#SO CATHARTIC OR HOWEVER YOU SPELL THAT WORD LOL

[pommigranite]

hey i'm drawing the peepaw again okay bye

[beyondthedustjacket]

Bookish Asks

ORIGINAL BOOK TAG BY CINNASBOOKS

SPINE — WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE GENRE TO READ?

Probably fantasy or contemporary romance. Fantasy can be difficult for me to get into, but I enjoy it once the story gets moving. As for contemporary romance, there's nothing like some good fluff to put a smile on my face.

COMMA — WHO IS YOUR FAVOURITE CHARACTER…. EVER!?

This one is so hard! The first literary character who came to mind was Diana Barry. She's such a good friend and could achieve so much if her family simply gave her the chance.

PAGE — HOW DO YOU GET OUT OF A BOOK SLUMP?

Honestly, if I'm in a slump, I don't force myself to read. I don't want to ruin the enjoyment of it by making it a chore. I always find my way back eventually.

LIBRARY — WHAT IS ONE BOOK THAT CHANGED YOUR VIEWS ON A TOPIC?

I wouldn't say this book changed my views about the topic since I already agree with and support her viewpoints, but Greta Thunberg's speech collection, No One Is Too Small Too Make a Difference, taught me a lot about climate change and the crisis our planet is currently undergoing. She provides tons of information about it that I didn't know about before reading her book. Her speeches really helped me understand the issue and the scientific evidence behind it on a much deeper level. She makes it easy to understand and doesn't come off as condescending. She genuinely cares about the earth and its continuation.

WORDS — WHAT BOOK MADE YOU LOVE READING?

I didn't have the same childhood experience that many avid readers had. Others talk about how amazing reading was for them as a child, but, for me, it was a chore. I was constantly being forced to read books in school that I didn't find interesting whatsoever. Because of that, I didn't experience the childhood wonder of discovering books like the Percy Jackson series or the Chronicles of Narnia for the first time. I didn't start reading for personal enjoyment until my last year of high school. After I was free from narratives I didn't care about, I felt so much happiness once I found books that I actually enjoyed. So, overall, there isn't necessarily any one book that made me love reading. Instead, it was finally being given the chance to read what I wanted that changed my perception of it.

TYPEWRITER — HAVE YOU EVER CRIED OVER A BOOK?

Bridge to Terabithia is in the lead on this one, however, it did not actually achieve the task. No book that I have read has been successful in making me cry. (If you have a challenge for me, send it my way, lol!)

LETTER — WHO IS YOUR CHARACTER CRUSH?

I'm changing this question just a little bit since I don't really have an answer for it. In regards of which character I relate to and see myself in the most, it would have to be Nick Nelson from Heartstopper without a doubt. So many things he experienced in discovering his sexuality is what I went through as well. So much so that, in certain points of the story, it's almost a step-by-step recreation of my life. It's rather odd, but cathartic at the same time.

SPELLING — IF YOU COULD BE PUT INTO ANY UNIVERSE, WHICH WOULD IT BE?

I'm going with the Osemanverse! (Can you tell Alice Oseman is my fave yet?) Alice has put so much effort into her extended universe that exists within her novels. The Osemanverse provides such a warm feeling of comfort for me. I truly can't imagine a world without her works.

BOOKSTORE — IF YOU HAD A CHARACTER WRITTEN BASED ON YOU, WHAT WOULD THEIR PERSONALITY AND NAME BE?

Hopefully, I would just be me. I'm enough the way I am and I wouldn't change a single thing about myself.

GRAMMAR — WHAT IS THE SHORTEST PERIOD OF TIME IT HAS TAKEN YOU TO READ A NOVEL?

Probably a day, but only because I devoured Girl Made of Stars by Ashley Herring Blake in one long, extended sitting.

SCROLL — WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE WEATHER TO READ IN?

Thunderstorms are where it's at for me!

PRINTER — WHY DO YOU READ?

Because it's fun! I like reading about other people's viewpoints and opinions, as well as discovering new fictional worlds that authors have put their hearts and souls into. Reading really is a beautiful thing.

PAPERBACK — STRANGEST PLACE YOU HAVE READ A BOOK?

I guess my answer would have to be the bathtub? I like to dim the lights and use bath bombs in the water as I take some time to relax. I don't know if I would call this strange though because I know quite a few people who do this as well.

HARDCOVER — LEAST FAVOURITE BOOK AND WHY?

Stephen King's It, primarily because of that extremely gross scene towards the end. (I won't say what it is, but I'm sure other reviewers know what I'm talking about.) Please research that book before you read it. I know it's horror and all, but that scene went way too far in my opinion. That was my first Stephen King book and I will never read another.

BESTSELLER — WHO IS YOUR FAVOURITE AUTHOR?

Definitely Alice Oseman! Their books make me feel so warm and happy. I know I can always turn to their work if I ever need a pick-me-up!

BINDING — IF YOU COULD GIVE ANY BOOK TO A LOVED ONE, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY?

My sister is a lot like me in the sense that she didn't enjoy reading when she was younger. However, she still holds that view to a certain degree. If I recommend a book for her, she knows that I chose it because I'm sure she will like it. That's why I gave her a Chronicles of Narnia boxset. And she loves them!

