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En'ca Minne

Summary:

One beautiful man changes Jeongguk's views on life, the world and himself.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Novigrad.

 

It’s been a while since Jeongguk has been to the free city of Redania. He could never forget the smell though, no matter how hard he tried. The sour smell of piss and death lingering in the streets, beggars lining the alleyways hoping to find a wandering traveler to plunder whatever he holds inside of his pockets. And if the traveler doesn’t get massacred by one of the thugs belonging to Whoreson Junior then they surely will get eaten by one of the many hideous beasts swerving the city by night.

 

To say Jeongguk despises the city might be an understatement. It’s not that he doesn’t like big cities filled with people, it’s more likely that he hates big cities ruled by the Eternal Fire. A religious organization that claims a bowl of fire will protect those who worship it against monsters and other evil beings. Jeongguk scoffs at the mere thought. Their order - the Order of the Flaming Rose - has been putting him out of work ever since he left Temeria. They don’t even have any knowledge when it comes to hybrids, necrophages or even just beasts. It’s no wonder they lose so many recruits in one year.

 

His horse makes its way towards the Southern Gate into the city. The city is located near the sea, making it impossible to foresee any other way in except for the harbor. Which is always filled with ships from different sides of the world, bringing goods for traders to sell off - for a ridiculous price - to naive buyers. Novigrad was economically thriving, having countless of factories, craftsman, banks and even a zoo.

 

Nearing the gate, he could see the path is blocked by a queue of different non-humans. A row of scowling dwarfs, mumbling elfs and annoyed halflings formed before a table where a man with a red-white colored armor sits, writing something down on a piece of parchment. He brings his horse to a halt, stopping it at the beginning of the lengthy queue. He dismounts his horse and gives it a soft pat on its chestnut colored coat at the base of its neck. He was gifted the steed by a tradesman in Nilfgaard that hired him to get rid of the Nekkers that kept attacking his suppliers, which left him with nothing to sell and a bunch of dead employees. Jeongguk followed the tracks into their nest and killed every single one of them. When he returned the trader gave him one of his finest horses as a form of payment which Jeongguk reluctantly accepted, rather having gotten paid in money since his armour was in dire need of repair.

 

As he goes to stand in the queue, he notices that non-humans aren’t the only ones gathering on the bridge to the gate. A handful of guards, dressed in the Redanian colors, paraded through the crowd, hands clamping around their halberds as if they’re ready to strike at any time. Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow at the tension circulating around them. One of them lands their eyes on Jeongguk, his gaze melting into something akin to recognition. He points his chubby finger towards the Witcher while exclaiming, “Hey, are ya not the d’yaebl ?”. Jeongguk grumbles annoyed at the name, the one he required after the recent events in Vizima… he shakes his head at the cruel memories threatening to flood his mind. He takes his horse by its reins and leads it toward the guard that had recognized him, although to be fair it was hard not to with the way Jeongguk looks. His hair alone makes him stand out in a crowd, the purple and black locks being an abnormality that no one has ever seen before. His pale skin could almost make one think that he’d risen from the death, although - with the experiments he has been through - that wouldn’t have been too far from the truth. The deep red scar being the only thing that adds a little color to his face. And if none of those things give away what he is, who he is, his amber colored eyes and the slitted pupils surely will.

 

When he stands before the guard, he notices that other people are staring at him. Mumbling to each other about the presence of a witcher in their midst, and not just a witcher but the d’yaebl . He looks the guard up and down, the man seemingly smaller than him and a thicker built, especially around the stomach area.

“What do you want?” Jeongguk growls, feeling targeted by all the people staring. The little man gulps before answering, “I-I just… I…”

“Are you planning on telling me or not? I have other matters to attend to,” Jeongguk vaguely gestures at the queue that only seems to get longer. The guard follows his gaze before scratching his throat, “There’s no need for ya to wait, witcher. This queue is for non-humans only.”

Jeongguk cocked another eyebrow at that, scoffing a little, “I don’t know if you’ve observed me well enough, but these features don’t necessarily scream human to most people.”

The guard looks a little lost after those words, contemplating about what to say next. Just when Jeongguk is about to turn around and make his way back to the row, the chubby man speaks up. “Ya might not look human, but y’are definitely not one of those bastards. The kings is searching for one of the members of Foltest’s Royal Court and since that sorcery son of a bitch has close ties to non-humans...”

The witcher frowns, “Why is Radovid in search of the Royal Sorcerer?”. As far as he knew both Temeria and Redania were on good terms with each other, both Radovid and Foltest always being on the same page when it comes to military and economics. It even went so far that Foltest had allowed the Eternal Fire to spread their word through Temeria.

 

“Didn’t ya hear, witcher? Foltest has been assassinated by those magical wenches and their male pets. And now Radovid is out for blood,” the guard looks around as if everything is supposed to be a secret that nobody is allowed to hear. He leans a little closer towards the witcher, who’s observing the guard skeptically.

“They say that the streets of Temeria are drenched with magical blood. At the end of this massacre, none of those bitches will be alive,” he grunts with a small, twisted smile on his face. Jeongguk feels his hand twitch at his side, the need to give the guard a well deserved punch to the face. He was never fond of the Lodge of Sorceresses, but to hear this despicable man talk about them like this… it irks him. The slightest annoyance burns inside of his stomach when he leans closer towards the guard, just like the other had done moments ago. Their noses only inches away from each other, “you better choose your next words carefully, my good man, or I’m afraid that you won’t have any hands to carry that hellbard of yours anymore.”

Frightened the man stumbles backwards, until his back hits the stone rail of the bridge. Eyeing the two blades upon the witcher’s back with big terrified eyes. One of the swords was made out of steel and the other made out of silver. It was always rumored that the silver weapon was made to fight and kill monsters with, while the other was made to cleave into human flesh. His gaze turns to his fellow guards, trying to make them catch his bewildered look so they would come to his defense if the mutant would try to hurt him. But Jeongguk just merely lets out an amused snort, before he turns on his heels and leads his horse towards the front of the row, dismissing the weird looks everyone is giving him.

 

As soon as he enters the city, the smell hits him twice as hard. Disgusted, he scrunches his nose. Some things never change. He guides his horse whom he had named ‘Roach’ - just like all the other horses he’s ever possessed - towards the stables near the South Gate. He ties the horse to the wooden pillar near the trough and the bale of straw provided for the animals..

“I’ll be back soon, Roach,” Jeongguk tells the stallion while he runs his hand through the blonde, wavy manes, “I just gotta have my armour fixed.”

The horse snickers, lightly pushing his nose against Jeongguk’s side to send him on his way. It makes the witcher let out a small chuckle, being amused by the horse’s want to get away from this stinking city. He can’t blame the animal however, he’d rather had stopped in Oxenfurt but his armour is barely granting any protection at this point. Therefore he was forced to halt in Novigrad, no matter how much he disliked the city and the religion that had reign over it.

 

He holds his hands up to the horse, as a sign that he’ll won’t linger about and makes his way to Hierarch Square, the plaza filled with traders and buyers going about their business. In the middle of the square there’s a group of people surrounding a man standing on a box, preaching about whatever beliefs he has. One of the other things that annoyed Jeongguk, most of the villagers were so desperate to grasp onto something with a higher power Something that would take all the responsibility they have over their lives away so they can blame it to whatever God they believe in. He has met plenty of people that blame whatever Gods for the misfortunes in their lives, like a woman that blamed a higher entity for the beatings she got from her husband. Not the fact that her husband was a total and utter dick that should keep his hands to himself.

 

As he passes the little gathering of religious bullshit, the preacher’s shocked, thunderous voice echoes in his ears.

“By the Eternal Fire, a witcher. People lock away your children, for these creature will take away your younglings to mutate them into hideous beings designed to kill. Hide your wives because they don’t respect the marital vows, they’ll invade your house and take away the purity of your maidens.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, it’s always the same crap whenever he arrives at a new city. He’s a witcher not a rapist, nor a kidnapper. It’s true that witchers used to take in children to train them in combat and then putting them through the Witcher trials, and other experiments. But those were only orphans, children nobody would miss and they’d only recruit the stronger ones. The ones who were brave enough. Did all of them survive the trials? No, they didn’t. Most of the time there were only one or two survivors, just like Jeongguk was the only survivor of his group.

 

Being aware of the hideous trials these children were put through, peasants from a nearby town took it upon themselves to exterminate every witcher that was skilled in performing the trials of Grasses. This one only having a mortality rate of one out of seven survivors, given it was performed by a witcher proficient in the trials. They had to stop recruiting witchers after those massacres, not wanting to put more children through the same horrors nor wanting to train the few surviving witchers in performing the trials.

 

“That’s not just a witcher, that’s the d’yaebl , “ a woman’s screech startles him out of his thoughts. The annoyed feeling he had earlier returning in tenfold, feeling the whole group’s gaze burn into his back. His fists clenches at his sides and he considers turning around, wanting to scare the shit out of them so they would leave him alone.

“Everywhere he goes, nothing but death and despair follows,” a man whispers loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. It’s then that he decides to leave the matter be, it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like he’s planning to stay any second longer in this horrid city then he has to, so he continues making his way towards the blacksmith while the whispering behind him slowly fades out.

 

He reaches the little white house at the other side of the square. It’s being squashed between a whole row of other houses that look like they are about the burst out of line. A dwarf with a big orange beard and a bald head is busy molding the molten iron into the cracks of a sword on an anvil. He peeks at Jeongguk sideways as the mutant stops beside him. He turns to him with a big smile that shows crooked, rotting teeth, “What can I do ye for?”

Jeongguk doesn’t miss the way the dwarf’s eyes widen a little at the sight of his slitted ones. The witcher vaguely gestures towards the armour hanging loosely on his body, “I need to have some repairs done,” is all he says. The tiny non-human glances at his mail plate, frowning when he sees the cracks at both sides of the armour, “it looks like ye have been crushed.”

Jeongguk shrugs, “that’s because it got crushed… by a griffon to be precise,” no ounce of amusement in his voice yet the dwarf snickers entertained.

“Yeah, those buggers are a pain in the arse,” he answers like he knows what it is like to fight a griffon, let alone like he ever saw one. Not wanting to further the irritating small talk Jeongguk scowls before inquiring whether the dwarf is planning to repair his armour or not.

“Aye,’ he grunts, “but it’s gonna cost ye. The mail is completely destroyed so I’ll probably have to get some extra materials shipped from Temeria to be able to restore it to its original state.”

