% don’t know what to make of it, but are looking forward to it nonetheless. A handful of people think it will be similar to how WIT included Sasha in the Clash arc - adding minor details without changing anything in the story-line. 7% wish that MAPPA wasn’t doing this at all, and 5% are hopeful this means that MAPPA will find a way to repurpose Pieck crawling on all fours next episode.

I still want Pieck butt

IN THAT SAME VEIN, IT SEEMS LIKE EPISODE 4 WILL ADAPT CHAPTERS 97 AND 98, ENDING ON THE FINAL PANEL OF 98. HOWEVER, THE VAST MAJORITY OF CHAPTER 97 WAS ALREADY ADAPTED IN LAST WEEK’S EPISODE. WHAT WILL THIS MEAN FOR EPISODE 4? 293 Responses

Who wants to place bets on the contents of next episode? While the largest chunk of people don’t know what to expect in episode 4, others are happy to speculate. 19.8% feel (or are at least hopeful) that MAPPA will fill in some screen time by repurposing already-skipped scenes. 19.1% feel that there will be minor additions, but not too much. A solid 16% feel that there will be a few anime only additions during the daytime festival. 10.9% are placing bets that episode 4 will actually bleed into chapter 100 before the end.

Mappa won't have to cut a lot of stuff like they did to ep 3

The title "From One Hand to Another" immediately made me think we would actually be getting Eren grasping Reiner's hand and transforming at the end (meaning chapters 100 and 101), but that's just so much. The title may just refer to Magath and Willy's handshake.

What about just enjoying the show?

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 298 Responses

As expected of the fandom! Reiner and Eren’s reunion is the most anticipated scene for episode 4, with 74.8% having voted for that. 17.1% are most looking forward to the daytime festival, and 6% are excited to meet Willy in anime form for the first time. One commenter is very invested in the banquet and how it’s executed.

Not this ep but if they cut the Udo and Kiyomi scene I'll RIOT!

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I'm upset so much was cut from Reiner's backstory but the cinematography is freakin' excellent I can't even complain

*cheers MAPPA animators for their hard work* ... Perfect for anime onlies, I think. Made me almost wish I hadn't read the manga so I wouldn't have missed the cut scenes.

Cuts aside, the animation was much better than the previous episodes.

"The one scene I really wanted was Bertholdt looking over the wall and seeing the EMA trio. Of all the cuts, I think that was the only one that was damaging to the story. I also kind of wish that MAPPA animated the reused scenes. I kind of like comparing and contrasting the animation styles of both studios so its a bit of shame that we didn't get anything new from Episode 1.

I'm really impressed with how much MAPPA is managing to squeeze in each episode and I'm content that Reiner's flashback was covered in a single episode rather than two. It just makes sense pacing-wise. The only real criticism I have is that in the flashback scenes where everyone is supposed to be 12 years old, they don't sound 12 at all. Their voices are way too mature, especially the males, and I understand they're voiced by adults, but I feel like they could have at least tried to sound more like kids. Other than that, great episode.

Elaborating on the missing content: they really shouldn’t have cut Annie’s transformation prior to wall Maria being breached. It makes it look like Reiner choked her out and then a minute later bert was kicking the wall through.

I'm in the boat, where i think it wouldve been better if Mappa didnt cut out so much, but considering what there is to cover, we will live,but i hope they dont end up butchering everything Also the bit with reiner’s dad would be confusing to anime-onlies since it cross-cuts between that scene and him on the parade. I’ve seen some reactors think it was a daydream, or that he left during the parade.

It was quite rushed, but I understand why they did it, the flashback wouldn't have been as impactful over 2 episodes, and I do think when the Marley arc was first introduced in the manga, manga readers were quite inpatient to get back to the main cast, so they might be feeding off that feedback.

Mappa has become my favorite studio of all time. Not just in regards to anime, but studios in general. Their discography is on another level (imo) and the fact that on top of every other masterpiece they’ve made, they’re doing an outstanding job with my favorite series of all time just solidifies them as the first and probably the only anime studio that I can truly Stan.

Lots of (I think) Important stuff cut, but the meat is still in place. I like my meat to be juicy and marbled, while Mappa cut out all the fat that makes for a flavorful meal. I completely understand why and I am apathetic about it.

disliked the fact the wall breach was so quickly glossed over, and the transition between mappa and wit style was jarring to say the least

Regardless of the cuts, i think it flows together nicely. The anime has always been more speedy than the manga so i kind of expected this. I don't think it'll get as bad as s3 part 1 in terms of pacing. I trust in Mappa, so far i haven't been disappointed at all. The animation and backgrounds are absolutely stunning. That warrior titan sequence was incredibly well done. Props to the animators!

It was a bit confusing mishmash of scenes, but there were some good moments sprinkled in like the introduction of all of Marley's titans. The emotional reactions, however, just weren't the same as they were when reading the manga, to be honest.

I’m really glad they cut the part with RBA hanging onto Female/Armoured neck by a rope. That whole thing seemed stupid to me. Doesn’t match up with previous chapters and I feel like SOMEONE would have noticed two kids hanging onto the Armoured Titan’s neck.

I think MAPPA is doing a really good job so far, can't wait to see the battle in Liberio. I'm not bothered at all with the CG titans because firstly, they look really good, and secondly, I understand why they had to do it. I also hope they don't censor many things or cut out some dark scenes that are important to the season because I would love to see everything animated.

Felt like watching a recap episode... And it wasn't supposed to be one, so

I'm really dissapointed that mappa cut so many things from manga. Reiner's backstory is my favoure part of snk. Suicide scene completly lacks impact.

I really dislike the fact that MAPPA is trying to show only bad side of the marleyan officers. They removed the gate guards, they removed the scene where Magath is telling RBA to stay safe (on Paradis). One of the best parts of the manga is showing that the both races (Eldians and Marleyans) have good and bad sides. By removing positive aspects of Marleyans MAPPA is creating totally different picture. This way the anime onlines may find the whole rumbling even more justified. The episode was pretty good and the OST has made some scenes to feel more dark and serious (especially the moment where the new titans are introduced), but sometimes I feel like the characters are speaking and acting way too fast. I was waiting for the scene with Kenny and Annie, but it took only like few second and was cut. I love MAPPA's version of Kenny. He has more serious aura and looks more like his manga counterpart. In other words; wrinkled grandpa with skinny neck :)

It honestly wasn’t my favorite, but I still loved it. I feel as though they skipped around a lot and there wasn’t a lot of scenes that actually tied together and I’m worried anime only watchers might get confused. Definitely some of the stuff I wanted to see animated didn’t make the cut, but I still love the animation style, the characters and the story!

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 285 Responses

Thank you to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again next episode.

#snk poll #snk polls #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #snk spoilers #snk s4

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vampire-the-askerade · 3 years

Note

Beckett + 1,2 and 12 - 15 please? Like waking up together and exchanging a bunch of tiny kisses all over

The process of reanimating for the evening was a bit more of an ordeal than one might think. And, for whatever unexplained reason or the other that perhaps even the oldest and wisest kindred might not even know, some nights the process was more painful than others. Tonight was one such night for you. It wasn't unbearable, but it wasn't pleasant either. Then again a series of aches and pains rippling through your body wasn't something that was expected to be enjoyable in most cases. While not debilitating, the pain was enough to make you want to lie still for a bit and recover from the process a bit.

While you were lying there with your eyes still closed you suddenly felt a multitude of tiny kisses assaulting various places on your face. You opened to your eyes to see amber, animalistic ones, that held a soft look in the that could be taken as adoration. "Having another difficult time with things tonight?" Becket questioned as he sat back a bit to make sure that you didn't feel smothered. "Yes, but I hadn't moved or anything yet. How did you know that I was awake?" Your question caused him to smirk like he had a great secret that he was hiding from you.

"What?" you prodded trying to figure out what he was hiding. "Oh, nothing. I just know these things." Beckett snicker as he sits up a bit more. "Tell me!" you huff because at this point wanted to know not only because you were curious, but also because you were afraid that it was something horribly embarrassing. "Perhaps I will some other time." He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before going to stand up.

You, however, were quick to grab his arm and pull him back down to the bed; a notion that he had no argument against. "Come on, Beckett!" you whined as you flopped your whole body weight on top of him in a fruitless effort to pin him there until you got an answer. "Please, dear, there are some things that I would like to have to myself, you know." Beckett teased knowing how much not knowing this hidden information was taunting you with its mystery. "Please!" You begged as you gave his nose a kiss causing him to scrunch it up and laugh a bit.