CHAPTER — DO YOU THINK READING IS FOR EVERYONE?

That's a hard question. I think people consume stories differently and in their own ways. Maybe someone likes physical books while another person likes the audio versions? Someone else could prefer to simply watch the movie or TV adaptation of story? All of those options are fine. I think we need to let go of the idea that if someone doesn't read then they aren't as intelligent as people who do. Because that's simply not true. We should all be allowed to consume stories in whatever format suits us the best without the fear of judgment from others.

BLURB — HOW MANY BOOKS ARE YOU READING RIGHT NOW?

Don't look at me.

CLIFFHANGER — WHAT BOOK(S) ARE YOU READING CURRENTLY?

I won't include books that I haven't picked up in a while because we'd be here forever if I did. The two books I'm most actively reading are Beartown as well as The Duke and I. Beartown is apart of my current Shelf Unhaul challenge, which was inspired by BooksAndLala's Closet Unhaul series. If you remember the earlier question about odd reading locations, I said that I like to unwind and read in the bathtub. That's where I take some time to catch up on The Duke and I. Nothing like a good romance while being surrounded by candles, lol!

COVER — RECOMMEND A BOOK FOR ME?

Heartstopper by Alice Oseman, especially if you like sweet, fluffy stories about friendship and romance.

PROLOGUE — DESCRIBE THE BOOK YOU ARE CURRENTLY READING USING ONLY EMOJIS?

I want to clarify that I've only read the first chapter of Beartown, so I'm only doing The Duke and I for this one, lol! 🤭👸🏻💅🏻✨👑💍💗

EPILOGUE — IF YOU COULD RENAME ANY BOOK, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

I genuinely can't think of a book for this one. I don't necessarily have issues with book titles because I know it's not (usually) up to the author what they're book is titled or how the cover is designed.

TITLE — WHAT CHARACTER WOULD BE YOUR BFF?

I'd say Tori Spring, but I'm sure you're all tired of me mentioning the Osemanverse over and over all, so I'll throw in a second character, lol! Annabeth Chase, forever and always! She's such a great character!

[fbfh]

glowing - leo x reader

genre: fluffy mutual pining w quick (cute) resolution

word count: 1.6k

au: none??

pairing: Leo x Daughter of Apollo

requested: hell ye!! hope you enjoy it xo 

warnings: none?? yr half sibs n nico are all protective over you but nothing unhealthy lol

summary: You and Leo have been crushing on each other and cockblocked by your siblings for too long, so you decide to take matters into your own hands. 

reccomended songs: sunshine - atlas, musetta’s waltz - moonstruck soundtrack

a/n: not super edited but what’s new lol  i just forgot how to spell edit for a hot second lmao

requests r open babes xo

Between your siblings being ready to maul someone with arrows (and bad music) at a moment’s notice, and Nico - honorary brother and the Apollo cabin’s unofficial bodyguard, dating is… tricky. Even your uncoordinated eight year old half brother Kevin has offered to bang on a guitar and scream, making everyone’s ears bleed. A few weeks ago, an Ares kid made your little sister Sophie cry, and Nico found out. The entire Ares cabin spent two weeks getting all the skeletons out of their closets. Literally. More human bones would appear every time they cleared some out, rattling unsettlingly. People generally don’t mess with you, or other Apollo kids, which you usually don’t mind. You wouldn’t even give it a second thought.

But you did give it a second thought. And a third. And a fourth. And several others. All of them centered around Leo Valdez. You’ve been admiring him from afar for weeks. You didn’t know why his friends were so hard on him at times. You got the vibe that if he started dating someone, his friends would give him the ‘hurt them and we’ll kill you’ speech instead of the other way around. 

At first simply observing was cathartic, seeing him fix swords and laugh with his friends, but as time went on, it just became frustrating. You just want something to happen, you want to make him as happy as he makes you. The most frustrating part was that there had been so many missed opportunities. There was the time two weeks ago when you were flirting after picking up your harp bow from getting a few touch ups, the time after that you two lost track of time and watched the sunset on the docks, and just days ago when you stayed up late talking in Bunker 9 when neither of you could sleep. 

Every single time, one of your siblings either scared him off or dragged you away before you could leave. Most recently, it was Will and Nico. You could swear Nico was muttering to Will, something along the lines of “what is it with that guy and going after my little sisters?”  This wasn’t surprising, since they got together, the whole cabin has made Nico feel really welcome, resulting in him treating you all like sibling-figures. 

You shake your head, trying to focus on the sparring practice that starts in a few minutes. Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter are arranging the first inter-camp capture the flag match, and everyone’s really excited. And training like crazy. If it goes well, it might happen as frequently as once a month, but you have to get through this one, first. Most of the extra time at camp has been spent practicing sparring, battle strategy, and other tactics. Campers were encouraged to watch other fights closely, try to spot defensive weaknesses, and study technique. Right now, Leo and Jason are demonstrating some method of something or other. You’re watching Leo fight, and you’re just… awestruck. You don't even know what to do with yourself. He's agile and light on his feet, and he moves almost like a cat. His muscles flex as he strikes, and your heart lurches. It looks like he's losing. All of a sudden he smirks, and shoots out a blast of flame, sending Jason stumbling back. Campers applaud at the successful win, and he jokingly bows. 