 

Jeongguk already felt the lightweight of his pouch where it was tied to his belt. The irking thought that he wasn’t going to be able to afford the repairs played in the back of his mind.

“How much?”

“Well, the materials and the shipping, add the time that I’ll have to work to that… then it’ll be around 100 coins. D’ye have the coin, witcher?”

The witcher’s face falls, and the dwarf clearly picks up on it, “if ye don’t have the coin…,” he starts. Jeongguk quickly shakes his head, “I’ll get the coin, don’t worry. I’ll do some work around here, enough vermin in this place,” he grunts. The dwarf considers the deal, looking the mutant up and down. A rare apparition indeed. The witcher is dressed in a dark blue tunic, protected by a black armor that’s closed by three rows of buckles lining from his chest to his stomach. His shoulders plated with plain black steel. His armour is not that impressive, in all honesty, it’s simple and has no decorations unlike the armour that guards and soldiers wear. The gauntlets made out of brown leather that shield his hands look worn.

 

If the mutant fails to pay him for his services, he can always keep the armour. There are enough naive buggers that’d love to buy an armour used by the d’yaebl , and they’d be willing to pay a generous coin for it as well. He huffs, “fine, I’ll do it. But if ye don’t get the coin, I’m keeping the armour, witcher.”

Jeongguk nods reluctantly, not looking forward to losing the only decent armour he has. Of course he has a back up one, but it’s not nearly as firm or grants as much protection as this one does. But he doesn’t really have a choice, he doubts his armour will be able to hold on for a while longer and well, Novigrad is filled with gruesome creatures. There’ll be definitely some work for a witcher around here.

The dwarf gestures for Jeongguk to take off his armour and leave it at the work table placed against the white wall of the house. Unbuckling the straps, he shrugs the cuirass off, and goes to unstrap the shoulderplates. He carefully lays down his armoury, turning back to the dwarf.

“Ye can come get it, and pay me, in about two weeks,” he grunts before he turns his back to Jeongguk and continues to slamming a hammer on the sword he was working on earlier. Jeongguk leaves without saying goodbye.

 


 

When he arrives at the stables, Roach is still very much engrossed in stuffing his stomach full with hay. He smooths his hand against the stead’s soft brown coat, softly stroking it while the horse eats.

“We gonna have to stay a little while longer, Roach,” he sighs. The horse bristles as he turns to look at Jeongguk. The witcher snorts as he slightly nods, “yeah, I’d rather leave right now as well… but to repair the armour I need coins, and to get coins I have to work.”

Roach’s brown eyes stare at him like he’s intently listening to what Jeongguk is saying. The latter softly pats the horse on his neck.

 

He unties the brown burlap sack that was fastened to the brown leather saddle on the horse’s back. It carried all his belongings; a few breeches and a second armour. He didn’t have a lot, he couldn’t have a lot if he has to travel from city to city, country to country. A witcher doesn’t have the luxury to stay in one place, needing to keep finding work and cleansing the world of it’s horrors. He turns his gaze back to the horse that went back to devouring the last bit of hay the bale had to offer.

“You be good, okay?”

Jeongguk turns around and starts making his way towards a cheap inn he passed by earlier, he hears Roach neighing as if his laughing at the suggesting that he’d be anything but good.



It takes the witcher fifteen minutes to reach the inn that he saw earlier. The facade wasn’t really inviting, the white stone walls chipping and the wooden structure surrounding them creaking. The building looked like it hadn’t seen a proper cleaning in years.

Against the wall there were a few men emptying their stomachs, undoubtedly having drunk too much by the way they needed to steady themselves against the wall with one hand. Jeongguk scrunches his nose at the sour smell of vomit, it brings up some memories of when he got shitfaced and woke up the next day in a puddle of his own bile.

 

Disregarding the drunks, he steps inside of the establishment and is met with a poorly furnished tavern.

There were four tables spread out inside of the small space, at the left wall there was a bar with the innkeeper serving beers to a guy with pitch black hair and a slender body. The walls at cracks in them, and it was clear that the building was way past its prime. The coat of arms of Redania was hung on the middle of the left wall, right above the bar. A red shield decorated with a white bird that carries a staff in its right talon and a crown on its head. In the middle of its chest there was a black shield with a yellow cross on it.

Some wooden chandeliers softly sways on the ceiling, their chains looking like they are just about to give out under the weight, being too worn by age.

 

Jeongguk sits himself down next to the other guest at the bar, dropping his burlap sack to the ground. He gives the man a quick glance from the corner of his eyes then turns to the patron.

“Do you have a room for hire?”

The innkeeper gives him a suspicious look, “sorry, we don’t rent out rooms to mutants,” he grunts dismissively.

Jeongguk clenches his fist once again today, about ready to bang it on the bar but a small movement on his right catches his attention. Before he’s well aware, a mop of pitch black hair is in his face and he’s being stared at by two small brown eyes. The pale man he saw earlier is now standing mere inches away from him, a flame in his eyes that burns with interest for the stranger.

“A mutant, you say?”

The man lets out with a gravelly voice, like he’s drowsy and has just awoken from a long slumber. Jeongguk leans a little backwards, trying to get the stranger out of his personal space but the man only shuffles closer as he studies the witcher’s face with intent.

The stranger’s eyes fall onto the medallion Jeongguk is wearing around his neck.. The metal shaped in the form of a head of a wolf lays heavy against the middle of his collarbones. A symbol to represent the profession of witcher, each of one of them has one. His eyes flicker back up to the witcher’s.

“Are you perhaps a witcher, good sir?”

The witcher’s slitted eyes narrow, “I wonder what gave it away,” he grunts irritated. The short, pale male excitedly claps his hands as he steps away from Jeongguk. He leans against the bar as he smiles so wide that his teeth and gums appear.

“Uncle, give this man the best room you have,” he exclaims as he gestured towards Jeongguk while he shifts his gaze towards the man behind the bar.

 

An unamused look settles on the grumpy man’s face, “what do you mean ‘best room’? All of the rooms here are the same,” he growls. He turns to Jeongguk, “I’ll ready your room, witcher. But don’t expect any luxuries.”

He throws one last annoyed glance at his nephew, and makes his way towards the corridor where the bedrooms are.

A moment of silence falls over the two men that were left behind at the bar, the pale one still having his eyes glued to Jeongguk’s form. The latter shifts uncomfortably, waiting for the patron to return so he could retreat in his room and have a good night's rest.

“A witcher, huh?”

Jeongguk looks towards the short man, cocking his eyebrow in response. The black haired man continues with a smile, “what brings you to Novigrad?”

Another moment of silence while Jeongguk sizes up the man he has before him. He is wearing a loose white tunic that had laces woven into the sides, to keep the front and back together. Simple black trousers hugged his legs, and were pulled up to his waist where he had his tunic tucked in. Seeing as there wasn’t any use of lace, satins or silks, Jeongguk can tell that this man wasn’t from wealth. Then again, his uncle is the innkeeper of this wreck of a tavern.

“I don’t see why I should tell an unknown man about my business here,” he simply answers, giving a small shrug. It only widens the grin on the other’s face, though. He straightens his back and sticks his hand out to the witcher, “of course, where are my manners? The name is Yoongi, I’m a soon-to-be famed poet.”

 

Jeongguk already knows where this is going to go, as soon as he heard the word ‘poet’ he knew what the next sentence would be. He met a few poets, troubadours and writers on his journeys. And each and every one of them asked the same question. He ignores the hand the man offers him, proceeding to scowl down onto the smaller man. After a few seconds he retreats it, his smile never wavering.

“You wouldn’t have had any interesting adventures by chance? Something I could write about?”

There it was.

 

Jeongguk doesn’t like writers. Not since the last time he had to deal with one of them. Right after the events in Vizima… when he travelled straight to the Redanian Kingdom, he had to stop overnight at an inn in Velen. There he’d heard a troubadour singing about a name that would stick to his skin until he dies, d’yaebl. The devil of the North.

The minstrel had heard about what happened in Vizima, and decided to write a song about the mutated human that was to blame for the catastrophe that took place. Ever since that moment, Jeongguk deemed writers and their like to be parasites that leeched of others misfortunes to earn some coin.

 

In response to the pale man called Yoongi he lets out an annoyed grunt, dismissing his attempt to an introduction. The poet didn’t let go that easily, however.

“Your hair is a very unnatural shade of purple, witcher,” he exclaims thoughtfully, as if he was trying to remember where he heard of such weird color before. After a few seconds he snaps his fingers and a look of euphoria appears on his face.

“You are the one they call d’yaebl , are you not?”

Jeongguk wonders how so much excitement could fit in such a tiny, scraggy body. But yet here he was standing opposite a man so slender and pale - it looked like he would pass out from fatigue - that would almost jump out of his skin.

He lets out a low growl at the mention of the name that’s been following him since he left Temeria. His slitted eyes narrowing, “my name is Jeongguk.”

If this person was to bother him then he at least could use the name he was born with, instead the name he’s been cursed with.

Yoongi opens his mouth as if he wants to say something but before any sound could come out, his uncle emerges from the corridors and grumbly makes his way back towards the counter. He shoots a questioning look towards his nephew when he sees the annoyed, bordering hostile, look on Jeongguk’s face but Yoongi is too engrossed in the possibility of finally having something to write about to notice.  

 

“It’s five coins a night,” the man grunts after a while. Jeongguk simply nods, still keeping his eyes on the curious artist before him. The latter was about to open his mouth again, but not being too keen on whatever he was about to say the witcher cuts him off, “do you happen to know if there’s some work to be done around here?”. He turns his gaze to Yoongi’s uncle, the man just staring at him like he did before. A distrusting glint in his eyes, his face lightly contorted in disgust like he might puke if the witcher stayed too long in his presence. It’s not something that Jeongguk wasn’t used to, everywhere he went people swore at him, spit at him or just plainly avoided being around him. Certain villages would even try to chase him away before he had set one foot inside of their gates, because they thought he’d cause the same damage he’d cost at the little village near Vizima. He doesn’t like thinking about what happened there.

“What kind of wo--,” but before the poor man can finish his sentence, the poet - who has been silently listening to their short conversation - interrupts, “witcher work, of course! Slaying monsters, protecting civilians from evil, curin--”.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes before he jumps in, “you got work or not?”

At this Yoongi smirks, an amused glint in his eyes as he undoubtedly spins a mischievous plan inside his head. He hums, “I know someone who does… I’ll tell you, provided I get to write about it after you gloriously brought the task to an end.”