"Whining will get you nowhere." Beckett scolds playfully before flipping you over so that you're lying stomach-down on the bed and he's the one pinning you down. He started a trail of kisses up your back until he got to the area between your shoulder blades, where he mumbled into your shirt, "Would you really like to know how I knew that you were around for the evening?" By this point, you were so frustrated that you just gave a grouchy huff. With another chuckle, he began kissing across your shoulders and up your neck until he reached the back of your ear. After giving it a small kiss he hummed in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper, "It's your breathing. That seems to be a habit from when you were human that you're having trouble breaking. Rather adorable, really."

This was by no means anything scandalous like you were thinking, but the way he teased you about it did fluster you a bit. But, before you could dwell on it for very long Beckett turned you over so you were looking at him again; mischief beaming dangerously in his eyes. "Now, I believe that I've kissed you just about everywhere except for your lips, which is something that I have to fix immediately."

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kirk-spock-in-the-impala · 4 years

Text

Follow You Down (15 of 15)

CHAPTER 15: VESEMIR (Part Three)

CW: Mentions of the past death of a child; mentions of the sacking of Kaer Morhen

ON AO3 HERE; approximately 11,500 words under the cut.

As winter deepened its hold the keep, the pace of work within it slowed. With the major structural repairs and food preservation tasks completed, the witchers focused on the smaller tasks that would prepare them for the season to come. As blizzards whipped snow into high drifts and ice coated the windows, Kaer Morhen’s inhabitants tucked in by the fire, assembling bombs, grinding potion ingredients, repairing armor, and carefully weaving together thick, sturdy fabric to sew replacement tunics and trousers. There was also always laundry and cleaning to be done, tasks divided between the younger witchers and Jaskier, but Vesemir kept strict control over the cooking, allowing assistance only on occasion and never from Lambert.

As the longest nights passed by and the days started to lengthen again, Vesemir and Geralt resumed their usual tasks together in the library, inspecting the ancient tomes for mold and booklice, rebinding crumbling spines, and updating bestiaries with that season’s new knowledge. They worked in silence together in the quiet library, sitting beneath the window at opposite sides of the heavy worktable. Each day brought a greater sense of normalcy and Geralt started to truly believe the progress he had made with Vesemir would stick.

Over the past weeks, Geralt had noticed how closely Vesemir observed them when he knelt for one of his brothers or for Jaskier, how he never moved to participate but also how he never objected either. He wanted to have that with Vesemir as well, the simple comfort of being wholly himself in front of his family. He had a feeling Vesemir needed it too. He had an even stronger feeling that Vesemir would never ask for it.

One day in the library, Geralt resolved to make the first move.

Slowly, quietly, Geralt rose from his seat and closed the bestiary he’d been updating, tucking it under his arm, his quill and inkpot held carefully in his other hand. Vesemir looked up at him questioningly, it was far too early for them to break for the day, and he almost lost his resolve and returned to his seat. But he steeled himself and stepped to Vesemir’s side, sinking down to his knees on the threadbare rug and leaning against the arm of Vesemir’s wooden chair.

Vesemir froze.

Geralt forced himself to project an air of nonchalance, strictly controlling his breathing and heartrate. He wouldn’t give Vesemir any reason to think he was afraid. And, if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t. He was afraid of Vesemir’s rejection, not of Vesemir himself. Even the many times he had been strapped to the wooden cross, the cat-o-nine-tails singing in Vesemir’s hand, he’d been afraid of the whip, of the agony to come, but never of Vesemir. Even through the fog of pain and forced drop, he could tell Vesemir got no enjoyment out of it -- he had smelled far more of resigned despair than of bloodlust.

Drawing in a fortifying breath, Geralt reached out and dragged his chair over, wooden legs scraping on the stone, then lay the bestiary and inkwell on it, and took back up his quill to return to his task. For a long moment, the only sound in the library was the scratch of Geralt’s quill on ancient vellum. Geralt couldn’t even hear Vesemir breathe, but he did hear his heart pounding in his chest, far faster than a witcher’s normal sedate pace.

Geralt kept working as if nothing had changed and Vesemir gradually, tentatively, reanimated, his breath starting again with a quiet gasp and his fingers trembling as they turned the pages of the quarto before him, inspecting each page for damage.

They stayed that way until the shadows stretched across the room and the stone walls glowed red from the sunset.

“Time for me to start making dinner.” Vesemir said, breaking the silence for the first time. “Finish checking the quarto and then join me.”

“Yes, Vesemir.” Geralt said, rising and placing his book and inkwell back on the table. He had made good progress with his updates and would likely finish tomorrow.

Vesemir stood and headed out of the room, pausing as he reached the door, his hand on the pull. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. This time, it was Geralt whose breath froze in his chest.

Vesemir cleared his throat and spoke to the door. “Tomorrow, bring a cushion.”

Geralt’s breath unlocked and a smile spread across his face as he watched Vesemir leave. He stood there for a moment, letting the relief wash over him, before shaking himself and taking Vesemir’s seat to inspect the rest of the quarto.

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

On a rare, warm day, a preview of the spring to come after the last, dragging weeks of winter finally passed, Vesemir roused his wolves to spar, instructing them to clear the courtyard and prepare to practice their skills. While they ran through their footwork and sword patterns indoors throughout the winter, in a spot in the main hall set aside solely for that purpose, true sparring could only happen outdoors. They were not about to waste the opportunity.

Eager to stretch their legs and burn off energy, the three young witchers jumped to the task, burning away the snow and ice with controlled blasts of Aard and Igni, sweeping away the resulting water before it could freeze again. Vesemir and Jaskier observed from a distance, cradling mugs of warm ale.

When the inner courtyard was clear, the three men stripped off their tunics, leaving them bare to the waist, vibrant sleeve tattoos on full display. Unlike Geralt, whose arm was fully covered in intricate runic tattoos and marred by burn scars, his submissive’s cuff rendered completely invisible, the Dominant stripes on his brothers’ arms were given pride of place at the center of their tattoos, the complex runic weaving surrounding them serving to highlight rather than to hide.

As he studied them, Jaskier was suddenly struck by the physical differences between Geralt and his Dominant brothers, made only more obvious without the padding of winter tunics. Together like this, no one could mistake Geralt for anything but a submissive. While he was massive compared to the average man, especially in terms of his musculature, he was markedly leaner and lither than his brothers, both the shortest of the three, though not by much, and decidedly the least broad. Eskel was built like a bear, thick, heavy muscles bulking out his colossal frame and Lambert, though more compact than Eskel, also cut an impressively large figure. If Geralt stood behind either one, he would be completely hidden from sight.

Jaskier’s realization must have shown on his face because Vesemir commented on his train of thought.

“We suspected he was a submissive before he ever presented.” Vesemir said quietly, watching the three as they stretched and warmed up, Geralt first braiding back his long, white hair. “He always was smaller and lighter than the rest of them.”

“Did you train him any differently because of that?” Jaskier asked, careful to phrase the question delicately. The chance to observe Vesemir all winter, especially the way he cared for his wolves, had cooled Jaskier’s ire and he wanted to give Vesemir a fair chance to show his true character.

Vesemir hummed, considering the question. Geralt had clearly picked up that habit from him. “Yes and no.” He said finally. “The basic training for all witcher trainees was the same. We never bothered to train to each boy’s particular strengths and weaknesses until after they completed the first Trial.”

Jaskier drew in a sharp breath but Vesemir pressed on. It was common knowledge that most boys died in the Trial of the Grasses, and that even more fell in the two subsequent Trials over the following years.

“But once a young witcher reached the more advanced stages of training, we tailored each boy’s program to capitalize on their strengths and shore up their weaknesses.” Vesemir explained. “Eskel is strong magically, so we had a mage tutor him to maximize his potential power, but he struggled with ranged weapons and needed extra training with our archery instructor. By contrast, Lambert excels with ranged weapons, so we taught him how to create an advantage in battle by striking first from a distance, but he needed extra work controlling his temper in hand-to-hand combat.”

“And Geralt?”

“Geralt is our best swordsman by far. Because he’s smaller and lighter, he’s more flexible and able to execute moves in a smaller space than the others. Makes him quick as anything.” Vesemir said. “And after he went through the additional round of experimental Trials, his weaknesses disappeared. As to his fighting ability at least. He was still vulnerable to a Dominant’s Voice, so I worked with him to learn to resist it.”

“Why you, specifically?” Jaskier asked.

“Because I was the only one who truly wanted him to survive on the Path.” Vesemir said bluntly.

Jaskier blanched, turning fully to face Vesemir. He moved to question Vesemir, but Vesemir spoke before he could.