"Thank you, thank you… I'm amazing, I know-" Jason shoves him jokingly, and clears his throat for the crowd's attention, while Leo gets a glass of water. 

"Okay guys, pair up to practice sparring. Don't be afraid to spar with someone new, the more fighting styles you know the better…" you turn towards the water cooler.  Watching him now, you could swear he's all god. He has a gold halo in the late afternoon sunshine, and a drop of water trickles down his face onto his neck. You make a small strangled noise and know this has gone far enough. You need to do something about this crush before it kills you. You walk over to him, and before you can chicken out, ask, “Hey Leo, want to spar?” He almost chokes on his water. He agrees, seeming pleasantly surprised that you asked him. You pull out your harp bow and he pulls out a large, flat hammer. 

‘Good for offense and defense,’ you think, ‘he’s smarter than he looks…’ 

You start off slowly, getting a feel for each other, and your fighting styles. You spar for hours, and end up tied for wins and losing track of time. He gets you off balance with a fancy move, and next thing you know, there’s a nail gun at your neck. 

“I win,” he pants, smirking. Your cheeks flush.

“Can you- show me how to do that?” you say, catching your breath. He agrees, and walks behind you, hands on yours. He shows you how to shift your weight, causing your opponent to lose theirs. His right hand moves to your thigh, readjusting your alignment. 

“...Keeping your center of gravity low,” he breathes, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “so you won’t fall.” Neither of you move away yet. You turn your face towards his, eyes on the ground.

“Can you… show me again…” you breathe. A smile twitches at his lips. He leans in, and-

“Apollo cabin, inspection time!” You jump away from each other.

“All Apollo campers back to cabin seven asap!” you flinch at your brother’s voice, which you know is directed at you. You sigh, turn towards him, and yell back, “I’m coming, just finishing this sparring match!” You see him retreat and turn back to Leo. Before he knows it, you have him pinned to the ground. 

“Gotcha,” you say with a smirk of your own. You lean further down, and whisper, “Meet me at the docks at midnight.” You pull away, and jog off toward your cabin, leaving Leo flustered and excited. 

Later that night when you finally reach the docks, Leo’s already there. “Hi,” he says when he sees you, “I know I’m a little bit early I just… got nervous…” You giggle and reassure him.

“I just hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long,” 

“Don’t worry,” he replies, “it was worth the wait.” You blush. He looks around, and you realize he’s nervous.

“Don’t worry about the cleaning harpies,” you comfort him, “I left them some muddy armor to distract them, we should be good for a while,” you both laugh a little, and you realize he’s staring at you. You look at him inquisitively, a smile playing at your lips and a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“What?”

"You're glowing," he breathes the words softly, amazed by your presence. You look down at your arms, and blush. Your cheeks turn a soft, fluorescent shade of rose. Bioluminescence was a very rare, pretty useless power that some children of Apollo could have. It did, however, allow you to act as a nightlight for your cabin, which everyone (older kids included) enjoyed. No one in your cabin did well in the dark, so everyone slept a little better since you'd been claimed. 

“You are glowing, right? It’s not just me?” he asks, half joking. 

“Yeah, no,” you confirm, snapping out of your thoughts, “that’s a… thing that happens sometimes. It’s saved me a lot of bruised shins in the middle of the night.” As you both laugh, you decide enough is enough. 

“So, I’m taking the fact that you showed up here at all a good sign,” you say, knowing you have to start somewhere, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” Your adrenaline is racing. Your limbs are tingly, and your heart is beating so fast. You know you have his full attention, which makes all of that worse. It’s now or never, you remind yourself, and I’m choosing now.

“I have a huge crush on you.” Visible surprise and excitement is all over his face and body language, and an involuntary smile starts on his mouth. You continue, partially aware that you’re nervous rambling at this point.

“I was hoping you might say it first, but my siblings and Nico are so intimidating and I was like forget that, I’m seizing the day, and…”

“And?” he asks, in a breathless smile.

“And… do you-”

“I like you too. A lot - just ask my friends, I never shut up about you-” You can’t hold back a giggle as you place your hands on his face and pull him in for a kiss. He’s stunned for a second before he kisses you back, gently resting his hands on your arms. You smile into the kiss, which makes him smile, and-

“What the hell, Valdez?!” 

You jump, pulling apart from him. 

“Will! What are you-” before you can finish the thought, darkness pools at his feet and suddenly Nico is standing in front of him. He greets Will with a mushy pet name and leans in to kiss him, but Will stops him before he can and clears his throat. 

“Wha-” Nico turns his head, “...oh…” 

You laugh in disbelief. Mr. High And Mighty was here for the exact same reason you were. You smile fades as you realize that even though you have dirt on him, he still has dirt on you. 

“You know,” you say, reaching for Leo’s hand, “I don’t know if I saw you here, or what…” 

Will wraps an arm around Nico, and starts in the opposite direction. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you either,” he shrugs.

“Right,” you reply. 

“Right.”

You both drag your respective boyfriends in opposite, more private directions. Suffice it to say, there was a lot more kissing that night - and no more interruptions.

[theonetheycallhannah]

A Mage’s Beginning-Part One

Summary: Anathema of Velena is sent by the Brotherhood of Sorcerers to a kingdom already decimated by a mighty beast when she happens upon another. One who saves her life…as she saves his.