 

The witcher contemplates the idea. He really did not like writers and their kind, he really didn’t. But if he wants to be able to get his armour back… an exasperated sigh leaves his lips as he softly nods. He straightens his back, “now tell me about the job.”

A broad smile paints Yoongi’s face.

 

 


 

The sun has started to make it’s way down, coloring the sky all kinds of red and pink hues. The streets of Novigrad look even more sinister in the dark then they had done during the day. But the idea that there could be monsters lurking on every corner might be the reason why Yoongi is acting all nervous as they make their way to the contractor of the job. The poet refused to tell Jeongguk more about it other than that the contractor was at a loss.

 

After dropping his belongings in the meager room that the innkeeper had provided for him -it only had one cabinet and a straw bag to sleep on - Yoongi had led him through the slums of Novigrad. As time passed, the houses got nicer and even the streets started to look brighter. Some houses having ivy growing up their walls, others have beautiful flower perks on their corners, there are flags hanging in Redanian colors above the streets. It was a huge contrast to the grey, stinking and molt-ridden streets they came from.

 

Yoongi halts in front of a huge building made out of orange stone, in front of it a little fountain that echoes a soothing sound of water streaming into the bowl below. A wooden staircase leads up to a balcony on the house, where a series of doors are placed. Besides the staircase there is another huge oaken door, seemingly the main entrance, and a wooden plate hanging next to it. The sign has a white flower painted on it with purple tendrils, underneath it is written ‘the passiflora’ in curly purple letters.

He turns to Yoongi, who’s still wearing the same smirk he’d been wearing in the inn, and frowns, “Why did you bring me to a brothel?”

The poet’s smirk widens, “for the job, of course. The brothel owner has been struggling with… certain attacks,” he deadpans. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he walks past a very confused Jeongguk and into the establishment. The mutant grunts displeased as he follows the pale man inside.

 

The first thing that Jeongguk notices when he walks inside is the different males and females dancing in clothes that leave nothing to the imagination. Some of them settling themselves down next to a customer, softly touching their thighs as they whisper things in their ears that are just for them to hear. A few takes them upstairs, indulging in other sorts of entertainment that isn’t for other eyes to see.

A soft tune is echoes in the warm space coming from a troubadour playing the lute, a young man wearing a blue roundlet with a grey quill tucked into its side. As the witcher takes up the room he doesn’t notice it when Yoongi slips away towards a gorgeous man standing in the corner of the room, overlooking everything. Jeongguk continues to look around, unaware of being left alone by the poet.

 

The walls of the brothel are made out of dark brown wooden planks alternated by dark red paint. On the left side of the room there are multiple satin and silken cushions pushed up against the wall for guests to take place and let themselves get spoiled by the courtesans. As he investigates his eyes meet the gaze of a pair of deep blue ones. Startled by their unnatural blue color he blinks a few times, the eyes gone. Instead he finds a slender man with golden tanned skin sitting in the pile of pillows, wrapped around the body of a much bulkier man wearing the armour of the Order of the Flaming Rose. Jeongguk lets his eyes slide over the tanned man’s body. He’s wearing an emerald colored, lace robe with underneath it a short, black loin cloth that would just cover his member. Although if he concentrated he could clearly see the outline of the man’s co--

 

“A little birdie told me you have come to solve my problem, witcher,” a sultry voice drags him back from his trance. If Jeongguk could experience emotions he would probably feel embarrassed getting caught staring at one of the courtesans. Might have even blushed.

He quickly regains his composure as he turns to look at the man before him. A round face with soft, squishy cheeks and plump lips stands before him, the eyes shining knowingly as if he knew something that Jeongguk didn’t.

“My name is Jimin, and I’m the owner of this fine establishment,” the man speaks again but this time there is the faintest teasing tone hidden in his voice. His lips forming into a smirk, “I see you are enjoying our good.”.

Jeongguk clears his throat, “Uhm… Yoongi told me you had a job for me?”

Deciding not to react to Jimin’s teasing, he changes the subject in hopes that the latter will forget his staring and he could retract back to his quarters to take a well deserved rest. Jimin hums, “I do. Follow me, we shall discuss this in private,” he gestures for Jeongguk to follow him. Before following him, Jeongguk chances one more glance towards the pile of cushions, hoping to see the gorgeous man still sitting there but alas, it seems that already has taken his leave with his customer. The witcher couldn’t help but wonder that if the courtesan had turned around in front of him, he would’ve been able to see his bottom with the limited cover up the loin cloth would provide. He hurriedly shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts. There wasn’t any reason for him to ashamed for it, Jeongguk has had plenty of flings with both women and men on his journeys but there was a time and place for this kind of thinking. And now was not the time.

 

He follows the owner into a backroom behind the counter, a small room filled with barrels of wine and a table with two chairs placed in the middle of it. Jimin gestures towards the other chair as he takes a seat at the table. Jeongguk sits down on the chair opposite of him, leaning back against the seat rest and crossing his arms as he tentative watches the other.

“So how do you know Yoongi?” Jimin inquires, letting his eyes slide over Jeongguk’s appearance, no doubt asking himself how the man got that weird purple shine in his, otherwise, black strands.

Jeongguk hates small talk, always beating around the bush instead of getting straight to the point. As such, he can’t grasp how it would’ve been important for the petite human to know where he met Yoongi. He lays down his hands on the oaken table; “tell me about the job,” he grunts. His voice making it obvious that his patience is starting to wear thin, he just really wants to go back to the inn to sleep. Jimin’s amused smile returns to his face at the annoyance clear in the witcher’s voice. It irked him even more that the owner seemed to find amusement in his exhaustion.

 

Jimin hums thoughtfully as he leans back in his seat, “a fortnight ago certain customers of my… business started dying. Usually some of my employees would find time at the dawn, when they leave for their homes.” He pauses to watch Jeongguk’s expression, but the latter only gestures for Jimin to keep talking, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“I don’t know a lot about who the victims are. Most of them are beyond recognizing when found, limbs and head torn from their body and then set aflame.”

“How do you know this is not the work of a human?”

The owner frowns at that and Jeongguk leans forward, “nothing has led me to believe that these attacks are done by something that should be of my concern,” he grunts. Jimin’s mouth stretches itself into a thin line, “this was no human. There was barely anything left of the victims. It was if they were torn to pieces by a beast, their limbs ripped right off by pure force not by a human-made weapon,” there’s a flicker of horror in his eyes as he recounts all the bodies he had to witness.

“Heads nowhere to be found… but clearly ripped off as well. The streets drenched in blood and the stench of fire and death everywhere,” he continues absentmindedly. The witcher hears the man’s heartbeat picking up space, the slightest smell of sweat filling the room.

It might be unrecognizable to the ear of a common man, but Jeongguk was no common man and he could pick up the signs of fear from a mile away. He can’t sympathize with the small man, however. Jeongguk is incapable of feelings so he decides to uncomfortable clear his throat to bring Jimin out of his thoughts. His eyes immediately snap back to the purple haired mutant, pupils blown with terror.

 

“I’ll look into it,” he states simply, not sure of what else he could say to comfort the owner. Jimin’s eyes slowly soften after those words, not restoring to their previous mischievous glint but not nearly as frightened as before. A gentle smile plays on his lips as he gives an uncertain nod, “thank you,” he whispers barely loud enough for Jeongguk to hear.

A few moments pass by as the owner recollects himself. When Jimin opens his mouth again, his voice regained most of his previous sturdiness, “you are welcome to talk to my courtesans about the victims and whenever another casualty falls I’ll be sure to notify you.”

Jeongguk bobs his head and makes to stand up, assuming the conversation would end there. However Jimin’s sultry voice stops him as he moves towards the door, “you’re also welcome to visit my courtesans for other… pleasantries,” the knowing tone in his words bringing up memories of the beautiful courtesan Jeongguk saw earlier. Flashes of tanned skin and emerald lace filling his mind.

“My finest courtesan would be more than happy to help you relax after your long journey,” he adds mischievously. Jeongguk’s heartbeat seems to stutter for a little moment, but it goes by so quickly he dismisses it as a symptom of his weariness.

His voice sounds low when he answers, “I have no money for such delights neither do I have the time. I bid you goodnight, I’ll be here in the morning to start my investigation,” he proceeds to leave the room without waiting for a response from Jimin.

 

When Jeongguk lays himself down onto the straw bag in his room, he falls asleep to the thought of soft, sunkissed skin touching his pale, rough one and a low sensual voice whispering things into his ear that are too intimate for the world to know.

Notes:

In further chapters I'll be explaining what a witcher exactly is, what they do and how they are created.
If you have any questions or just want to scream at me, my twitter handle is @yoongispitsbars
Thank you for reading, and see you in the next chapter!

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

Jeongguk starts his investigation and stumbles upon the mystery man he had seen the night before.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was late afternoon when Jeongguk stumbles inside of the Passiflora. He had considered going earlier but since most of the courtesans would be gone home, it wouldn’t have had any use to venture to the finest brothel in Novigrad.

It looks a lot different when the sun was still out, the space where the courtesans normally entertain their cliënts and coax them into hiring them for the night are abandoned. The only other people beside himself in the room are Jimin and… Yoongi? They are standing at the counter of the bar, Yoongi whispering something into Jimin’s ear who answers him with a soft giggle.

He is a little surprised at how gorgeous Jimin is. During the events of yesterday he hadn’t had the sufficient time - nor the energy - to take a proper look at the petite man. But now, when there was sunlight streaming in through the windows, he could see the brothel owner clearly.

 

His height is almost equal to Yoongi’s, maybe he is a little smaller than the other black haired man. His beautiful, chubby face is framed by fluffy blonde hair that parts at the middle and as such exposes the smooth skin of his forehead. One of Yoongi’s hands reaches to card through Jimin’s locks, letting his hand fall down to caress his cheek next. The brothel owner has a soft look in his eyes as he watches Yoongi, leaning into the touch as a soft sigh leaves his pretty, plump lips. It all seems curious to Jeongguk, never having experienced the warm, fluffy feelings of love before… or any other emotion really. He knows what attraction is, however. But this seems to be more than just attraction, this seems like it is something deeper.

His gaze falls upon Yoongi next, he looks a lot more rested than yesterday. His eyes not as drowsy looking anymore but still the same pale skin as before. There is a glint of affection glimmering brightly in his brown orbs, his mouth slightly pulled up into a smile.