“There had never before been a submissive witcher. We trained every boy who came to the keep, and some were submissives, but no submissive had ever before survived the Trial of the Grasses. The other trainers thought the effort put into him was wasted, that he would fall to any Dominant he encountered.” Vesemir said, face pinched at the memory. “But that boy wouldn’t give in, he just kept excelling. But even after he survived the experimental Trials, the other trainers didn’t believe he would survive the Path. Figured he was a proof of concept, a way to show the experimental Trials could be added successfully to the program, but that was it. Didn’t think he was worth the effort of any specialized training.”

“But if you put in all that extra effort to train him to resist a Dominant’s Voice, why were you so afraid he would still fall under a Dominant’s thrall?” Jaskier asked pointedly, raising a question he’d long carried and knew Geralt couldn’t answer.

“Because we could never field test it. In the end, he was able to resist all the Dominants in the keep, at least under testing conditions, but I knew there were stronger, more malicious Dominants out there, ones who would truly wish him harm. The other trainers were indifferent to his fate, but they didn’t actively seek to kill him. A Dominant monster, or a human seeking to conquer a witcher, would have such an intent. That gives power to a Dominant’s Voice in a way we couldn’t replicate.” Vesemir said, heavy with regret.

“So, you couldn’t be sure it would work outside these walls. That’s why you warned him to keep his designation a secret. It was to protect him.” Jaskier said, completing the thought.

Vesemir nodded. “The secrecy was my idea. Although we encouraged our Dominant witchers to fulfill their needs in brothels, going so far as to provide training in how to engage safely with a fragile, human submissive, I thought it was better to take care of Geralt in-house, where it was safe for him to drop, rather than to risk him getting killed -- or worse, compelled to act as a weapon -- by some unscrupulous Dominant on the outside.”

“But why prevent Eskel and Lambert from helping him? Didn’t they used to guide him down when they were children together?” Jaskier asked, voicing the question that Geralt would never dare ask for fear of sowing discord between Vesemir and his brothers.

Vesemir sighed, suddenly seeming old in a way he never had before, despite his over four centuries of life, his gaze resting heavily on Geralt’s back where the thick scars were on full display as he stretched.

“When I learned to guide a submissive down, the only known ways to do it were to fuck them or to beat them, having the submissive count the strikes to induce the drop. That’s what we taught our trainees, though we instructed them to only use the sexual method and only in brothels or with truly willing partners. We would, on occasion, seek guidance from the Madame in the brothel in the village below the keep, but each time our understanding was confirmed – the sexual method was the only way for a witcher to drop one of their submissives.” Vesemir said, staring off into the middle distance, lost in the memories. “I saw what Eskel and Lambert did with Geralt, but it was the actions of children, insufficient to drop him fully and far from enough to fulfill his biological needs once he matured. And so, once they were older, I stopped it. Their brotherly bond was strong, and I didn’t want it damaged, not when I thought I could take care of Geralt’s needs myself.”

Jaskier frowned, considering Vesemir’s words. It painted a tragic picture of fear, sacrifice, and hurt, drawn out over decades. Vesemir had been convinced there was no gentle, familial way to drop a submissive and, not wanting to risk Geralt falling to harm out on the Path, had insisted he only drop in the safety of Kaer Morhen. Because of the brutality of the act, Vesemir had taken it upon himself, unwilling to share the burden with Geralt’s brothers.

It was as misguided as it was well-intentioned. It didn’t erase the damage done to Geralt, nothing could, but Jaskier felt most of his anger fade away, replaced by a reluctant confidence that Vesemir would never revert to his old patterns of behavior. That Geralt’s choice to reconcile with Vesemir would not cause him further harm now that they had both seen the damage caused by the system in which they were each raised.

Vesemir must have seen the understanding on his face because he turned away, expression tight, and fixed his attention on the training.

“Boys! Specialized exercises first, then we’ll spar.” Vesemir called out. Three heads snapped up, jarred out of their eavesdropping on Jaskier and Vesemir’s conversation, and they each nodded, turning to attend to their tasks. Lambert jogged over to the targets and collected a cross bow. Eskel moved into a wide-open space and started to practice his signs, showing off his exquisite control as he used Igni to form intricate patterns of fire in the air.

Geralt hopped up on the pendulum, taking a practice sword in hand and tying a cloth around his eyes before starting the mechanism, sending the three pendulums swinging over the pillars below. With a deep breath, Geralt leapt past the first pendulum, twisting in the air to deliver a blow to the strike pad before landing neatly on one foot on the pillar beyond, then dropping flat to avoid a strike from the second pendulum. His heart pounded in his chest as his blood lit, the familiar exercise lifting his spirits and loosening his muscles, tightened after the long weeks spent locked indoors. He could feel Jaskier’s gaze on him and threw in some extra fancy footwork, reveling in each gasp of awe he drew out.

After hearing Vesemir’s explanation, prompted by Jaskier, he felt light in a way he never had before, as if slotting in those missing pieces allowed him to finally, truly accept that that part of his life was over. That a new, better pattern, one in which they were able to fulfill each other’s needs safely and gently, was truly possible.

Geralt could hear Jaskier and Vesemir’s conversation continue as he ran through his exercises, but he let the words flow through his mind unheard, focusing instead on the elation of his physical prowess, letting his body drive all thought from his mind. He’d already heard what he needed to hear.

“I see what you mean.” Jaskier said to Vesemir, amazement in his voice. “I knew he was a skilled swordsman, but I’ve never seen him move like this. Usually, I’m either too far from the fight to see it any detail or I’m more concerned with his potential imminent death than his footwork.”

Vesemir huffed. From another man, it might have been a laugh. “He’s showing off. Flashy and acrobatic, but not much good in a real fight. As a youngster, I had to work with him to focus his strength in his blows, rather than just flitting about.”

They watched Geralt spar with the pendulums for a long moment, each lost in thought.

“I’m starting to understand why Geralt insisted on reconciling with you, despite the harm you caused him.” Jaskier said, breaking the silence.

“I don’t deserve his forgiveness. My ignorance was no excuse for my actions.” Vesemir said flatly, turning away.

Jaskier was struck then by how similar Vesemir and Geralt truly were. They each lived driven by the need to care for others and didn’t believe their errors in judgment, whether inconsequential or profoundly damaging, could ever deserve to be forgiven. He knew the guilt for his actions would never leave Vesemir, and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to believe it should, but he knew that guilt didn’t have to define their future relationship if Vesemir repented and changed his ways. If he directed the love and protectiveness that had driven him to act as he did into more positive and constructive means.

“I understand why you handled Geralt’s needs as you did.” Jaskier said. “You were trying to protect him in the best way you knew.”

“That doesn’t absolve me.” Vesemir said firmly, jaw clenching.

“No, it doesn’t.” Jaskier said, firmly but not unkindly. “But it means you can change. He has centuries of life left and I will only be around for part of that.” Jaskier turned and forced Vesemir to meet his gaze. “And I am trusting you, and his brothers, to care for him when I am gone.”

Vesemir nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Jaskier’s. He considered him for a long moment before his posture eased, some of the long-held tension slipping away. “We will.” Vesemir said finally. “We have learned much from you this winter.”

“I trust you won’t forget it.” Jaskier said, eyes hard.

“He will never find pain at my hands again.” Vesemir vowed. “I do not yet know what else I can offer him, but that, at least, I am certain of.”

Jaskier found nothing but truth and repentance in Vesemir’s expression. He smiled and stepped back, breaking the moment. The air between them cleared and lightened.

Vesemir gave a sharp nod and strode forward, giving a sharp whistle to draw the other three witchers’ attention back to him.

“Form up!” He called out. Eskel and Lambert jogged over and Geralt executed one last twisting flip off the pendulum and onto the ground, tucking the blindfold back in his pocket and returning the wooden sword to its hook before shutting off the pendulum’s mechanism and coming over to join his brothers.

“We’ll start with one-on-one matches. I expect to see clean hits and good footwork. Signs are allowed but the matches will be bare-handed. Eskel and Geralt will fight first, then Lambert will face the winner. Matches are to the yield.” Vesemir instructed.

Geralt and Eskel stepped forward, facing each other. Lambert stepped back beside Jaskier.

“This will be a show. Geralt boings about and Eskel barely moves, the lug.” Lambert said under his breath to Jaskier.

Vesemir reached around Jaskier to cuff Lambert gently on the back of the head. “Watch and learn, boy. Your footwork could benefit from Geralt’s tutelage.”

Lambert scoffed but subsided, watching the match with an intent that belied his relaxed posture.