Pairing: Geralt/OFC (Anathema of Velena)

Word Count: 5k

Rating/Warnings: M for language, discussion of mature themes and situations, alcohol consumption, violence, and reflection on a particularly shitty childhood that could be triggering. Body image triggers. No smut for now. Also, warning that it’s stupid long and only half done! Wow! I’m super sorry! Anathema is kind of a long winded little witch.

Inspiration: Netflix’s The Witcher, that sweet, sweet Cavill bod, and the chocolatey crunch of his “Geralt voice!” (idk why, but that’s the imagery for me. Lol!) Also, Ana inspired by the badassness of Anya Chalotra as Yen, the powerful vulnerability of Anna Shaffer as Triss, and the poise and grace of MyAnna Brunning as Tissaia…I honestly can’t believe that the name Anathema is a total coincidence now. Especially considering that my name…is Hannah, a version of all of these. It just came to me as a cool name.

Author’s Note: Like most of my OFCs (and honestly, even EFCs), Anathema is loosely based on myself. She reacts how I feel I would (or sometimes hope I would) in her situation. For those of you who read “Shape of Her” you’ll know that I’m chubby. Anathema was, as well, before her transformation, and she talks about what it was like for her as a child and adolescent growing up. For me, this was a deeply personal thing to write about. I don’t usually talk about the effect my weight has always had and continues to have on my mental health. I’m very fortunate that, unlike Anathema, I have loving parents that have never treated me this way. But in an odd way, their “help” and concern for my physical health has created this sort of villainous aspect of them in my mind, and I suppose that comes out in Ana’s mother here. At any rate, I should probably go back to a counselor about it, but that’s tough during a pandemic and with my work hours. So I write about it, and I guess there ends up being a bit of validation for her/me when Geralt shows interest (and maybe takes that further in part two...no spoilers here!). Not that any of it’s completely healthy, but at least it’s kinda cathartic and fun in the moment if you don’t think too hard about it. I hope the monologue doesn’t bog you down and make you lose interest. If it does, just skip it. It won’t hurt my feelings.

Also, I’m sure my spells are total baloney compared to what’s in the books and deffo to what’s in the show. I just wanted to write something down to sort of show the power being expelled by Ana. These are probably way more Hogwarts than Aretuza! Lol!

Tag List: @sunflowersstan @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @mstgsmy @lareinedususpense @geekycanuck and @littlefreya (omg it let me tag you this time, Freya!) I didn’t tag some of you that I tagged before in Shape of Her, just because I didn’t know if that was something you wanted. (basically, if I didn’t get a concrete response one way or the other, or I wasn’t fairly sure you’d want a tag, I didn’t tag you. I still love all of you!) Please let me know if you want to be tagged or if you want me not to tag you in things! I will not be offended! Also, this is not smutty. It’s pre-smut. lol!

Anathema of Velena was a mage of little renown. Powerful enough, but nothing compared to someone such as Yennefer of Vengerberg. She had worked so hard at Aretuza and all Rectoress Tissaia de Vries could manage to tell her most days was “You could not organize a pair of gloves, Ana. How do you expect to be able to control chaos? I’m not even convinced you have any chaos in you.” She turned away, calling the five other girls out of the lightning tower, some of whom had ampules filled with crackling white light. The rest were in various states of injury from singes to limps. Anathema…well, she had nothing. The lightning didn’t come near her. She left the tower without a prize, but filled with shame, uninjured from the typical failed attempt. She didn’t know why it was worse, but it very much was.

It took her years to finally get over that day.

Her first assignment the brotherhood sent her on was, well, it hardly mattered now, because the city, the whole kingdom was now rent by some foul beast. She’d been sent to help. But had arrived too late. She heaved one of her deeper sighs. “Fuck.” She let out audibly. She’d have to make camp. For the third night. At least. Maybe it was the fifth. She wasn’t certain. But it seemed like too long. She dismounted her chestnut mare, Clove, and started to get her supplies down for her modest tent. Modest, meaning that it appeared modest to the casual observer.

Inside, however, when she’d cast her enchantments, it was almost like home, complete with a full bed, soaking tub, fireplace, table, chairs, and a lovely lounge with a settee and chaise. One of her favorite things about Magic was being able to pack heavy while still traveling light. She was even able to bring a small book collection.

She’d just finished setting everything up and was casting the necessary protective enchantments to the perimeter of her site when she heard a rustle in the bushes about twenty yards away. She attempted to remain calm, but was terrified. She carried only a small silver dagger and a steel short sword that she rubbed with a silver infused oil which she made when she came across good silver and decent tallow. It wore off, but the silver oiled blade was a good compromise when you couldn’t carry both silver and steel. What was she, a fucking Witcher? Anyway, she drew her dagger, but conjured a revelatory wall around her so she could see who or what was out there hunting her. She prayed it wasn’t a kikimore. Anything but a kikimore, she thought. Those shits gave her the creeps. Give her an iron toothed wyvern, or the king of dragons, himself. She could conjure in battle against the best of beasts born of magic, but those insects…no.