 

Feeling a little awkward for catching them in an intimate moment, he makes to turn around and leave the establishment. Planning on coming back later when the brothel has opened. However, as soon as he moves to open the door a gravelly voice stops him.

“Jeongguk, what are you doing here?”

The witcher straightens his back, let’s out a silent groan and turns around with a neutral face. Two pairs of brown eyes are looking at him tentatively, “how long have you been there, witcher?” Jimin’s luscious voice adds.

Jeongguk awkwardly clears his throat, “I- uh, I just got here,” he lies.

Now, it’s easy for a witcher to lie most of the time. Given the fact that they usually bare a neutral face expression. Jimin narrows his eyes for just a slight moment before releasing himself out of Yoongi’s embrace, the latter softly grunting in protest. The brothel owner strides towards Jeongguk, a little sway in the way he moves his hips. A little smirk on his lips as he undoubtedly feels the poet’s eyes burn into his lower back. Jeongguk acts like he doesn’t notice the way Yoongi stares at Jimin like a predator stares at his prey.

 

“What can I do for you, dear witcher? Did you reconsider the offer I made last night?” he asks teasingly.

The same knowing glint returns in his eyes.

Jeongguk remembers seeing the beautiful courtesan the night before, he remembers golden skin, emerald lace, stark blue eyes, … Yoongi’s husky voice pulls him back from his thoughts before the warm pit in his stomach can increase, “what offer?”

Jeongguk immediately picks up on the wary undertone in his statement. Like he’s expecting for Jimin to offer his own body to the witcher. Jimin’s reaction is swift, a roll of the eyes and a incredulous huff before he shoots a warning look the poet’s way. When he turns back to Jeongguk all the hostility has disappeared and he has a bright smile playing on his lips. He cocks an eyebrow at the mutant, waiting on an answer. His eyes quickly flash from Jimin’s to Yoongi’s and back, the tension still very clear in the air.

The witcher tries to ignore it as he softly shakes his head, “I came to ask who the last victim was with, on the night he died.”

Jimin hums as he frowns, deep in thought. Jeongguk takes a look at Yoongi as the petite man is thinking. The poet is standing against the counter, head dropped down sulkingly. The pale hand resting on the bar cramped into a fist, the knuckles whitening because of the force.

 

“Ah, yes. I believe he was with Taehyung that night. Do you want to talk to him?”

His eyes slide back to Jimin, who is watching him with the same smile he was before. He nods slightly, afraid that if he would utter another word the tension would break. Another hum slips through Jimin’s lips, “you’ll find him upstairs, the first door to your right.”

Without saying anything else, the blonde man turns on his heels and makes his way back to Yoongi reluctantly. The latter still standing at the bar looking like a beaten puppy, one that awaits another wave of rage coming over him. Hastily Jeongguk moves towards the oaken staircase, not wanting to be around when the tension decides to escalate. He’s halfway up the stairs when a loud shout startles him, “well, if it’s such a problem for you then it might be best you leave because I am not changing anything!”.

It stays silent for a few seconds and then the sound of a door being loudly smashed shut follows. The sound of soft sobs filling the deafening silent space. There is a small part of Jeongguk that contemplates turning back, checking in on whatever happened downstairs but he quickly decides against it and climbs further up the stairs.

 

The upstairs corridor is painted in the same warm, red colors as the ground floor. On the right side there is a door made out of dark brown wood, it’s slightly opened so a slice of light falls through it into the hallway. Jeongguk softly knocks, opening the door after a deep, soft voice tells him to come inside. The witcher has seen a lot of courtesans, whores and such in his life. Being continuously on the move, he sometimes found himself crawling into bed with someone to share warmth with and other pleasantries.

As a witcher he was taught to always expect the unexpected, but nothing could prepare him for what he saw behind that door. The room is spacious, painted in both bordeaux and golden shades. In the middle, against the wall opposite of the door, there is a huge canopy bed located with dark red sheets smoothed over the mattress. The headboard made up of intricate patterns that are carved out of gold foil. Inside the right wall was a fireplace, two golden candlesticks standing on it and the fur of a bear laying in front of it. Opposite of the fireplace stood a vanity table, all kinds of jars and vials scattered on it. But the thing that draws most of his attention was the man sitting on the bed, his tanned skin glowing in the daylight and his crystal blue eyes glittering. He is wearing a red dress that’s cut out until right above his navel, a dark red ribbon tied around his waist. The lower part of the dress is cut out until his right thigh, showing off his long, smooth legs. His ankles are graced with golden anklets decorated with little ruby stones, his arms adorned with golden bracelets.

Jeongguk rakes his eyes up the gorgeous body, to find two pair of stark blue eyes staring back at him. Soft ash grey, wavy hair lightly peeking over his lashes, framing his sharp features beautifully. A cute little nose with a mole near his right nostril, pink lips with another mole underneath the plump lower lip.

 

“What can I do for you?” the deep seductive voice says.

It makes Jeongguk’s mind focus on the person in front of him and not merely gorgeous body that has been plaguing his mind since yesterday. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registers the hazy beginnings of embarrassment. He shakes it off quickly.

“I’ve come to talk to you about the man that was found dead not too long ago.”

The courtesan simply hums as his gaze drifts off to something on the wall opposite of him. He sighs, “Jimin must’ve sent you then.”

Jeongguk simply nods. He always was a man of few words, always straight to the point. Only when the other man doesn’t respond does he realize that he probably hasn’t seen his acknowledgement.

“He did,” he says with a gravelly voice.

 

A moment of silence fills the beautifully decorated room. The man’s blue eyes sliding back towards the witcher, observing him. Jeongguk felt like he was staring right through him, he never had felt something like that with another person before. Except one of the noonwraiths he had to set free in Norian, a city near Vizima.

He was called upon by the city’s lord to rid him of a ghostlike bride wandering in their fields. With the promise of plenty coins, he set off to this quest, needing to investigate the area and the wraith herself. Jeongguk hadn’t expected to encounter a wraith with platinum white hair and shockingly white eyes, singing a sorrowful song as she roamed the fields. She sang about the loss of a love, and the words would’ve brought tears to the witcher’s eyes if he could experience sadness.

It was one of the first times that Jeongguk decided to not outright kill the being but to find a way to set it free instead. He lied to himself that he did it because killing it would’ve been a hassle.

During his investigation in town about the wraith, he found out that it was the spirit of a woman set to marry the love of her life. But the morning before their wedding, the man disappeared without a trace.

Soon enough rumors of him getting cold feet and abandoning the woman started to spread throughout the city. Not being able to deal with the betrayal of her beloved, the woman threw herself off the cliff near the fields. Her spirit got stuck, demanding to know whatever happened to the man, why he left her. It was the only way for Jeongguk to unbind her spirit to the mortal world so he traced him. Finding his rotting corpse in a ditch somewhat outside of the city, robbed of every coin he had. The wraith was torn by grief, but finally able to move on.

 

When the tanned man speaks again he has a small teasing grin painted on his face.

“What can I help you with…”

“Jeongguk,” the witcher answers the clearly questioning tone in the other’s voice.

“Jeongguk,” the courtesan repeats.

Something softly sparks inside the mutant’s stomach as the man with the unnatural blue eyes speaks his name. He can’t tell what it is, but it’s something he hasn’t experienced before.

 

The bed softly creaks as the man’s body lifts off the mattress. His red dress falling beautifully over his long tanned legs, his right one slightly sticking out of the split on the side.

“My name is Taehyung,” he slurs seductively.

He takes small steps towards the witcher - who seems to be nailed in to place, neutral expression plastered on his face - with a little sway in his step. It emphasizes how narrow his hips look in that dress, how it drapes so delicately over his tiny waist.

When he stands in front of the mutant he lets his stark blue eyes roam over his facial features. There is no ounce of hesitation, not even a spark of fear when he takes in the amber slitted eyes, the deep red scar on his cheekbone or even the strange color of his hair and skin. Slowly, he starts walking around the witcher. He lets his fingertips softly brush against Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending a gentle shiver through his spine.

“A witcher, I see,” Taehyung’s voice slurs beside his ear.

A warm breath hits his neck and Jeongguk bites his bottom lip in response, something warm stirring in his lower regions. The courtesan’s fingertips slide from his shoulder to the base of his neck, slithering down to caress the skin of his collarbones.

“I’ve never had a witcher before.”

 

Jeongguk’s breath hitches at this, the heat in his trousers spreading itself through his entire body. He feels his cock slightly stir at the sound of Taehyung’s sultry deep voice in his ear, the faintest of touches on his skin. Jeongguk isn’t a stranger to arousal, he has had plenty of fings. Men and women alike. But it is a first for him to get aroused at the mere sound of a voice or just a vague touch on his skin. If he was to be honest, he would take Taehyung right here and now if he wasn’t supposed to be investigating the murders.

 

As if he knows exactly what Jeongguk is thinking, Taehyung pulls aways with a light chuckle. He doesn’t turn to take a look at Jeongguk’s wavering expression, his face threatening to stretch into a scowl. His hands clenched into fists beside his body to keep him from pulling Taehyung back into his body and growling into his ear.

The courtesan moves towards his vanity table with the same sway of his hips. Jeongguk tells himself that his eyes drift towards Taehyung’s backside because he thought he saw an insect on his dress. He tells himself he keeps looking at it because he is making sure that there is nothing there.

 

“How about we play a game, witcher? You ask me a question and in return I can ask you one,” it sounds less like a query and more like a statement.

Taehyung sits down at the table, rummaging through the many vials and jars. He opens one before he takes a meaningful look at Jeongguk through the mirror.

“You can go first, witcher.”

If Taehyung notices the way the witcher clears his throat then he doesn’t comment on it. Confused by the sudden change in atmosphere Jeongguk dumbfoundedly scratches at his nape.

 

“What can you tell me about the victim?”

The rummaging on the vanity table comes to a halt as Taehyung’s shoulders sag. The atmosphere changing once again, sorrow surrounding the courtesan.

“Daejung, that was his name,” he sighs.

“He was a good man, unlike some of the whoresons that pass through here. He always made sure that I was fine after, that I had… fun.”

He fiddles with a jar in his hands, one that contained black coal, undoubtedly to line his eyes with. For a moment Jeongguk wonders if the seductiveness earlier was an act for Taehyung, something mask up his true self. Something that would hide away how he feels. A strange feeling of recognition floods into his heart. He abolishes the thought, he is a witcher and a witcher doesn’t feel.

 

“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”

Taehyung looks up at Jeongguk through the mirror.

“I can not. I make it a point to not get too close to my customers,” he shakes his head.