With a nod from Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel leapt toward each other, Geralt pirouetting around Eskel’s Aard blast and using his centrifugal force to aim a high kick at Eskel’s back. Eskel dropped into a crouch, avoiding the blow and raising a Quen shield. Geralt let his leg complete the kick, blending the force of the miss into a one-handed front flip, landing and rolling away from the exploding force of Eskel’s shield. Eskel rushed him, casting a quick Axii to disorient Geralt and landing an open-handed blow to the side of his head, stunning him and sending him careening off to the left in an uncontrolled tumble.

Geralt’s back smacked into the outer wall and knocked him out of his daze. With a firm shake of his head, he sprang to his feet, scowling at Eskel.

“That hurt, asshole!” Geralt growled at him, rubbing the side of his head.

Eskel grinned, crooking one finger at Geralt in challenge.

“Don’t get distracted by his Signs, Geralt!” Vesemir instructed. “He’s been dropping you with that move since you were children!”

Geralt’s scowl deepened and he charged forward at Eskel, dropping into a rolling dodge just as he got within range, springing up off his hands and twisting to land right behind Eskel, striking out to kick his legs out from under him. Eskel turned away from Geralt’s hit, deflecting some of the force. He stumbled, but kept his feet, pressing a Yrden trap into the ground to slow Geralt’s quick movements. Eskel knew he couldn’t match Geralt’s speed, and in a Sign-free fight, he would always lose, but he was a strategist and a powerful mage in his own right and used that to his advantage.

Geralt grit his teeth, roaring out a noise of pure frustration as he fought Yrden’s hold. Eskel went for another open-handed hit and this time Geralt dodged, dropping flat to his belly and log rolling out of the range of Yrden’s trap, casting a powerful blast of Igni before he regained his feet. With his own movements slowed by the trap he stood within, Eskel couldn’t raise a shield in time and barely managed to raise his arms to protect his face from the flames. As this was a spar, the blast was quick and weak, designed to strike but not to injure.

Lambert tossed a bucket of ice-cold water on Eskel nonetheless. Eskel stood there, smoking and soaked, staring at Geralt with a furious expression. Geralt was utterly unrepentant, high on his successful hit. They were tied now, one good hit each.

Geralt gave Eskel a mocking bow, then took his ready position, crooking one finger at Eskel in a return challenge.

Eskel shook his head sharply to clear the water and strode forward slowly, arms raised in defense. Ice cracked along the courtyard walls and they sprung at each other, clashing in the middle, Geralt’s striking blow against Eskel’s block. Eskel was stronger and forced Geralt back, following with a kick that Geralt ducked under, snaking under Eskel’s defense to land a hard upper-cut blow to his chin. Eskel staggered back but recovered quickly, sinking into a solid stance and blasting Geralt with a short-range Aard. The blast threw Geralt back and he barely managed to twist in the air before he hit the wall again, this time feet first, and pushed off it land just outside Eskel’s strike zone.

Geralt stepped in quickly, feinting with a right hook before turning the dodged blow into a hard, spinning kick. Eskel blocked it with Quen and Geralt pirouetted out of range of shield’s exploding blast, casting an Aard blast of his own up into Eskel’s chest, lunging forward when he staggered and stopping short with the blade of his hand pressed into Eskel’s throat. If he’d followed through, the blow would have crushed Eskel’s windpipe.

Eskel huffed but dropped his guard. “I yield.”

Geralt grinned, thrilled with his victory. Battles against Eskel were hard-fought and he won and lost in equal measure. They knew each other well and, as a battle pair, were unstoppable.

Eskel reached out to draw Geralt into a one-armed embrace, ruffling his hair and laughing when Geralt flailed in protest. “Your victory this time, little brother.”

“You’re getting slow, old man.” Geralt teased, dodging out of the way of a cuff with a laugh.

Geralt strode up to face Lambert, bowing in a mockery of a duelist’s bow. “Are you ready for our promised bout?” Geralt asked, reminding Lambert of their promise in Vizima.

“About fucking time.” Lambert said, brushing past Geralt with a hard knock to his shoulder. He took Eskel’s old spot and stood ready to face Geralt.

Geralt rolled his eyes but followed, taking his position opposite Lambert. They both looked to Vesemir for the signal.

“No Signs for this match.” Vesemir instructed. “Lambert, focus on your footwork. And mind your temper!”

“I’m not a child anymore, Vesemir!” Lambert protested. “You don’t need to tell me what to do!”

“I’ll stop telling you when the lesson starts sticking.” Vesemir said, arching a stern eyebrow.

Lambert scowled, turning back to Geralt with a huff. “Don’t you start!” He said sharply when Geralt fought to keep a straight face.

“Do your best, Lambert! It’s your epic battle ‘on the fields of your youth’!” Jaskier called out, teasing Lambert for the overly flowery language he’d used to challenge Geralt back in Vizima.

Lambert tossed him an obscene gesture and took up his stance. He had yet to win a bout against Geralt hand-to-hand, but he got better every year and Geralt needed to focus. He assumed his own stance, mirroring Lambert’s pose, and took a deep breath, narrowing his focus to the task at hand.

At Vesemir’s nod, Lambert surged forward, dropping low and striking high and hard, forcing Geralt to twist out of the way. Like Eskel, Lambert had the advantage of size and strength, though the margin was smaller with him, and Geralt couldn’t afford to take a strong blow head-on. The trick with Lambert was to get his temper up. When he was angry, he was careless, and that's why he’d yet to win against Geralt.

Before Lambert could recover from the miss, Geralt spun behind him, poking his shoulder as he went by. Lambert twisted toward him with a snarl and Geralt dodged back out of the way, deflecting Lambert’s roundhouse kick and using the momentum to bring them close together. Geralt blocked a close hit from Lambert’s free arm and leaned in to plant a wet lick on the tip of Lambert’s nose before dropping down and rolling out of the way, taking a glancing blow to the ribs for his cheek.

Lambert’s face twisted in disgust and he rubbed his nose on his bare forearm.

“Mind your temper now, Lambert.” Geralt said, taking on the tone of an especially condescending instructor.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking get you for that!” Lambert shouted, charging forward at Geralt. Geralt wasn’t ready, too focused on teasing Lambert, and barely managed to dodge the first strike, dropping down under the punch and then springing up inside Lambert’s guard, headbutting him in the chest.

Lambert coughed, the wind knocked out of him, and Geralt tweaked his ear before dodging back out of range.

“You are such a little shit.” Lambert gasped, his temper fraying.

“And you’re predictable. Easy to distract and easy to anger.” Geralt said with a grin. “That’s why you can’t beat me!”

Lambert blanched and then his eyes darkened, rage twisting his expression. Geralt’s brows furrowed, suddenly concerned he’d pushed too far. Lambert had always gotten angry, it was basically his default state of being, but Geralt had never seen actual rage on his face during one of their bouts, much less that brief flash of shocked hurt. He couldn’t help but feel he’d unintentionally poked at a sore spot, causing far more harm than he’d intended.

He saw Vesemir tense out of the corner of his eye and Eskel stepped forward as if to come between them. They’d both seen the shift in Lambert’s mood.

“Lambert, forgive me, I didn’t mean -” Geralt started, dropping his stance and raising his hands. He knew something was wrong, something must have happened after they saw Lambert in the fall, something that hurt him badly and he’d just unintentionally pressed salt into that unknown wound. He wanted to make it right.

Lambert charged, striking out hard toward Geralt’s chest. Geralt twisted around the blow, retreating with his hands raised. Lambert followed, striking out hard with two quick punches. Geralt ducked under one and deflected the next, using the force to roll away from Lambert.

“Stop running away!” Lambert roared, rushing Geralt with his fist raised. Geralt sprang backwards, dodging the wide blow.

“Lambert, it’s enough!” Geralt said, raising his hands.

“No, it’s not enough! It won’t be enough until I beat you!” Lambert yelled back, feinting another straight punch and following it with a twisting kick. Geralt caught Lambert’s leg, using the momentum to spin Lambert around and away. Lambert’s blows were getting stronger and increasingly uncoordinated. There was a fragility in his expression that belied his anger. Like when he was hurt as a child and acted out rather than show he’d been wounded.

Lambert spun back to face Geralt, sinking into his stance. “Fight me!” He shouted, stepping forward and shoving Geralt back when he wouldn’t raise his own stance. He followed with a left hook and Geralt dodged again, spinning back out of the way.

Eskel intervened, putting a hand on Lambert’s shoulder that was quickly shrugged off. “Fucking FIGHT ME!” Lambert roared, expression twisted with rage and hurt, Dominant’s Voice lending commanding weight to his words.