There came a keening howl unlike anything she’d ever heard. A drowning scream that almost sounded like it was coming from under the water. Then too many pairs of glowing green eyes started appearing from said bushes. They were horrifying lizard-fish people. And they were walking toward her camp. It would be all too soon that they would walk through the invisibility shield as she hadn’t been able to cast any deflective measures yet. They’d breach her camp in minutes if she didn’t act. She prepared to cast a fire spell on them, hoping that would work, when she heard a deep male voice behind her growl an order.

“Get down! Hide!” Pardon me? She thought. This guy didn’t know who he was dealing with.

It appeared though that she didn’t, either.

The voice had come from a very tall and amply muscled horseman. He wore no armor, only a dark linen tunic tucked into leather breeks, and tall black boots. All was weathered and smelled heavily of horse, ale, and sweat. He quickly dismounted in that way that some men do in which they swing their leg over the horse’s head instead of around the rear. This was the way that, even in her terror, made her feel an unfamiliar but pleasant stirring in the pit of her stomach.

His hair, which she had presumed blonde at first, she noted now to be silvery grey, and well past his shoulders. Maybe longer than her own. He grabbed a sword from the large sheath on his saddle and stalked toward the oncoming rabble of sodden predators.  

She thought…she might have been mistaken but she was fairly sure he’d grabbed a steel sword. Steel would not be very effective on these monsters, if she had sized them up right. She looked to his saddle, seeing the hilt of another blade there. She stepped toward it and slid it out to reveal that this was precisely what had happened. He’d grabbed the wrong weapon in his haste. Well. He was dead. She grabbed the silver sword, sheathing her dagger, and marching toward the scrum around the well-meaning muscle head.

“Selectum ignitus!” She chanted as she wrought her hand in the corresponding motion. This spell burned only victims she chose, leaving others unharmed. It had only stunned these creatures, but it was enough time to allow her would-be hero to catch a small break from his blunder. His thick neck was still in the spindly clutches of one of the largest fish men, apparently less susceptible to fire than the others. Ana stepped up behind him, and with the silver sword, sliced his head clean off at the neck.

“Here.” She said as she tossed him the weapon, the steel sword somewhere on the forest floor to be found later. “They’re waking back up.”

“Mmm.” He mumbled. Right. He was welcome. All this gratitude was just making her blush.

They fought well together, surprisingly. She with her magic and dagger, and he with his signs and sword. She could feel it when he cast them. She noticed him using Aard, so she started casting more similar spells herself. The skirmish was over in minutes. All of the beasts had fallen and she looked at her newfound comrade, both of them covered in blood and muck.

“That was…fun!” She said, in earnest.

“Hmm.” He responded. As if to say, sure, whatever, freak. And began hovering over the corpses, rummaging in his satchel.

“So…these handsome fellows. I’ve never come across them.” She waited a beat, hoping he’d just answer her, knowing that’s what she meant for him to do. Oh, okay. This wasn’t the kind of guy he was. Fair. “What are they?”

“Drowners. Bigger ones are called drowned dead. They come out of the nearby bodies of water.”

How nice. Surely she wouldn’t have any nightmares about that. She'd heard of drowners, as a coastal dweller, but had been fortunate enough to never see one. Until tonight.

“And…not that it’s my business, but…you’re doing what exactly?”

He sighed. “These remains have a lot of useful potion ingredients. I never waste a kill if I can help it. Ginatz’s Acid doesn’t grow on trees, does it?”

“No tree I’ve ever seen, no.” She laughed. He didn’t. Well. This guy would just be a barrel of fun, it seemed. But he did just try to save her life. She should attempt to repay him that kindness. Even if he failed a bit at first, she didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t been there.

“Hey, I have a few more spells to do before my camp is fortified for the night, but then I was going to have some dinner in my tent. I have plenty, if you’d like to join. As a thank you for helping me tonight.”

“Camp?”

“Tempora Portia.” She swept her arm down to create a window in the cloaking spell so he could see her camp in the clearing.

He saw the small tent, that looked as though barely two people could lie down in it, much less sit for a meal.

He eyed her warily. “I think you’ll be lucky enough to eat in there by yourself with just a bowl and a spoon.”

“Ever heard of not judging a book by its cover?” She asked. “Trust me. I have a plump pheasant, some really delicious herbs I got on the way here from Aretuza, and some lovely wine! I’ve been saving it until I got here to share with the court, but…” she looked sheepishly at the ruined city on the hillside. “You’re clearly the only surviving citizen, Sir….”

“Geralt. Just Geralt. I’m not a citizen. I was commissioned to come here, just as you were. Only I was sent by…the neighbors…to eliminate the threat before it reached them, too.”

“Right. Geralt. I’m Anathema of Velena. Nice to meet you, and thank you for saving my life tonight.”