Not only did he seem to dismiss Jeongguk’s question but with that the grief that clouded his aura earlier. A teasing grin blooming on his face once again, “you cheat, witcher. You were only supposed to ask one question.”

Jeongguk’s lips quirk softly upwards at the comment. Even though it was spoken with a deep voice, it still sounded so juvenile. A youthful spark dancing in the courtesan’s eyes as he keeps his gaze on the witcher. The latter wonders if he just go a glimpse of what the real Taehyung looks like, behind the seductive facade to keep his customers from getting to know him.

 

Without waiting for Jeongguk to approve his idea of a game, Taehyung blurts out his question unabashedly.

“They say witcher don’t have emotions, does that mean they can’t feel arousal either?”

Unable to keep his neutral front up, the witcher sputters in surprise. He had expected the courtesan to ask him any question, going from how he became a witcher to how he got the scar on his face. Neither questions he was likely to answer. But for the slender man to boldly ask him questions about his sexual desires caught him off guard. Although, looking back he really should’ve known.

He does his best to quickly reclaim his indifferent posture. Not wanting the courtesan to know that he caught him by surprise.

“Yes,” he deadpans.

Taehyung hums with a broad grin on his face, “interesting.”

 

He turns the lid of the jar he was fiddling with earlier, dipping a fine brush in the black powder. He looks at Jeongguk once again as he bring the brush to his eyelid, “your turn, witcher.”

He paints a thin line on his upper eyelid with caution, trying not to make any mistake.

“Did Daejung behave any differently the night he died?”

The witcher keeps his eyes tentatively on the courtesan, following every move he makes. Entranced in how he paints the same thin line on his other upper eyelid. The black shade emphasizing the clear blue color of his wide eyes.

Taehyung lays the brush down on the table, “he didn’t.”

The answer was simple.

 

An tanned elongated finger taps against his plump bottom lip as he muses, “what should I ask next?”

His beautiful sapphire eyes studying Jeongguk through the mirror. His gaze falling onto the messy purple locks. It sparks the teasing glint even more.

“Your hair is such a lovely shade of violet. I wonder… is the color limited to the hair on your head?”

The implication is clear and even if Jeongguk were to miss it, the way Taehyung’s eyes wander down to his crotch area tells him enough. Another dazed blink at the uncensored question. His stare burns into the front of the witcher’s trousers, making him want to cover it up with his hands. The latter opens his mouth to answer but is immediately shut down by a dismissive sound coming from Taehyung’s lips.

“It matters not,” he grins, “I’ll find out for myself.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the room.

 

Jeongguk decides to pay it no mind, not wanting to give in to whatever game the other man was playing. The courtesan seemingly isn’t waiting on a response from the witcher either, as he grabs a golden brush and runs it through his hair. His ash grey bangs peeking into his eyes as he smooths them down.

“Do you know anyone that might’ve wanted to hurt him?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer immediately, choosing to open another jar and dab the contents onto his lips. It makes them rosy and shiny and Jeongguk wants to grab him by the waist to feel those plump lips on his own cracked ones.

“Like I said before, I don’t know anything about his personal life,” he mumbles and pinches his cheeks to give them a natural pinkish color

He stands up from the vanity table and turns to face the witcher. His hands fall to the ribbon around his waist, fingers swiftly loosening up the knot. Jeongguk follows the movement intently, the answer long forgotten.

 

Taehyung keeps the fabric in place around his waist, the cloth falling over one of his shoulders now that it’s loosened. The witcher’s gaze immediately flicks to the new-revealed patch of tanned skin, absorbing it completely.

“I’d love to get naked in front of you right now, I’m afraid I have to get changed,” his deep sultry voice echoes in the room. Jeongguk finds that it’s hard to drag his attention away from the naked shoulder, wanting to move the fabric even further down to reveal what else is hidden behind it. He catches the playful blue eyes with is own amber ones.

Jeongguk awkwardly clears his throat as he nods softly. He turns his back towards Taehyung, planning to leave without saying a goodbye but he stops in his tracks as the courtesan speaks.

“I had fun playing with you, witcher.”

Jeongguk walks out of the door.

 

As he descends down the stairs, he hears multiple footsteps padding on the floorboards of the ground level. When he turns the corner, he sees people dressed in regular clothes moving to set everything up for the evening. He recognizes some of them as courtesans. At the bar Jimin is still leaning against the counter, however his form is slumped and his face set into a hard scowl. His plump lips stretched into a thin line.

Jeongguk doesn’t want to disturb the petite man, especially not if he seems to be in a sour mood like this. But he did really needed to some answers to his remaining questions.

 

Cautiously he approaches the brooding man, he coughs awkwardly to try and catch his attention as he stands before him. Jimin looks up from the ground, his brown eyes filled with hurt. Jeongguk softly nimbles his bottom lip, he doesn’t want to come off as insensitive - although technically he is - and just right out ask Jimin about the murder. Instead he opts to at least try to be empathetic, “are you alright?”

He cringes inwardly, the words sounding incredibly insincere even to his own ears. But Jimin seems to appreciate the inquiry nonetheless and a sad small smile forms on his lips as he softly nods.

“I’m fine, witcher. Did you talk to Taehyung?”

Jeongguk hums, “I did…”

He can’t help the memories of a teasing grin, a tanned naked shoulder and piercing blue eyes flooding his head. A light chuckle snaps him out of it quickly enough, however. The witcher’s eyes focus onto Jimin’s face again, who has a knowing grin on his face.

“He is something alluring, is he not?”

Jeongguk blinks at that, “I’m not quite sure what you mean…”

The owner scoffs, “don’t take me for a fool, Jeongguk. I have seen that look on plenty of faces before.”

“What look?”

Jeongguk tries his best to keep his expression as unwavering as possible. Slightly frowning at what Jimin is trying to suggest.

“As if you’ve just seen a God,” the latter lightly remarks.

His teasing smile still growing on his face while Jeongguk’s frown only deepens.

 

“Anyway, I suppose you came here to ask me something and not for my pleasure to tease you,” he adds a little later.

The teasing expression on his face fading and making way for one of earnest.

The witcher hums, “I did.”

He leans against the counter opposite to the brothel owner, “I came to ask you where they found the last victim. Might find something of use there.”

“One of my courtesans found him at the alleyway behind the brothel,” he points to a door at the back of the room.

“It’s where we take out our trash.”

 

Jeongguk nods, “I’ll be taking a look there later on this night. I’m gonna head to the Inn first to get prepared, there is all kinds of vermin out there on the streets.”

Jimin’s gaze wavers, and a small glimmer of something Jeongguk could only identify as despair flashes in his eyes. But with a blink of an eye the emotion was already gone. The brothel owner nods, “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

He waves dismissively at Jeongguk as he sends him on his way.

 


 

 

When he arrives at the inn, he finds a not-so sober Yoongi sitting at one of the tables with his head resting on it. Jeongguk really rather just walk to his room and get his stuff ready for the night… but he feels obligated to at least check up on the man, considering no one else seemed to be in the room. He sits down on the chair opposite of the mop of black hair spreading out on the surface.

“You alright there?”

Yoongi struggles with lifting his head of the table, his eyes narrowed into little slits because of the light. He grins when he sees the witcher, “had a fun time with Taetae, witcher?”

His words slur together, spoken too fast and too clumsily but Jeongguk heard nonetheless. The perks of having witcher hearing. He sees Yoongi having trouble with keeping his head upright, wobbling on his neck.

“Better be careful with those whores. They are real vixen that’ll take your money and crush your heart,” he adds with a venomous smile.

 

It doesn’t take long for Jeongguk to catch up to what the poet was talking about. He contemplates whether he should sit down with the shitfaced man or if he should just leave him be and retreat to his room in peace. He doesn’t get a lot of time to make up his mind however since Yoongi already is opening his mouth again.

“Jiminie is champion at that, let me tell you. When I first met him, he was all flirts and batting eyelashes,” he snorts, “and then I gave my heart to him so he could smash it into pieces.”

The witcher just stands there motionless, blinking at the drunk man before him.

“And when I try to leave-” tears start to swell in his eyes and Jeongguk prays to whatever entity that the pale man won’t start crying in front of him. He’s already at a loss about what to say, if the man would start sobbing he would be completely lost.

“-he just pulls me back in with these sweet words. These beautiful promises that we’ll figure it out together.”

The man lays his head back down onto the table. His shoulders softly start to shake and the witcher swallows a groan.

“If only that damn Hajoon-”, Yoongi starts but falls quiet halfway through.

 

A few minutes pass by until Jeongguk realizes that the man probably wasn’t going to finish his sentence. He hears his breath evening out and a soft snor escape from his lips. The witcher lets his irritated groan out this time, of course he would fall asleep. He turns to look at the bar, hoping to find the other man’s uncle there but alas, there is no one to be found. He turns back to the small man and sighs agitated.

The mutant moves closer to where Yoongi is sitting, pulling the man right up in his chair before lifting him up from his seat. He tosses the poet’s body over his shoulder with little care, slightly surprised that the other didn’t startle awake, and carries him to his bedroom.

After shutting the door behind him, he lays down the sleeping poet onto the strawbag on the ground. He stands there, watching as the man grumbly crawls in on himself and continues snoring.

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. This is not what he signed up for.

Notes:

OKAY, SO I FIRST GOTTA SCREAM ABOUT THE COMEBACK TRAILER! THE WHOLE TRAILER JUST SCREAMED COURTESAN TAEHYUNG TO ME, ESPECIALLY THE SCENE WHERE HE LIKE PUTS HIS OWN FINGERS ON HIS MOUTH THAT JUST-
THE TEASING SMIRKS AND SUCH, IM SO-

Alright, I'm calm now... sort of.
Just a heads up that I won't be following regular updating schedules since my exams are about to start and my time is going to become limited.
I'll try to write in between studying and update whenever I can!
♥♥♥

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

Jeongguk starts his investigation.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

As agreed with Jimin earlier that day, Jeongguk returns to the brothel at night. The establishment blooms with life when the witcher steps through the door. The main room is filled with men standing around watching as both male and female courtesans sensually sway their hips on the light rhythm of the music. Featherlight touches on skin traded for meaningful smirks and an unspoken invitation.

Jeongguk’s eyes search the room for the familiar tanned skin, the long smooth legs and the clear blue eyes that see right through him. But alas, no sight of the gorgeous male. The mutant tells himself that the faint clench in his stomach is not disappointment but relief to not having to encounter the alluring courtesan. He has a job to do, there is no time for distractions and that’s exactly what Taehyung is. A distraction.