Lambert’s Voice struck Geralt like a blow. He’d never heard it directed at him in anger and it scraped against his senses. It hurt, knowing Lambert would use that against him, but, like with the werewolf in Daevon, he felt no compulsion to obey.

Geralt dropped his hands, coming to a neutral stance. His brow furrowed and a cold weight settled in his chest. It felt as if time had stopped moving.

“No, Lambert.” Geralt said quietly. “I won’t fight you, not like this.”

Lambert dropped his hands and fell to his knees. “Fuck, Geralt, I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He said, voice wrecked.

Geralt caught Eskel’s eye over Lambert’s shoulder and motioned him back with a quick tilt of his chin. Eskel hesitated, but complied when he saw Geralt’s clear, calm expression. Jaskier stepped forward and drew Eskel back, knowing Geralt could handle this. Geralt cast him a grateful smile before turning his attention to Lambert.

He crouched in front of Lambert and drew him close, letting Lambert bury his face in the crook of Geralt’s shoulder, as he had when he was a child. Geralt was suddenly reminded of the nights he’d spent holding Lambert together after he’d been through the Trial of the Grasses, soothing his fears and trying to ease the aches of the mutations as he rode out the changes. Lambert had been so small then, so young, able to fit easily in Geralt’s lap. The years since had changed that, Lambert easily outmatching Geralt in size when he finally reached his own maturity. But he would always be Geralt’s little brother.

“I didn’t mean to use my Voice on you, Geralt, I swear it.” He said, voice thick and tight, breath hot against Geralt’s neck.

“I know, it’s all right.” Geralt said, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down Lambert’s bare back.

“It’s not.” Lambert said, arms tightening around Geralt’s back.

“No, not really, but I forgive you for it.” Geralt said gently. He’d told Lambert about the werewolf in Daevon, about how he’d been unaffected by its Dominant Voice. But that didn’t make it right for Lambert to employ his Voice against him and they both knew it. It was a betrayal of the trust Geralt placed in Lambert, but Geralt believed Lambert when he said it was unintentional, especially given the overwrought hurt Geralt had caused him with his thoughtless words. His brother was many things, impulsive, tempestuous, even insensitive at times, but he was never cruel or domineering, especially not to his family.

“You shouldn’t.” Lambert said, moving as if to draw away.

Geralt tightened his hold and Lambert subsided, relaxing into Geralt again. “But I do, and it’s my choice.” He was struck with a sudden sense of déjà vu from his conversation with Vesemir. Geralt felt a sudden wave of gratitude for Jaskier teaching him how to communicate openly with his family – an incident like this could have broken his relationship with Lambert otherwise.

“What happened?” Geralt asked gently. “It’s not like you to lose control like that. You get angry, sure, but this was different.”

Lambert tensed but Geralt simply waited, continuing to stroke his back. Eventually, Lambert let his breath out in a huff, tension easing. He sat back and tugged Geralt out of his crouch, pulling him so close that Geralt had no choice but to sit on Lambert’s thighs, held against his chest. Geralt allowed it, letting Lambert take whatever comfort he needed.

“It was shortly after I left you in Vizima. I got a hunt for a katakan outside some nameless blip of a village. They'd woken the thing up trying to mine some godsdamned cave and the fucker started nabbing children from the village to break its fast.”

Lambert sighed and Geralt feared he knew what was coming. “I tracked it down, fought it, and the thing was faster even than you, flitting about and getting me with those fucking sharp claws. And the fucker kept regenerating health faster than I could drain it. I got frustrated. Got careless. I charged at it and it threw me back into the wall. Stunned me good. While I was struggling to get up again, instead of taking me out, the fucking thing took one of the kids out of the cage it kept them in and --”

Lambert broke off, burying his face in Geralt’s hair. “Fucker split the kid in half, used his blood to boost its regeneration powers. Then came at me again. I don’t really remember much after that, but I killed it. Brought the rest of the kids home. Burned the dead kid to keep the necrophages away. Knew his parents would be killed by something in those woods if they tried to go all the way out there to bury him.”

Geralt just held his brother tighter. There was nothing to say that would make it better.

“You saved all those other kids.” Geralt said finally. “They would have died without you. And more kids after that, then probably the whole village.”

“That one kid should have lived too.” Lambert said, his voice hollow.

“All of the katakan’s victims should have lived, but their deaths weren’t your fault. You saved as many as you could.” Lambert went to protest and Geralt spoke over him. “Katakans are tough hunts, there’s no way to know if it landed that blow because you lost your temper or whether it would have happened anyway. The best thing you can do to repent for that one boy’s death is to keep going. Save more people.”

Geralt drew back and caught Lambert’s gaze, forcing him to hold it. “That’s what I did after Blaviken. What I continue to do each time I fail to save someone.”

Lambert considered that for a long moment. Geralt knew it wouldn’t erase the pain he felt, but he could at least redirect it.

Lambert’s eyes lightened and he quirked a grin. “How’d you get so fucking wise?”

“It’s the power of communication.” Geralt said archly, returning Lambert’s grin.

“It’s the power of Jaskier, you mean.” Lambert leered, making an obscene gesture.

Geralt smacked him and got up, reaching a hand down. Lambert took it and stood, wrapping an arm around Geralt’s shoulders as they rejoined the others. Jaskier gave Geralt a soft, proud smile, drawing him into a tight embrace, and Geralt felt warmed through. Eskel ruffled Lambert’s hair before dragging him over to a snowbank and shoving him into it. Lambert sprang back up with a squawk, taking off after Eskel with messy handful of snow, promising cold retribution.

Geralt shook his head at the antics but sobered at Vesemir’s troubled expression.

“How can you forgive him so easily? He should not lose control like that, much less over his Voice.” Vesemir asked, brow furrowed in a frown.

“He shouldn’t, but I’m glad this came out now, at home, rather than out on his Path. And I forgave him because I can, because I knew he truly meant me no real harm.” Geralt said, tone making it clear that they were talking about more than just Lambert. “And because I forgave him, we were able to talk about it and move past it. I know he’ll be more careful in the future.”

Vesemir hummed, considering Geralt’s words. Geralt didn’t press for a response. With a nod of acknowledgment, Vesemir turned away, calling the other two back.

“If have the time to roughhouse, go chop more firewood. The kitchen hearth needs more in its reserve.” Vesemir directed.

“My hearth does too.” Geralt said, canting his head with a smile.

“All the way up that fucking tower?” Lambert protested. Eskel smacked his shoulder. Geralt just raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Fine, just this once.” Lambert conceded.

Geralt’s smile widened and Lambert waved him off with a huff, heading toward the wood pile.

“Hot spring?” Geralt asked Jaskier.

“Definitely. I can barely feel my face anymore.” Jaskier said, pulling his cloak tighter.

“Then go. I will start dinner.” Vesemir said.

Geralt pulled his tunic back on and wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him close to share body heat as they traipsed back up into the keep, heading for the soothing warmth of the hot springs below.

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

Geralt sat in front of Jaskier in the hot spring, head tilted back and eyes closed as Jaskier worked soap into his long, white hair, gently working out the tangles caused by his exertions. It had been several months since they last stopped at a barber and his hair now reached the middle of his back. Without his armor and with his hair long, Geralt looked as close to a typical male submissive as he ever would. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, not because he was ashamed anymore, but because he wasn’t a typical male submissive. He was something quite different and, for once, Geralt was entirely comfortable with that.

“Your hair has gotten long.” Jaskier commented, making sure to keep his voice neutral. Geralt appreciated the consideration, the way Jaskier made sure to never express a firm opinion on how Geralt should look, prioritizing Geralt’s comfort above all else.

“Hmm, it has. I think it’s time for a cut.” Geralt said, words slightly slurring together. A hot bath after a hard workout, especially if Jaskier washed his hair, always nearly put him to sleep.

“Well, you’ll need to wait until we get to a barber then. We learned the last time that my tonsorial skills leave much to be desired.” Jaskier said, a hint of amused self-deprecation in his tone.

Geralt huffed a laugh. The one time Jaskier had tried to cut his hair, he’d failed to make it even so many times that Geralt’s hair had ended up at his chin before Jaskier finally admitted defeat. The barber they’d subsequently gone to see had simply sighed, shaken his head, and cut Geralt’s hair short. It had taken over a year for it to grow back out to his preferred length. After that, they had both agreed a repeat attempt was not in the cards.

“I’ll ask Vesemir to do it. He used to cut my hair when I was in training. All of ours, actually. He was the only trainer who could do it without shearing us like sheep.” Geralt said, smiling faintly at the memory.