“Anathema, thanks for saving mine. And I guess, I’ll take you up on dinner.”

~~~~~~

She told him to finish his scavenging, and cast a charm onto him and his horse, Roach, to allow them to enter through her custom enchantments.

When she was finished securing her campsite, she went inside her tent to clean up. She conjured lots of warm fragrant water into her copper tub. It would have been more relaxing had she not been covered in the muck of battle. The drowner guts were slimy like fish entrails on her skin and in her hair. She was fairly certain that she also had blood from both her own wounds and Geralt’s spattered across what skin had been exposed during the fight.

She reached for her sponge and a bar of soap that smelled of lilac, one of her favorites, and scrubbed until all of the muck, mud, and blood was gone from her skin and hair.

She felt a telltale shudder come from the perimeter of her camp, indicating that her would-be rescuer and his steed had stepped through them. She had put up sheer modesty curtains somewhat arbitrarily, but today she was glad for them. She had just stepped out of the tub and was fully naked when Geralt entered.

“Erm.” He cleared his throat simultaneously announcing his presence and asking if he could come in. She must applaud him for his excellent communication skills.

“Come on in, I’ll be right there.”

She donned a simple, modest wrap dress that went well beyond the duty of a bath robe and looked infinitely more chic, and piled her damp, dark hair into a messy coil high on her head.

“So glad you could join me. Did you get everything you wanted from the creatures?”

“Everything they could give me. Yes.”

“Good. Well, I’ve not started dinner yet, but it won’t be very long. Why don’t you have a bath? You look like you’ve been riding for weeks with no sleep and you’re caked in the muck of a dozen battles like the one we were just in. I’ll clean and mend your clothes, too.”

“I’m fine thank you.”

“Oh, please? You’ll enjoy dinner so much more if you’re not concerned with how you smell…plus my table isn’t so big that…I couldn’t smell you too.” She giggled. “So as a courtesy to your cook and table mate?”

She looked at him with her doe eyes. Maybe that would work. She loved helping people and making them feel better. She thought he was restraining a smirk. He complied with a grunt and a nod.

“Splendid. I’ll get you some wine, too. I love wine with a bath! Don’t you!?”

“That and silence.” Point taken. She’d let him relax.

He stood in the corner of the bathing alcove as she conjured bath water for him.

“Agua fragra fieretta.” she spoke, and the tub filled with steamy water that smelled like spearmint, cedar, and a hint of lavender. Her own had smelled so different. She hadn’t realized it seemed to change depending on who you were drawing the bath for, never having done so for anyone but herself.

She dug around for a sandalwood soap and a new sponge and set them out for him on the small side table.

“Here you are. I’ll be right back with your penis! I mean, woah. Sorry.” She had turned around at the wrong moment. She knew he’d been taking off his shirt when she was rummaging. But she assumed modesty would mandate that he wait for her to leave before removing his trousers. She had been mistaken. He stood there as naked as the day the midwife pulled him from his mother, hands on his hips just like it was the most blasé thing to ever happen.

“It’s fine. I don’t really think about being shy anymore. Sorry. My clothes are on that stool if you want them. Thanks.”

“Right, great. I’ll be right back with a towel and wine. That’s what I was going to say before. And yeah, then I’ll see what I can do for those clothes.”

She left, procured the wine and a towel, and hurried back, placing the cup audibly on the table so she didn’t have to speak to him. She was so embarrassed. She grabbed his clothes and sat them on the settee for later. She was somehow both glad and disappointed that he did not acknowledge her.

Now, she needed to work on dinner. She’d gotten a lovely pheasant this afternoon with her bow. She’d been gathering fragrant herbs of all kinds along her journey and had traded some of them at market for potatoes, carrots, garlic and pearl onions. She prepped the pheasant, stuffing it with the vegetables, herbs, and some salt and pepper, and rubbed it down on the outside with some olive oil and seasoning. She placed it in her camp oven to cook in the infused oil and its own juices, basting it every so often.

She magically cleaned and mended Geralt’s clothes and tried unsuccessfully not to think about the body that they covered. His arms were as thick as the average man’s legs and his legs were not unlike tree trunks, albeit much more shapely. His chest was monolithic with two great pecs and six well-defined abs. He was also perfectly hairy. No one would confuse him with a bear, but this was definitely no boy. No boy, at all. And Mother Melitele herself would weep at the sight of the cock on this man. Long. At least halfway down his thigh. She didn’t get that good a look, but she thought it was veiny. And it was definitely thick…although she couldn’t compare it to much. To anything, really. Not even the instruments used on her the day she ascended to her current state of perfection. She'd been given powerful herbs to sedate her until the transformation was complete.

She’d arrived at Aretuza a sluggish and overweight wallflower with tiny breasts. When she went over her desires for her new form with the “miracle worker” as she liked to call him, she asked him to upgrade her in every way he could, but to keep her eyes the same shade of green they’d always been. She’d felt that the eyes were too directly attached to the soul and to change them was going too far. The rest, however, was fair game.

And this was her first assignment since her ascension, so she hadn’t been anywhere but her home, which was an unforgiving place, and Aretuza. Little opportunity for romance had presented itself. And she wasn’t even sure how romance would go for her at this point. Were mages adored for their power? Beauty? Or who they were as people independent of those attributes? Was that all she was now? A beautiful magician? She suddenly felt a small pang of regret.

Her eyes shifted involuntarily now to the bath partition. Must have been the movement she caught out of the corner of her eye. Geralt was taking a drink of wine, a very long drink, and when he set the goblet back down, he leaned his head back with a contented sigh. She took the clothes back to the stool when she’d finished, smiled at the scarred, and incredibly heroic man before her, and popped away to finish dinner.