 

As his eyes continue to slide through the room, he notices the blonde mop of wavy hair standing at the counter. It’s like the owner hadn’t moved since Jeongguk left him there prior. The blonde has replaced his sad eyes for ones that are as hard as stone, no glint of emotion left in the chocolate colored orbs. He makes his way towards the smaller man who is overlooking the room and his employees. As soon as Jimin catches sight of him, a bitter smile adorns his lips. It’s as if the appearance of the witcher reminded him of the argument he had with Yoongi earlier.

“Jeongguk,” he greets politely and lightly nods as soon as the mutant stands before him. Not wanting to waste any time on small talk, Jimin vaguely points towards the door at the back of the room, much like he had done earlier.

“The alleyway is through there. I trust you’ll be able to let yourself out,” he says, voice void of emotion. Jeongguk debates for a moment whether he should ask the blonde male about his discussion with the poet, assuming that Jimin’s condition wouldn’t be that far from Yoongi’s. He gives the owner a quick once over. Jimin’s jaw is tense, his biceps bulging when he crosses his arms against his chest. Telltale signs the man is desperately trying to close himself off towards the mutant.

Jeongguk hums thoughtfully, deciding to let the subject slide. It’s none of his business anyway so why should he get involved? As if dealing with a drunk Yoongi earlier wasn’t enough of a burden, why would he put himself into a situation like that again? He mentally chides himself for even considering such a foolish thought.

“I’ll inform you when or if I find something that might be important,” he grunts, pushing past Jimin towards the back of the room.

 

As soon as he steps outside the door he’s met with a cold breeze and darkness. A faint streak of moonlight finds it way through the narrow space between the buildings. Jeongguk grabs a vial from the right side of his belt, the concoction inside it having a slight greenish color. He pops the cork off and swallows the entire content in one gulp. He rubs his free hand over his mouth to clear any left over of the potion and smashes the empty bottle against the side of the brothel.

The effect immediately kicks in, making his vision blurry at first but then his slitted pupils narrow and adjust until the entire world seems colorless but bright. He turns around slowly to observe his surroundings.

 

There was only one way out of the alley, through the narrow space between the brothel and another building that Jeongguk assumed was an abandoned house. He walks farther into the alley, nearing the dead end where he finds dried blood staining the ground.

He crouches down and swipes a pale finger over the smear but nothing sticks to his skin when he looks at it. A little sniff at his finger tells him that the murder must’ve happened a while ago, although he can’t really conclude anything without having observed the body. Or at least what’s left of it.

 

He turns to the two barrels standing by the door, undoubtedly filled with food remains and empty bottles. A little sigh escapes his lips as he drags himself toward them, going through trash never was his favourite part of the job. But alas it had to happen, just in case the perpetrator tried to get rid of the murder weapon or ditched something of significance in there. As he stands before the wooden barrels his nose starts to sting, the smell of rotten fish, cracked eggshells and expired bread swirling inside his nostrils. Great, what a moment to have heightened senses. Jeongguk groans as he digs his hands into the pile of trash, hoping that he’ll find something of worth.

 

After digging his hands into the barrels for a solid five minutes, he sourly concludes that he’s probably not going to find anything other than the moldy food remains mushing into a pile of soggy trash. Not having another option, he wipes his hands on his trousers. He grimaces as green streaks paint his pants. With a loud sigh he turns back to the dried blood on the ground. He expected to find at least something at the crime scene, or maybe that the creature responsible would have returned. Some creatures tend to do that, going back to the place where they last killed to see if they can find any possible other victims. Gnawing at his bottom lip, he resorts to the last option to find possible clues that are too subtle for the human eye to catch. He takes a deep breath and focuses his senses on the scene before him, the already enlightened environment takes on a clearer resolution.

 

It always takes a few moments and utter concentration for his witcher senses to kick in. Because of his mutated genes he already has heightened sense without trying but when he focuses even the most detailed and subtle signs become obvious to him. The first thing his detailed sight notices is the faint scratch marks near the bloodstain. He crouches near it and runs his fingers over the imprints, feeling a slight dent in the ground.

Claw marks, he concludes. He runs his finger over the length of the mark, approximately 20 centimeters long. He scratches the back of his neck as he sighs. Jimin was right, this wasn’t the work of a human… no human has nails like that.

He makes a mental note to search through his bestiary to find any creatures with claws like that.

 

Before he gets to shift his attention to other potential clues, the medallion around his neck starts buzzing against his skin. Jeongguk’s attention immediately focuses towards his surroundings, it’s never a good sign when his medallion starts quivering.

Each witcher was given one when they went through the Trial of Grasses to help them track magical beings or environments. Quivering as to warn the witcher that possible danger is nearby. With that in mind Jeongguk’s body freezes where it’s crouched, focused on listening to the soft sounds in the narrow space.

 

Soft scratching sounds and a low growl behind him is what sets his next moves off. In one swift motion he reaches behind his back to draw his silver sword and turns around onto his feet, pointing his blade in the direction of the sound.

Jeongguk doesn’t even wince when he comes face to face with a hideous wolf-like head, drool running down it’s muzzle and two sharp fangs sticking out underneath it’s upper lip. The lycanthrope pulls back his lip as a snarl escapes, his other teeth on display as to threaten the witcher into cowering away. With calculated steps Jeongguk slowly twirls around the creature, never blinking or taking his eyes off the monstrous shapeshifter.

Its bright, yellow eyes follow his every move, the muscles in its back and legs straining underneath the anticipation to lash out when Jeongguk decides to strike. The witcher knows he can’t drag this moment out for much longer, quickly scanning the beast’s body for any weak points and digging his mind about what he has learned about lycanthropes. He’s faced this species countless of times, often having to chase them out of cities or slay them when their human part melts completely with their wolf part which makes it impossible to turn back.

 

The following moments pass by quick. Jeongguk realises that to keep the beast from attacking him he’ll have to ensure it’ll be stunned into place. Lycanthropes are known to be fast and lethal. He puts up his free hand towards the wolf, planning to stun it into place with the Axii sign but before he can motion his fingers into the right position, the creature lashes out with at him. Jeongguk tries to jump out of reach but it’s claws already dug into the leather of his backup armour. He can’t help but internally groan at the realization that now this one will also be in need of repair, as he feels the monster slash right through it. A vague sting shoots through his abdominal area but there is no time to check the physical damage. Without hesitation Jeongguk makes a backwards flip to put some distance between himself and the creature, quickly lifts his hand toward the ground and motions his fingers into the Yrden sign. A soft purple glow starts to shine on the affected place, only visible to a witcher’s eye.

 

Another snarl is heard when the lycan charges for Jeongguk again, blind to the trap that has been set up for him. The moment he sets foot into the purple glow, a violet lightning bolt bursts through the ground and strikes the were’s body. It’s not strong enough to knock it out but it gives Jeongguk a few seconds while it looks around in confusing, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. The witcher grips his silver swords into hands now, flips over the were so he’s facing his back - the creature still growling at the sudden disappearance - and swings his sword towards the back of its legs. The sound of skin slashing open is heard, followed by a pained yelp from the lycan. It falls down onto his knees with its paws plastered onto the ground, Jeongguk can see the dark drops of blood dripping down the back of its left knee, right where his sword struck.

 

Not wanting to give it a chance to recover and attack him again, he lifts his sword to cut into its back. His sword stills in the air, however, when it whips its head back towards the witcher. Its eyes glowing yellow, which isn’t what cuts Jeongguk off guard but the intelligent glint inside them does. A harsh rumbling sound resonates from its chest and before he catches on, the beast gets on its feet and jumps up onto the roof of the building siding the brothel.

 

Jeongguk curses. He looks at the little puddle of blood that it left behind and then back up to the roof. It’s impossible for him to follow the creature up onto the roof, not being able to jump that high. He quickly slides his silver sword back in its sheath, fastened on his back. Groaning, he tries to slip between through the narrow gap leading to the main street. It’s a tight fit, but he’s able to slide through it when he presses his back flat against the wall.

 

Not wanting to waste anymore precious time and the possibility of losing the creature’s tracks, he switches back to his witcher senses. The world turning sharp once again, every detail screaming at him, every sound loudly echoes in his ears and all the smells clog his nose. It takes him a few seconds to fully concentrate on what he’s looking for.

His nose picks up on the strong metallic scent of blood. All the other smells slowly fade into the background.

 

He starts moving at a steady pace through the streets of High Town, his nose leading him to the wounded beast. There’s a faint thud sound filling his ears, undoubtedly the racing heartbeat of the wolf that so desperately tries to get away from him.

The well-maintained, decorated streets of High Town start to transition into the cracked, stinking streets of the slums. The thudding in his ears gets louder, meaning he’s getting closer to the lycan.

As he gets closer to the gates of Novigrad, the thudding in his ears gets replaced with the sound of cracking bones and shifting movements. He can’t help but slightly cringe at the sound, feeling like his own will start breaking at the mere sound. He comes to a halt when the noise stops and a new slower heartbeat takes over.

 

He’s standing a few feet away from the front gates, eyeing his surroundings suspiciously. Judging from the breaking bones he heard earlier the lycan would have shifted back into human form, which made Jeongguk’s job harder considering anyone could be a lycan.

With a swift glance towards the gates he can confirm that it can’t have fled the city, unless it would have climbed over the city walls which seems unlikely if it had shifted back. Besides, the thudding in his ears wouldn’t be as loud if the beast had left.

He sniffs the air, trying to pick up on the rusty smell. It’s stronger than before, and it leads him into the street facing the gates. The direct surroundings of the gates are usually left to soldiers and their barracks, Novigrad is no different. It throws the mutant off a little because why would a lycan willingly enter a place filled with soldiers? Lycans are strong but not strong enough to withstand a whole barrack filled with men trained in combat.

 

The smell leads him closer to the garrison, it makes the beating in his ears grow louder as well. He spots some blood drops on the cobblestone road, trailing towards a gate opposite of the city wall. No doubt the gate toward the barracks. He strains his ears, searching for other people wandering about the building and its court but he only hears the lycan moving around.

Carefully to not alarm the creature he softly opens the wooden door inside the gate, especially made to easily enter and leave the premise. When he steps onto the court there is no one to be seen except for a faint light coming out of one of the buildings. Jeongguk sneaks closer, lifting his arm behind his back to rest his hand on the pommel of his silver sword. Ready to strike in case the wolf charges out of the house, towards him. The door has been left ajar, he pushes himself back into the wall trying to peek through the slit. He can’t see the creature nor the human its shifted back into, but he sees a shadow dancing in the light. Soft mumblings and dull groans fill the space. Jeongguk’s medallion shakes slightly against his collarbones.