“Vesemir truly is a man of many skills.” Jaskier said slowly. He paused and took a long breath before continuing. “It has been difficult for me to forgive him as you have.” Jaskier said finally, haltingly, as if expecting Geralt to condemn him.

Geralt twisted around and rested his chin on Jaskier’s thigh, looking up at him. “I know, and I am grateful for your forbearance.” Geralt looked away, unsure if he should share his remaining thoughts.

“I heard you, that night in the kitchen, and today, outside.” Geralt said, deciding he should be open with Jaskier in this as with all things.

“Ah,” Jaskier said, mouth tightening. “I hadn’t intended that for your ears. I didn’t want to burden you with my feelings on the matter when you already had so much to deal with.”

Geralt shook his head and pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s knee. “I already knew, I could smell your anger.”

Jaskier huffed. “You and that wolfish nose of yours,” he said, flushing with embarrassment.

Geralt twitched his nose at him and Jaskier laughed, his expression easing.

“You seem content with him now, though? Now that you’ve heard his side?” Geralt asked, head tilting slightly as he considered Jaskier.

Jaskier’s mouth thinned but then relaxed, his shoulders dropping. “Aye, I can see now why you would forgive him. He truly cares for you, loves you as a father loves a son. I understand he did what he did because he felt he had no choice if he wanted to preserve your life and keep you safe.”

Jaskier reached out and traced the thick, roping scars covering Geralt’s back. “But you will carry the mark of his errors your whole life. Your forgiveness does not erase the damage done.”

“Vesemir suffers too. I’ve never seen him so uncertain, as if he questions every decision he makes, every word he plans to speak.” Geralt said, voicing the concern he’d held close to his chest, watching how Vesemir had changed after learning the truth.

“Good.” Jaskier said vehemently. “He hurt you because he failed to question whether there was another option. His methods were already archaic by the time you were born, and he would have known that had he stopped to question his decision more thoroughly before implementing it. If he’d sought counsel from someone other than another witcher or the local village’s madame. I’m sure Nenneke would have been willing to consult with him had he but asked.”

Geralt instinctively moved to protest, to defend Vesemir, but subsided. When he forced himself to think about it, Jaskier was right. Even though he understood Vesemir’s reasons, especially after eavesdropping on his conversation earlier with Jaskier, that didn’t mean Vesemir had been in the right. Or that his good intentions excused the damage he’d wrought. Although Geralt had decided to forgive Vesemir, he realized he shouldn’t forget how they’d ended up in such a toxic loop -- it was the only way to prevent a similar occurrence in the future. He could forgive, but he must never forget.

Jaskier took a deep slow breath and his anger eased, seeing the play of expressions on Geralt’s face as he came to that realization. “That hesitation he’s displaying now is precisely why I believe I can trust him with you going forward. I’ve studied him over these past weeks. He is fundamentally a good man, very much like you. I don’t believe he will repeat his error.” Jaskier said. “And I believe you understand your own worth well enough now that you would not accept it if he sought to hurt you again. Nor would Lambert and Eskel.”

Geralt huffed. “They certainly would not,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ve grown closer to them as well this winter. I have you to thank for that.”

Jaskier tilted his head questioningly. “How so?”

“You taught me to be open, both with myself and with others.” Geralt said. “It’s the opposite of what we were taught. We were always fond of each other, always close, but there was a tension there. We held ourselves back. But this year, I was able to be fully open with them and they responded in kind.”

Jaskier gave him a warm, proud smile. “I’ve been so glad to see how close you three have become. It’s good for all of you. I can’t say I know Lambert and Eskel as well as you do, but they seem happier and more relaxed than they were at the start of winter.”

Geralt hummed and twisted back around, leaning back against the wall between Jaskier’s legs. “They are. It also helps that they aren’t going a couple months without guiding a submissive down. They would get pretty tetchy by the end of the season in past years and they’d practically race down to the brothel in the village as soon as the mountain pass cleared.”

“Do they only ever engage with working submissives?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt nodded. “Or the rare submissive willing to do it without coin. They’ve both had a few regular flings over the years, submissives willing to drop for them more than once, but it’s hard to keep that up walking the Path.” Geralt tilted his head back, looking at Jaskier upside down. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have a partner willing to walk the Path with them.”

Jaskier leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said with a smile.

Jaskier gently guided Geralt’s head back into position and picked up a wash basin, carefully pouring water over Geralt’s hair to wash out the suds, repeating the process until the water ran clear. As he reached for the bottle of hair oil, Eskel and Lambert clattered into the chamber, dropping their boots by the door and stripping off their wet clothes before jumping into the warm water with audible sighs of relief.

“Well, would you look at this pampered pup?” Lambert drawled to Eskel.

“Sure looks comfortable,” Eskel said with a grin. “Soft, even.”

Geralt flipped them an obscene gesture, humming with contentment as Jaskier worked the oil through his hair.

“Don’t worry, Lambert, you’re next.” Jaskier said cheekily, beckoning him over.

Lambert blinking, mouth gaping open. “I am not!”

“I won’t force you, of course,” Jaskier said, “but you comment on this every time we’re down here together, so I can’t help but think you’re feeling left out.”

Lambert spluttered, flush rising in his cheeks.

Geralt rolled his eyes, twisting around and up to press a kiss to Jaskier’s cheek before moving out of the way. “Just do it,” he said. “I’m going to wash Eskel’s hair.”

“You are?” Eskel asked, eyebrow raised.

“Aye, no arguments. Just sit down and shut up.” Geralt said imperiously, moving to sit behind Eskel.

Eskel raised his hands in surrender and ducked his head under the water, wetting it thoroughly before sitting back, leaning against the edge of the pool between Geralt’s knees.

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Lambert who finally conceded.

“Fine!” He said, throwing his hands up and sitting in front of Jaskier with a huff. “Let’s see what’s so special about this.”

Jaskier chuckled but didn’t comment, knowing Lambert would run away from too much teasing, especially after his earlier breakdown. He needed affectionate touch as much as the rest of them, but it was hard for him to accept it. He was more at ease with Geralt than he had been at the start of the season but accepting the same from Jaskier was still a trial. But Geralt was confident Jaskier’s easy nature would bring Lambert around eventually.

Geralt finished with the soap and tossed it to Jaskier. The chamber was silent but for the soft sounds of scrubbing and the content hums from Eskel and Lambert. Eskel melted immediately into Geralt’s touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation. Lambert stayed tense at first, flinching minutely when Jaskier scrubbed a new area, but his tension eased as Jaskier worked, and he was leaning back between Jaskier’s knees, eyes closed, by the time Jaskier finished.

Geralt caught Jaskier’s eye and they smiled softly at each other, enjoying the calm, familial atmosphere.

“Basin or dunk?” Geralt asked Eskel, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eskel took in a long breath, stretching as he opened his eyes. Rather than responding, he simply ducked forward, submerging himself and ruffling his hair underwater to rinse out the suds.

Eskel resurfaced and sat back against the wall, motioning for Geralt to sit beside him. When Geralt arranged himself back in the pool, Eskel put an arm around his shoulders and drew him close to his side, giving him a brief squeeze to express his gratitude. Geralt smiled up at him and then settled into the hold, leaning his head on Eskel’s chest and closing his eyes, breathing in the steam and letting the warm water relax his muscles.

When Jaskier lifted his hands away, washing complete, Lambert ducked forward and rinsed his own hair, tossing Jaskier a gruff “thanks” over his shoulder before tucking in at Geralt’s other side, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. Jaskier shook his head fondly and settled back into the pool next to Lambert, his own hair already washed clean.

The four sat in silence together, soaking in the warmth of the water and the easy companionship of family.

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

After dinner, once everyone was settled into their quiet diversions for the evening, Geralt sought out Vesemir. He found him sitting in the front tower, on the balcony of an abandoned room that had once belonged to the keep’s master healer, nursing a tankard of strong mead as he watched the stars.

Geralt was struck by the memory of sitting out on one of the nearby mountain peaks as a small child, filled with the elation of a successful climb, listening as Vesemir taught their small training group how to navigate by the stars. Back then, he had been the fencing master for those boys who survived the Trial of the Grasses, but he’d always volunteered to lead the smallest boys up into the mountains to share his love of the stars. Not that he ever phrased it that way, but Geralt remembered how unusually open his expression had been as he shared his passion.

“I remember when you taught us how the stars could guide us home,” Geralt said quietly, approaching the balcony and taking a seat next to Vesemir on the old stone bench.