~~~~~~~

She busied herself setting the table with modest candles, and conjuring an extra setting for Geralt. She filled a pitcher with an “agua potum” spell and put her wine vessel out. As she was tabling the pheasant, her eye caught movement again in the “bath room.” Geralt had gotten out of the tub and was drying off. His back was no less impressive than his front and his ass was like a fresh, crisp apple. She’d always loved apples. In her dreamy haze, she'd come too close to the hot camp oven and burned her hand. She let out a whispered but audible “fuck” and brought her hand quickly to her mouth to cool the fire with saliva.

It helped a little, but not much. She continued to prepare as Geralt got dressed and he was out right as dinner was on, wine goblet in hand.

“Smells nice.” He complemented. She was shocked, but still in a lot of pain from the burn.

“It better be the best fucking thing I’ve eaten in ages to make it worth searing the skin off my finger here!” She put her hand to her mouth again, and brought it out, shaking it.

He sat his goblet on the table and went outside, all without a word. She was confused. Wondering how she could have offended him, but honestly, not really caring. She’d tried. She sat down. Exhausted. He came back in with the satchel he’d been wearing and packing with solutions from those corpses.

He walked around the table to kneel in front of her, held out his hand, and raised his eyebrow expectantly. She gave him her injured hand, extending her index finger to indicate the affected area.

“You know, I’ve seen men lose half their faces to fire. This isn’t so bad.” He rifled through the bag for a vial of clear oil with bits of purple floating in it.

“Did they live?” She asked, amused.

“A few.” He smirked, dabbing a small amount of the oil onto his index finger and applying it to hers.

Her relief was instant and evident on her face.

“Wow, that feels so much better. Thank you! What is that?”

“A simple infusion. Oil of lavender. Here.” He gave her the vial.

“Oh I couldn’t.”

“Take it. I make more all the time. It’s damn near free. I’ll show you how, too, so you're prepared for next time. It’s essential for a healer’s kit. Many uses.” These were more words than she’d heard him speak all together since they’d met. She decided not to remark upon it.

“Well thank you. I hope you’re hungry! I think the pheasant is ready to be torn!”

They filled their plates with juicy, savory sections of the bird and large chunks of the vegetables that had become pleasantly tender inside it. Thyme and rosemary, onion and garlic danced off the tongue, complimented by the salt and a dash of ground peppercorn for zest. For once, a meal tasted even better than it had smelled and she had forgotten the terror of the fight with the drowners, the pain of her burn, even the startling sight of the naked man in her tent, and relaxed into the pleasure of a delicious meal.

This is one of the reasons I was fat before, she told herself. And made sure she stopped eating before she'd filled herself to gluttony.

She noticed that her companion was eating…enthusiastically. She was on the verge of saying ravenously, but there was an element of refinement to it that forbade her from using the more savage descriptor. He seldom drank, and most rarely from his water cup.  He liked the wine, then. She liked this fellow. Quite a lot. He stabbed large portions onto his fork and put them easily into his wide mouth. But even though he took larger bites, he did take his time in chewing, savoring the succulent food. She appreciated this from him.

"You're going to have to finish the poor bird off. I'm stuffed." she patted her tummy, demure now, as it had never been in her recent memory.

"Hmm." he grunted in protest. This one she couldn't quite translate past general disagreement.

"What?" she prodded.

"We both know you didn't need any help taking down this bird alone. Even with the vegetables. It's all incredible, by the way. Best meal I've had in ages."

"First of all, thank you, I quite liked it too, and secondly, it's called restraint. Ever heard of it?" she sassed him back.

"I've heard of it, yes. Can't say we've ever crossed paths, though." he held her gaze as he drank deeply from his goblet. Was it suddenly warmer in the tent?

"Well, it might be a good idea to seek it out here and there." she said, hiding well the feathers he'd just ruffled. "Food and I have a volatile history. I have to show restraint or all of this is gone." she indicated her physical form. She hadn't truly intended to make him look at her, but he was. He was holding her in his gaze in a way that was utterly alien to her.

"Mmm." he grunted, as if to express his understanding.

"But enough about me. What about you? It's not every day I meet a witcher!"

His amber eyes met hers, inscrutable, but not pleased.

"You knew."

"Of course I knew. I have eyes and ears, and all kinds of senses working. And all of them caught wind of what you were the moment you dismounted your horse."

"And yet you helped me. Fought with me. Saved me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Most people don't want a witcher around. They'd prefer the monsters we kill. Even when we're summoned to communities, invited, we're a pariah until the job is done. We're seen as the…lesser evil."

"Tell me Geralt. Did you make the choice to become a witcher?"

"No."

"Do you think I made the choice to be a conduit?" This question, he didn't answer. She thought he may not know. She decided then to tell him her story. How she came to be a mage, and the hell she went through to get where she was.