 

He unsheathes his sword, holding it steady in both his hands as he kicks down the door and jumps in front of the open space. As expected the lycan had shifted back into his human form, what the mutant didn’t expect though was the high pitched shriek leaving the tall, slender male before him. He jumps up from the bench he was sitting on, frantically searching around for a sword to defend himself. However, he quickly realizes those are probably stored away in the armoury so he lifts his hands carefully as to not provoke Jeongguk into striking him down.

 

“P-please, I meant no harm…,” the man stutters, eyes wide with fear as he takes in Jeongguk’s appearance. The latter narrows his slitted eyes and takes a moment to assess the other. He was a few inches taller than himself, slender built and his hair was a dark brown mess as if he just woke up. The clothes he is wearing were clearly thrown on in haste, his grey tunic hanging crooked on his body. When Jeongguk’s gaze lowers to the man’s legs he notices the sloppy bandage hanging loosely around his right knee. The back slowly coloring red with the blood seeping out of the wound.

 

Taking his silence as a bad sign, the man nervously shifts on his feet. He eyes the window at the back of the room as a possible attempt to escape. Jeongguk grabs him by the upper arm as he pokes the tip of his blade against the man’s throat, “It’s a little difficult to believe considering you attacked me,” he growls. The other’s brown eyes slightly widen at that.

“I-I didn’t mean to…, I-I saw you were a w-witcher and I j-just panicked.”

Jeongguk hums unconvinced, pressing the tip harder against the other.

The taller man leans his head back in a futile attempt to keep the blade from piercing through his skin. He slightly jerks in Jeongguk’s grasp.

“I-I thought so-someone send you a-after me, I swear.”

“People only contact me when they want to get rid of creatures that plunder and murder. Was it you that killed the man at the brothel?” Jeongguk cuts to the chase. The other shivers at the suggestion as he quickly shakes his head, “I didn’t! I can explain, just please… let go of me.”

 

The mutant takes a good look at the man before him, his senses tuning in for any signs of the other lying. He tries to read the expression on his face but there’s nothing else but fear splayed upon it, nor does his heartbeat spike any more than it already had in fear.

His grasp on the other’s arm loosens, and he slightly pushes him back down onto the bench. He doesn’t sheathe his sword however, wanting to be ready to strike just in case the taller man would gather enough courage to try and overpower him.

“Then explain. Why were you there?”

The other sighs in slight relief, his shoulders sagging a little at not having a blade pressed onto his throat. He looks up, “My name is Namjoon. I’m the captain of the guard in Novigrad.”

Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow at that. It isn’t unheard of that lycans live in cities or places filled with people, that’s how they usually try to disguise what they really are. But guard captain…

“We are looking into the recent attacks happening around the Passiflora. It has been a fortnight and we still have no lead or even suspects… so I decided to sniff around in wolf form. I was hoping to find some clues that are hidden to the human eye.”

Jeongguk hums, gesturing for the man to continue his story.

“I didn’t expect them to hire a witcher for this case, however,” Namjoon goes on, “so I assumed that you were hired by some peasants that saw a lycan lurking around the city. That’s why I attacked, I figured that if I could wound you I would be able to escape.”

“Which you did,” the mutant grunts. The captain gives him a sheepish look.

 

A tense silence falls over them. The taller man nervously fidgeting in his seat, the other intently gazing at him.

After a few minutes pass Namjoon breaks the silence, “What will you do now?” It’s a mere whisper, fear evident in his voice.

“I could just kill you now and be over with it,” the mutant muses, “or I can wait until someone contracts me to kill you. It’ll end the same, either way.”

The brown haired man gulps at those words, he knows all too well that sooner or later someone would pick up on his presence in this city if they hadn’t already. It could be peasant or one of his soldiers, he’d end up dead sooner or later.

Jeongguk doesn’t take his eyes off and he sees desperation washing over Namjoon’s face. He expects him to jump up and try to escape any time now with how the other was inspecting the window at the other side of the room earlier. However the man falls upon his knees in front of him, catching Jeongguk completely off guard.

 

“Please, I beg of you, don’t kill me,” a quiver in his voice.

The witcher watches him with wide eyes, at a loss for words at the lycan pleading for his life. He’s had different reactions in the past; people trying to flee, people trying to fight their way out but never this. Especially not a werewolf, the species that is so famed for being ruthless and cruel.

“T-There’s a sorcerer in N-Novigrad,” Namjoon hastily continues, “he’s hiding underneath the city, in the underground. P-please, if you help me find him th-then he can cure me.” He grasps the fabric of the witcher’s breeches, “P-please; help me. I-I just want a normal life. I beg you.”

“Even if I were to find this sorcerer, there’s no guarantee that he’ll be able to cure,” Jeongguk counters, calmly prying the captain’s fingers of his trousers. Namjoon intently watches as his hand drops to his side again. He quickly shakes his head, “No no no.”

Brown eyes shift to slitted yellow ones, “p-please, I w-want to try! T-there must b-be something that can be d-done!”

 

Jeongguk sighs as he carefully studies the other’s face. It’s true that at times werewolf curses can be lifted, however there is no surefire method to do so. Usually it’s a process of trial and error, trying different things while the lycan is in wolf form. A dangerous feat.

“I-I have the coin for it!”

Any doubt that Jeongguk felt is immediately washed away with those three words. He gestures for the other to stand up and sheaths his sword.

“It will cost you,” he grunts.

Namjoon’s brightens as he quickly stands up, his right leg slightly crooked under his weight, “Money is of no problem, witcher. I will reward you royally.”

“If you require more information on the whereabouts of the sorcerer you can find me here, when I’m not on patrol.”

With those words the atmosphere shifts once again into a tense one, Jeongguk takes a few steps forward and narrows the distance between him and the captain. Close enough so he can see every detail on the other’s face. He might be a few inches shorter but he can clearly see Namjoon gulp.

“I’ll find you regardless where you are. It would do you good to remember that in case you decide to make a run for it,” and with those words he turns on his heels and leaves the taller man to take a relieved breath.

 


 

 

 

When he steps through the doors of the brothel he immediately spots Jimin sitting in the pile of cushions against the wall. Next to him is a familiar mop of black hair nuzzling at the owner’s neck, Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow at the sight. I thought they were fighting.

He walks over to the couple, the two not directly noticing him.

Jimin’s soft giggles carry through the busy room, feeling giddy as Yoongi places soft kisses against his neck and nosing against his jaw. Their spat from earlier long forgotten. The owner leans towards the poet’s touch, eyes closed and a breathy moan escaping his lips when Yoongi nibbles at his earlobe.

“Hngg, Yoongi.”

Before the latter can even suggest taking this to a more private place, the sound of someone clearing their throat startles them out of their little bubble.

 

Jeongguk shifts awkwardly when two pairs of brown eyes look up at him. He doesn’t miss the way Yoongi’s cheeks softly dust pink at the witcher interrupting their intimate moment.

Jimin’s eyes widen as he sees the disheveled state the witcher is in, he’s leather cuirass torn revealing a nasty gash across his abdomen.

“Are you alright?” he almost shouts, realizing just in time that there are clients surrounding them and he doesn’t want to chase them away. Jeongguk merely nods, “I’m done with searching the alley.”

The owner stands up from his seat, shooting Yoongi a seductive smile with promise to continue their ‘talk’ later.

 

“Follow me,” he says as he guides Jeongguk to the same backroom where they discussed the contract the day before. He gestures for the witcher to take a seat on the oaken chair as he takes place on the one opposite of him.

“As to not to disturb the customers,” he explains as to why they came to a secluded room. Jeongguk hums in response. Jimin nervously licks his lips, “So… what is it that you found, witcher?”

The mutant crosses his arms as he leans back in his seat, frown etched on his face.

“Not much. But I ruled out the chance of a human doing this. There were claw marks on the floor.”

Jimin’s eyes widen at that.

“They were too large for an animal as well,” Jeongguk adds, his eyes glazed over as he thinks. In his mind he’s going over all the creatures that could possibly have such long claws.

The blonde man just stares at him while he rambles a list of possible perpetrators. “It could be an alghoul, although those are necrophagous so they don’t usually attack unless provoked…”

The other just blinks at that, trying to process all the horrific creatures that could possibly be lurking around in Novigrad. Jeongguk notices how he’s heartbeat slightly starts picking up, the faint smell of sweat drifting into his nose. He snaps his mouth shut, taking in the owner’s terrified expression.

“Nothing has been proven yet, but I’ll get to the bottom of this,” the witcher quickly rambles, trying to soothe Jimin. The latter just gulps and slowly nods.

 

Tense silence falls between them, Jimin’s fast heartbeat is the only thing that fills Jeongguk’s ears. He sighs, “Can you tell me what happened to the body? It’ll help narrowing down what’s behind this.”

Jimin nods, “I,” he clears his throat, “I think they brought it to the morgue.”

“Can you tell me where the morgue is? It might be helpful to have a look at the body.”

The owner slightly shakes his head to rid himself of horror induced thoughts, “It’s near the river side of the city. Close to the cemetery. I know Ho-, uhm, the coroner so I’ll tell him of your visit.”

“Alright,” Jeongguk stands up, the other man follows suit and stands a little shakily on his feet. The witcher turns around and makes his way to the door, but the owner’s shuddering breath makes him halt. He bites his lower lip before he turns back, facing the smaller man. Jimin’s eyes grow big in surprise as the mutant hesitantly narrows the distance between them and lays his hand on the other’s shoulder, slightly squeezing it.

“It’ll be alright, Jimin. I’ll catch whatever is doing this,” and with those words he turns around and leaves the room. Leaving a baffled Jimin behind.

 

Jeongguk tries to make his way through the brothel as fast as possible, wanting to go back to the inn and take a hot bath to soothe his muscles. Besides, he has a bad wound to take care off. He halts for a moment to look down at his stomach, dried blood covering his cut. I’m gonna have to find a way to stitch this thing up . He groans at the ruined armour.

He starts walking again when he suddenly freezes at the feeling of someone watching him intently. A mix of cinnamon and lavender drowns him in a sweet flowery smell and makes him feel hazy. He turns around only to find two sapphire blue eyes piercing through his yellow ones, a low heat in his stomach flares up.