“That was another lifetime,” Vesemir said, equally quietly. Geralt knew he was thinking about the pogroms, of all the witchers and trainees lost when the keep was sacked. Before that, the keep had never been silent, never crumbled. For all the terrors that went on within the walls, all the children lost to the Trials, it was home for those who survived. Those who never should have died here, slaughtered in their home, all for the crime of seeking to protect the world from monsters. Their spirits lingered over the keep, their bones buried in the moat as a memorial. And as a warning.

“It’s still home,” Geralt said, staring up at the stars. “We cannot change what’s come before, the pain that echoes in these walls, but we can rebuild. Maybe not the School, its time is over, but our time – mine, yours, Eskel’s, Lambert’s – that’s not over.”

“But is it worth keeping?” Vesemir asked, voice tight.

Geralt looked over at him, waiting until Vesemir met his gaze. He let everything he was feeling show on his face. “Family always is.” He said simply.

Vesemir closed his eyes as if Geralt’s words pained him. Geralt waited, keeping his posture soft and open. Eventually, Vesemir took in a long, slow breath and reached out, placing a hand tentatively on Geralt’s where it rested on the bench. Geralt flipped his hand over and squeezed gently, accepting the hold.

No words were needed.

They sat in silence and stared up at the stars that had never failed to guide them home.

“You must have come up here for a reason.” Vesemir said, forcing his voice to be light and casual. “Can’t just have been to reminisce about the stars.”

Geralt shook his head, a faint smile on his face. Neither he nor Vesemir was one to linger over heavy discussions. They’d each said their piece, it was time to move on.

“Aye, I was hoping you’d cut my hair for me.” Geralt said, tugging on the ends of his long hair. “It’s gotten too long.”

Vesemir nodded, his expression easing. “Of course. Now?”

Geralt handed him the shears he’d brought in lieu of answer and stood, leaving his back to Vesemir.

“How short?” Vesemir asked, standing to join Geralt.

“My usual length.” Geralt responded, holding himself still.

Vesemir nodded. He tucked the shears into his belt and carefully finger combed Geralt’s hair, smoothing it out until it was perfectly even, leaving the front pieces out of the way. With sure hands, he cut neatly across the hair, cutting it back until it fell just past Geralt’s shoulders. With the back done, he pulled the front pieces out to the side, cutting them back in line with the rest. When the trim was complete, Vesemir stood in front of Geralt and checked the two front pieces against each other, making sure one side was not shorter than the other. They were perfectly even, as always.

Vesemir placed his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and Geralt relaxed into the pressure, dropping his head forward and letting it rest on Vesemir’s chest. It was the most normal interaction they’d had all season. It released some of the remaining tension in Geralt’s chest, giving him the courage to ask for what he wanted.

“Will you guide me down?” Geralt asked softly, pulling back to look into Vesemir’s eyes.

Vesemir tensed and dropped his hands from Geralt’s shoulders, his jaw clenching.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Vesemir said, looking away.

“Then don’t.” Geralt said.

“It’s not so simple.” Vesemir said, shoulders thrumming with tension.

“It is.” Geralt said. “You’ve seen Lambert and Eskel do it all season. It need not be anything more than that.”

Vesemir still wouldn’t meet his eyes. But he hadn’t left. And he hadn’t refused.

“I won’t insist,” Geralt said, “but I’m ready to try when you are. Just because we got it wrong before doesn’t mean we can’t correct our course.”

Vesemir’s lips pressed into a thin line but he met Geralt’s gaze. Geralt could see the conflict, the hesitation, and he decided to leave it for the day. He’d had a lot longer to come to terms with his feelings about Vesemir and their history – not to mention Jaskier’s invaluable help. It wouldn’t be fair to push Vesemir for a response without extending him that same courtesy of time to process his feelings.

Geralt reached out and placed a brief hand on Vesemir’s shoulder before turning away and heading back into the keep, leaving Vesemir to his thoughts.

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

The next fortnight passed quietly, the days lengthening as spring rapidly approached. As the snow started to melt, the streams and rivers cracked open, the thick ice covering them breaking away and rushing downstream to feed the fields and valleys below.

When the first snowbells poked their delicate heads out from under the ice, signaling winter was finally releasing its grip on the land, Kaer Morhen’s residents started to prepare to head out onto the Path again. The horses were brought in from their winter pastures and put back into work more strenuous work, slowly rebuilding muscles lost over the long, dark season. Potions were decanted into travel bottles and packed carefully into saddlebags along with bags of dried, crushed supplies. As Geralt appropriated everyone’s swords and daggers, sharpening and honing them to a fine edge, Eskel oiled the armor, ensuring no weak patches or loose stiches remained, and Lambert did the same with all the tack, replacing buckles and conditioning the leather against the spring rains to come. Jaskier worked with Vesemir to plan the spring’s harvest, sharing his knowledge of new developments in agriculture from his brother in Lettenhove to help Vesemir increase yield.

The night before they planned to set off, the men shared a hearty feast, bolstering themselves against the lean months ahead and enjoying this last chance to truly eat their fill. Though each would depart with full saddlebags, provisions usually ran low before the hunting was good, either monster or game, and they all knew lean times were likely over the next weeks.

As they lingered over generous slices of spiced honey cake, a special treat Vesemir prepared only once at the end of each winter, they began to discuss plans for the season ahead. As usual, each would keep to their assigned regions, with Geralt patrolling the west, Lambert the east, and Eskel the south. Vesemir would stay behind to supervise the spring planting before setting off to assist, as needed, with more dangerous hunts or urgent matters the witcher in control of a region could not reach in time. Vesemir had agreements with the major settlements throughout the Continent, allowing their corvids to find him wherever he roamed beyond Kaer Morhen’s walls. If he was in residence, any missives were delivered to the mage in the village below, who had a special charm allowing her corvid to pass through Kaer Morhen’s stringent wards. She would also provide a portal for Vesemir in an emergency.

The three witchers debated their routes, planning their season’s Paths to ensure that they spread out as much as possible, so as to increase the range in which their assistance could be provided.

As their discussions were winding down, Jaskier spoke. “Why don’t the two of you join us in Lettenhove for a while before setting off? That will get you through the leanest part of the season and I would like to introduce you to my family.”

“Why?” Lambert asked, eyebrow raised.

“Because you’re my family now too. You’ll always have a safe haven in Lettenhove, a place to rest and recuperate as needed, and I want to be sure you know it.” Jaskier said.

“What, you want us to just show up at your family home and ask for a room?” Lambert pressed, incredulous.

“Yes. Anytime you wish. I will set aside rooms for you all when Geralt and I visit after leaving here, and the staff will treat you as members of the family. My home is yours to use at your leisure.” Jaskier said firmly. Geralt pressed a hand to his thigh under the table, squeezing lightly to express his gratitude. He’d known Jaskier planned to make this offer, but he was still touched by the consideration.

“Won’t that upset your family?” Eskel asked gently.

“Of course not. They understand that Geralt is my submissive and that his family is now part of ours. They would prefer to be introduced first, of course, but they will welcome you regardless. You too, Vesemir, though I understand you cannot travel with us now given the planting. They know to recognize you by your medallion.” Jaskier explained.

“What the hell, let’s go.” Lambert said, leaning back and projecting an ease he almost certainly did not feel. “I could do with a little pampering in a noble house.”

Eskel smacked him. “What he means to say is that we’ll accept your offer, with gratitude.”

Jaskier waved him off with a smile. “No thanks are needed among family,” he said. “My quarters at Oxenfurt University are equally open to you, though I understand travelling that far west puts you both far out of range to begin your season.”

“That is generous of you, Jaskier.” Vesemir said, inclining his head slightly.

“It is my pleasure. And you are just as much family as Lambert and Eskel now, your thanks are equally unnecessary.” Jaskier said, inclining his head in return.

Vesemir gave a deeper nod, casting Jaskier a considering look. Jaskier held his gaze, waiting until Vesemir was ready to speak. The others sat quietly, as if waiting with bated breath.

“I have not said it in so many words, but I am glad you have taken Geralt as your submissive and I accept you into this family as his Dominant. May he bring peace and honor to your house.” Vesemir said, speaking the traditional blessing given to the Dominant of one’s submissive child.

“May I be as good for him as he is for me.” Jaskier responded, completing the set phrase and accepting Vesemir’s blessing.

Geralt felt a broad smile spread across his face, his chest light and warm. He cast a grateful glance at Vesemir and pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s cheek.