"Do you know what my nickname was as a child? It wasn't anything cute, like a vegetable or fruit or a baked good, or even a cuddly little creature, no. No term of endearment would suit me. I was called 'Rat.' Because you see, as I mentioned, I have a complicated past where food is concerned, and this comes from my youth. When I would sneak into the pantries and steal food. My mother and the staff thought at first there was a large rat, or even a raccoon behind the lost inventory, for at first, I left behind traces and made a mess of things. But after a while, I got good. Covered my tracks. Then mother started blaming the staff. Beating them, then firing most of them. No one seemed to notice how fat I was getting. Me being the middle of five girls. Eldest two sisters already married off to wealthy business men from town and bringing the bratty little grandchildren around, the younger girls learning dance and music, and generally being full of charm. I was in the background. Until one night, mother found me. She was searching the pantry for a tonic for indigestion when she saw me burrowing, trying to hide between sacks of potatoes. She hauled me out and dove for a long wooden spoon on the worktop in the kitchen. She beat me bloody with that spoon. I couldn't sit and could hardly walk for days."

She took a drink from her goblet, fortifying her. She didn't tell this story often. In fact, she hadn’t told anyone but her best friend Codrick, the blacksmith's apprentice. And that had taken many years.

"She started giving me smaller portions at dinner. Insisting that I wouldn't find a husband in my current state and threatening to sell me to a brothel if I didn't marry in good time. I was nearly starving, but still not getting thin fast enough to satisfy her. She made me run around the perimeter of our grounds. If I wasn't back in time, she'd set our wild bull out after me. There were a few times I was nearly gored. But I kept sneaking into the cupboards late at night. They were locked now, but once I told Codrick what was happening, he helped me by forging me a spare key. She kept calling me 'Rat' which was interesting. As if the sneaking and stealing was the more deplorable side of me than my actual size. She never called me 'Pig.' Perhaps because at least pigs had a use. Pigs could be sold or slaughtered for food. Rats were just a nuisance. The last time she caught me, she hauled me into the kitchen and reached for her wooden spoon again. But this time, when she reared back to strike at me, the spoon had turned into a vicious raven. It squalled and flailed and she let go of it, shooing it away. But it didn't relent. It clawed and pecked at her head and face until her hair was patchy and ragged and her face was a bloody mess. One eye was completely gone, the other, likely to be lost. But she could see well enough to tell where the raven landed after it had left her alone. Right beside me, as if it was trying to calm my still quivering form."

"So that was your conduit moment?" Geralt asked, knowing the answer.

"Yes. Lady de Vries showed up at our door not a moment too soon. The Madame from the local brothel had just agreed to my mother's price. There was a rather tense moment where the money had already changed hands and Tissaia had to threaten both women with rather unpleasant repercussions. She was having me and there would be no arguments. Actually, though, the whole experience of being fought over gave me the confidence I needed to confess my true feelings to Codrick and kiss him before we left the town. I'd fancied him for years but never had the guts to tell him."

"I'm sure you have a point to telling me this life story of yours." Geralt said, patiently, but clearly ready for her to wrap it up.

"Right. Sorry. My point is, most of us that are born or imbued with magic have some story like this. I'm certain you're no different. I could go on with horrors at Aretuza, too, just like I'm sure you could with stories of…where was it you were trained? Kaer Morhen?"

He looked at her skeptically.

"Wolf amulet around your neck. School of the Wolf. I thought that was Kaer Morhen."

"Mmhmm." oh, a two syllable grunt. His vocabulary was proving vast.

"Why shun you over a life you didn't choose? And if I have a fucked up past too, and I'm still dealing with that trauma, what right would I have to dismiss you or consider you an unworthy brother in arms? Or dinner companion? Or maybe even travel companion? After all, we fought well together and we don't know what's out there laying waste to the countryside."

"Suppose you're right."

"About which part?" this always happened to her as someone who never shut up. She never knew whether "you're right" was a blanket statement covering an entire monologue, or just certain parts that someone wanted to subscribe to.

"The first part. I'm still not sure about traveling companions. Or mages, if I'm honest. No offense."

"None taken. If it makes you feel better, I'm still very new to being a mage. I don't have any bad mage habits. I'm not even that good of a mage. I had to hand assemble this tent before I spelled it."

"Well, you did a fine job." he chuckled. "It looked…sturdy, from the outside."

"That's what I was going for. And why don't you just…try me for this expedition. I'll sign a contract saying that it's not your fault if I die. Not that anyone would care. Plus, we'll live in luxury every night, and I can make anything taste delicious with bare minimum ingredients."

"Tempting, but won't it be a little…cozy with both of us in here?"

She looked at him, incredulous.

"Remember the part where I'm a mage?" she walked over to the sitting area and contorted her hands toward the wall. "Addendum Sanctorum."

She beckoned him through a new flap in the canvas to a modest, but still accommodating room with a large, plush bed, a few sturdy, simple chairs, a small table, and a bathing area of its own, complete with a stash of sponges, soaps, and towels.

"See? It may not be all of the comforts of home, but it's hardly roughing it compared to the alternative, am I wrong?" She turned to look at him, but he was much closer than she'd expected him to be. She looked directly up into that piercing amber gaze that was unlike any she'd seen before. And he looked so…dangerous. And yet she wasn't afraid. At least not primarily. What she was mostly feeling was desire. She wanted those strong, skilled hands to touch her. She wanted to be held. She hadn't been held since she was a child. And a very young one, at that. She could feel something mutual coursing between them. And that was the thing that terrified her. The thought that he might be hungry for her in that way. He ran his hand along the slope of her temple and cheek down to her chin.

"I don't recall saying I'd mind sharing a cozy space with you, Ana."

TBC in Part Two