Vesemir returned Geralt’s smile with a small one of his own, nodding in approval before turning his attention back to Jaskier. “As Geralt’s Dominant, you will carry the protection of our School throughout your life, as will your family. If you have need for us, call and we will answer. If anyone profanes your home or harms your blood, we will seek vengeance on your behalf. Should you need it, Kaer Morhen is forever open to you and yours.”

Vesemir reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out a small ring holding two identical pendants. He handed it to Jaskier and Geralt took in a sharp breath when he saw what it was. “Place this on the leg of any corvid and it will pass through our wards, bringing word to me immediately. If I am outside the wards, the corvid will travel to the nearest wolf, allowing him to offer aid. Leave one with your family and carry one with you always.”

Jaskier closed his hand over the pendants, eyes shining. “Thank you,” he said, voice full, a soft smile on his face. He understood the gravity of the offering, and the trust it implied.

Vesemir huffed a laugh. “Gratitude is not needed among family, boy.” He said, his tone relaxed, speaking to Jaskier as if speaking to one of his wolves. It was a small gesture, but Geralt knew how big a concession it was, how clearly that informality demonstrated Vesemir’s acceptance of Jaskier into their family. From Jaskier’s expression, he knew it too.

Geralt glanced over at his brothers and saw only open acceptance on their faces.

Eskel stood, stretching his arms high. “Now that we’re all family, can I request a private performance from our famous brother?” He asked Jaskier with a smile.

“With pleasure,” Jaskier said. “Shall we retire to the sitting area by the hearth?”

Vesemir nodded and stood, heading out into the main hall with Eskel and Lambert close behind. While Jaskier retrieved his lute, Geralt gathered the dishes, putting them to soak in the wash basin. Just as he finished, Jaskier came back down from the tower above the kitchen, lute in hand. Geralt reached out and Jaskier came to him, easily yielding when Geralt pulled him into a tight embrace. Geralt breathed deeply, Jaskier’s familiar rosin and honey mixing with the scents of Kaer Morhen, mingling together into one scent that meant home.

“I love you,” Geralt breathed into Jaskier’s neck, pressing his eyes closed. They burned, as if tears wanted to fall, overwhelmed by the gratitude and love he felt for the man in his arms as he finally put to words that most cherished of feelings.

Jaskier choked on a gasp and Geralt pulled back, seeing tears sparkling at the corners of Jaskier’s eyes even as his face softened into a loving smile. “And I, you. With all that I am and all that I have, until the end of my days and beyond.”

Geralt leaned in, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s and letting their breaths synchronize. Jaskier was a part of him, a part of all of them now. Though Geralt would live for centuries after Jaskier’s time, Jaskier would live on in him, in the bonds he’d helped Geralt forge with his family, in the way he’d learned to accept himself as he was, until Geralt breathed his last. So, too, would the wolves of Kaer Morhen walk in lockstep with Jaskier’s family, protecting them and keeping Jaskier’s memory alive until the world outgrew its need for witchers. And then, if the gods allowed, Geralt and Jaskier would meet again.

But now was not the time for such musings, not now when Jaskier still bloomed with youth and his family awaited in the hall, eager to enjoy one last night all together in their home before setting out on the Path. Geralt pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Jaskier’s lips before leading Jaskier out into the hall to rejoin their family.

He stopped short when the seating area came into view.

At Vesemir’s feet was the cushion he’d been kneeling on in the library.

Geralt felt his chest fill with warmth and he made no effort to restrain the smile he felt spreading across his face. With a quick glance at Jaskier, who looked as affected as Geralt did, he stepped forward. And then, as he had done with Eskel, Lambert, and Jaskier all winter, Geralt sank to his knees beside Vesemir and leaned into his legs, putting himself in Vesemir’s care.

As Vesemir’s hand slowly, tentatively started to stroke through his hair, Jaskier strummed his lute, commanding the attention of the room. Geralt felt Vesemir relax, the playful mood and Jaskier’s performance providing cover, allowing them to settle into their new dynamic.

As Jaskier strummed increasingly bawdy tunes and Lambert and Eskel’s singing devolved into shouting, shoving each other as they each tried to one-up the lascivious tales from the songs, Vesemir continued to stroke Geralt’s hair, smoothing it back and letting his strong, calloused fingers massage into Geralt’s skull, chasing away tension.

Surrounded by his family, Geralt let himself drop, surrendering to Vesemir’s guidance, confident that, this time, it would not hurt.

Geralt drifted, feeling as if he were cocooned in Vesemir’s arms, safe from the world. Unlike the sharp edges he’d experienced before, now Vesemir’s Dominance felt like liniment on sore muscles, like hot cake fresh from the oven, like a long bath after a hunt. Like making the last turn on the road home, seeing the torches lit and the gate raised, the smell of fresh-baked bread in the air.

Time lost all meaning.

Geralt came out of subspace, briefly, as Vesemir tucked him into bed next to Jaskier, easing off his boots and smoothing his hair back from his face. As Vesemir’s touch disappeared, fading as his footsteps echoed down the stairs, Geralt curled into Jaskier’s embrace and let the world fall away.

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

The next morning, as the sun rose high above the mountain peaks and bird song rang through the valley, Geralt faced Vesemir at the gate, Jaskier at his side and his brothers behind them, the horses tacked and loaded for the season ahead.

Vesemir reached out and clasped Jaskier’s forearm, giving him a small, warm smile. “Take care of him,” he said.

“I will. With everything I have.” Jaskier said, nodding respectfully to Vesemir.

Vesemir returned the nod and turned to Geralt, opening his arms. Geralt stepped forward immediately, nudging his head up under Vesemir’s chin. Vesemir embraced him tightly before stepping back with a brisk nod, his expression fond, his hands on Geralt’s shoulders.

“Walk your Path with honor.” Vesemir said.

“May your Path be smooth and may your sword strike true.” Geralt replied, completing the traditional leave-taking exchange.

“And make sure those two don’t embarrass our School in front of Jaskier’s family.” Vesemir said with a grin, pretending to whisper to Geralt.

Lambert tossed them both an obscene gesture and Eskel just rolled his eyes.

“We know how to behave in polite company.” Eskel said.

“Well, maybe you do.” Geralt said, motioning with his eyes to make it clear Lambert’s ability to behave was profoundly in question.

“Honestly? Fuck you.” Lambert said, his light expression belying his words.

“They survived Geralt, the two of you will do just fine.” Jaskier teased.

Geralt gasped in mock outrage.

“Very true, it can only improve from there.” Vesemir said with a sage nod, eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’m trusting you to keep these three in line.”

“A task I most whole-heartedly accept.” Jaskier said, flourishing a courtly bow.

Vesemir’s teasing expression eased into something more serious. “Take care of each other out there. And come home safely.” Vesemir said, looking at each man in turn, only moving to the next when his words were accepted with a firm nod.

“Get going then, you’ll want to make it to the village by nightfall.” Vesemir said. Lambert and Eskel were already mounted and Jaskier swung up onto Potato’s back at Vesemir’s words, following the other two out the main gate.

“Until next winter.” Geralt said, turning one last time to look at Vesemir before mounting Roach to join the others.

“Until then.” Vesemir said warmly.

With a final nod, Geralt mounted Roach and directed her out onto the path. He felt Vesemir’s gaze on his back until we went around the bend and he smiled, feeling Vesemir’s support.

Geralt urged Roach into a trot, catching up to the others and playfully knocking his stirrups against Lambert’s as he pressed by on the narrow trail, pulling even with Jaskier to lead the way down into the valley.

With Jaskier at his side and his brothers at his back, Geralt knew he had nothing to fear.

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

Thank you to everyone who's read and commented on this, you've made writing this story a real pleasure!

I'm not foreclosing the possibility of additional stories in this 'verse, exploring either future events or another perspective on something that happened here in Geralt's limited POV, but, for now at least, this story is at an end.

As a note, I know this delved into difficult territory, especially this last section dealing with reconciliation after past abuse. I did my best to do justice to all sides involved, keeping at the forefront Geralt's agency -- that it was his choice to forgive Vesemir, even though his forgiveness did not erase the damage that had come before. I know there's no right answer in such situations, but if this is something you're struggling with, or you want to discuss any of the choices made herein further, I'm here for you.

Also, I have a lot of stories in my WIP folder, so hit the subscribe button on my AO3 profile if you want to get those updates.

Stay safe out there.

@thesunshinemanman

@humbae

@a-crown-for-sweets

@lookoutrogue

#kirk-spock-in-the-impala writes #follow you down #the witcher #geralt/jaskier #geraskier #fic #sub!geralt #dom!jaskier #gentle dom jaskier #soft!geralt #soft!jaskier #eskel #lambert #vesemir #witcher family

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