 

Taehyung is sitting on the heap of pillows, dressed in a white robe that’s completely see through except for a satin ribbon tied around his waist, the bow carefully hiding his crotch from Jeongguk’s view. The latter wonders if he could see the other’s backside through the material if he turned around.

Taehyung’s leaning against a man with dark brown hair and elf like ears. The man is nipping at the courtesans jaw, one hand caressing the courtesan’s right thigh while the other keeps his head in place but Taehyung’s eyes are fixed on Jeongguk. A little gasp leaves his beautiful plump lips as the stranger carefully bites at his neck.

The witcher gulps as he stares at the intimate scene unfurling in front of him, finding it hard to look away. Taehyung smirks, as he leans over to the other’s ear without taking his eyes off the mutant.

“Touch me,” he whispers sultry, unnoticeable for anyone else but Jeongguk’s sensitive ears to pick up on. He gulps when he sees the man’s hand disappear in the slit of Taehyung’s sheer, white robe. The courtesan’s back arches lightly when fingers delicately stroke his upper thigh, too close to his arousal. He doesn’t get aroused often when clients play with him but the feeling of Jeongguk’s eyes on his body drowns him a suffocating heat.

“Jeongguk,” he breathes, low enough for only the witcher to hear. The latter stiffens at the mention of his name, slitted eyes darkening and fists clenching against his side. Satisfaction settles itself inside Taehyung’s chest as he lets his head fall back against the stranger’s shoulder. Fingers creep closer to his hardening cock, he lets out another moan but when he looks up to see the mutant’s reaction, Jeongguk’s already gone.

Notes:

Hello, I'm back from the dead! The past few months were quite draining for me to the point that I didn't really have any energy or inspiration to write for this fic.
But now my personal things have kinda subside, my exams are done and I feel a little better! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm not really good at writing but I just wanted to make this story because... I don't know, for myself I think.

I also would like to thank my friend Isy for beta-ing my fic! She's an absolute sweetheart and I love her so much, she's like a little sister to me.
Anyway, see y'all in the next chapter, byeee~

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It’s early.

The sun is barely peeking over the rundown buildings in the slums of Novigrad as Jeongguk arrives at the morgue, still groggy from a restless night. He had lain in bed, tossing and turning for what seemed like hours but he couldn’t get the sound of Taehyung’s breathy moans and how aroused he looked out of his head. Only after he had stroked his achingly hard cock into completion was he able to get a proper night’s rest. Never before had he felt such a whirling heat in his stomach before. Sure, he got off and had sex before but not like this, it used to be a pass time because the other was fairly attractive. Taehyung, however, awoke a whole new part in his being and Jeongguk isn’t sure if that bodes anything well.

 

He tries to toss any and all thoughts of the alluring courtesan aside when the worn limestone wall of a run down building catches his sight. The road among the building starts to lead up, stone bricks making way for a sludgy path to the cemetery.

As he gets closer to the building he notices an old desolate wheelbarrow stands close to the door, the wood drenched in dry blood. Jeongguk scrunches his nose at the rotting smell. The old thing definitely functions as a way to collect corpses among town.

The giant gargoyle knocker echoes through the abandoned street as Jeongguk beats it against the dark wooden door. He shifts on his feet as he waits for someone to open up.

 

The door flies open to reveal a lanky male in the doorway, a few inches smaller than Jeongguk and with a bright, radiant smile plastered on his face.

“You must be the witcher,” the shiny man beams. He sticks his hand out for Jeongguk to take, the latter doesn’t make any move to follow through, though. It doesn’t put the coroner off, however, the blinding smile still glued to his quite handsome face. He drops his hand to his side. “My name is Hoseok. Jimin told me you were coming to see the corpses.”

Jeongguk nods in acknowledgement and steps inside as Hoseok gestures him in.

“Jeongguk. I take it you know the owner well,” he grunts as the other leads him through the icy chambers of the morgue. He notices the slight bounce in the coroner’s step, for someone trapped inside dark dungeons all the time he sure is a bright person.

Hoseok hums. “I am a good friend of one of his regular patrons.”

The image of a pale, skinny man pops into Jeongguk’s mind almost immediately. He frowns. “The poet?”

Hoseok turns to him as he keeps walking.

“Yes, do you know him?”

“Yes. I just thought-”

“- that they were involved,” the coroner cuts him off, a knowing glance in his eyes as they stop at a door at the end of a dark and cold corridor. He turns to the witcher.

“There is nothing Yoongi would want more than being with Jimin. Things are just… complicated,” he sighs and pushes the door open.

Flashes of what happened a few nights ago run around in Jeongguk’s head, the drunk poet seemingly beaten up over his fight with the brothel owner. He only hums in response as he follows the other into the room.

 

The topic of the two star crossed lovers is instantly forgotten as they step into the mortuary. Six wooden tables are spread across the room, against the walls. The timber colored red from the dried blood that got absorbed. Most of them seem to be empty, except for the table in the center against the right wall. There’s not much left of the body lying on the wooden surface. As they approach it Jeongguk realizes that those are the remains of a human romp. Giant wounds gape where the limbs and head would be and an open cut runs through it’s stomach. Rotten flesh stings in his nose. He’ll never get used to the sickly sweet, pungent stench no matter how many time he’ll smell it.

 

“This is the body,” Hoseok says as he stands on the other side of the table, opposite from Jeongguk. The latter let’s his eyes run over the torso again.

“Did he have anything on him that can tell us about who he is? I know his name is Daejung, but that’s all I know.”

The coroner shakes his head.

“Unfortunately this is all that was left of him. Whoever did this has to be incredibly strong.” He puts on a pair of black, leather gloves, slips into an apron that Jeongguk has seen butcher’s wear in the city and ties it in a knot on his back. The witcher follows his movements when Hoseok shuffles to his side and gestures to the wound at the shoulder.

“As you can see there are still little pieces of the shoulder left, this clearly indicates that the arm was torn off with brute force and not cut off with a sword or knife.” He lifts up a little piece of skin hanging from the romp, a clear part of what used to be the shoulder. Hoseok gestures towards the lower part of the body. “The same goes for the legs.”

 

Jeongguk slides his eyes down and over the place where the legs are supposed to be, when his eyes fall on where there used to be a cock. He shifts uncomfortably in his place, never in his existence as a witcher has he ever seen someone’s dick getting ripped off.

“There’s severe damage around his pubic area as well,” Hoseok speaks up as he notices the way Jeongguk stares at the intimate region. He moves to the end of the table, taking what’s left of the ballsack in his hand and shows it to the other. His thumb slides over the claw marks on the skin.

“Unlike the limbs the penis didn’t get ripped off but rather clawed off. There a claw marks visible on the sack and it even slashed one completely open.” As if to enforce his words he shows the way the left testicle was hanging out of its sack. Jeongguk can’t help but cringe a little at the sight, almost dropping his hands to his own crotch like he’s scared that something might happen.

“There’s still some left of the shaft as well, but the head is completely gone.” The coroner drops what’s left back onto the table.

Jeongguk grunts in disgust.

“Why would anyone rip someone’s cock off?”

Hoseok looks at him as he wrecks his mind for a motive. There must be more to it than just murder, why would they bother to rob someone of their supposed manlihood if they just want them dead? Unless… it goes deeper than just murder.

“Do you think someone the murderer could be a sexual assault victim?” Jeongguk asks.

The coroner’s face contorts into a frown as his gaze flicks back to the mess of blood and leftover skin.

“It could be…,” he looks back up, “there must be something more behind it. I’ve worked with tons of murder victims and never have I seen one as vicious as this one.” The coroner moves to the other side of the table again, facing Jeongguk.

The latter hums, “Is there anything else you can tell me about the outer wounds?”

Hoseok looks down at the torso and he carefully studies the shoulder wound.

“It’s not that visible anymore since the body is a week old but when it came in the body was still warm and the blood still fresh. The wounds appeared to be swollen which-”

“-means that the victim wasn’t dead when his limbs got torn off,” the witcher finishes thoughtfully, “this starts to look a lot like a liquidation.”

Hoseok makes a agreeing sound, he reaches over to the wide cut in the torso’s and stretches it slightly out for Jeongguk to look inside the body’s guts.

“There was nothing of abnormality found inside his stomach, neither were there any organs missing,” he says and Jeongguk nods. The coroner pulls back. “That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid. The other two bodies have the same wounds; no trace of the murderer except for claw marks.”

 

Jeongguk sighs as he tiredly drags a hand through his hair.

“You’re not giving me a lot to go on,” he grunts.

Hoseok snorts, seemingly amused with the witcher’s disgruntled mood.

“What kind of creature could be responsible for this heinous crime?”

“I don’t have enough leads to narrow it down, it can be anything with claws,” the other man muses. “If it were necrophages they wouldn’t have left the organs or anything else of the body. They enjoy human flesh. Ogroids, relicts, elementals and draconids don’t tend to venture their way into the city…”

Hoseok hums “Seems like you still have a long way to go, witcher,” but the latter doesn’t react, too deep in thought to notice the little remark.

 

The claw marks immediately rule out any sort of ghosts, the same goes for the way the victim has been slayed. Insectoids don’t have any claws either and their marks would differ immensely from the ones left on the body.

His gaze drifts back to the severely damaged crotch area, it could be a succubus… considering the poor sod’s cock got ripped off and they feed on sexual energy. But they don’t have the strength to single handedly rip off someone’s arm, let alone all four limbs. The image of a black wolf staggering over him on his hind legs flash through his head. Namjoon. A lycan sure has the power to tear off a limb… but why would they shred their dick to pieces.

“Witcher!”

Jeongguk cracks out of his trance, focusing on two chocolate brown eyes that are frowning at him. Annoyance floods over him at being interrupted.

“What?!”

The coroner seems unimpressed, the bright man seemingly being unbothered by a potential dangerous being like a witcher.

“I asked if you needed to know something else.”

“No, that’s all I needed for now,” Jeongguk grunts.

Hoseok nods as he slips off his bloodstained black gloves and discards the apron. He signals for the witcher to follow him as he steps back into the cold, dark corridor. When they get to the wooden door, the coroner turns to him.

“I’ll let you know when I find something new.”

The mutant nods in acknowledgement.

“Thank you for your time,” he says and slips out of the door into the crisp morning air.

 

The abandoned dark street has made way for a clear sky and people bustling about their business. The wheelbarrow has disappeared, undoubtedly on it’s daily tour to collect the lifeless bodies of people whose time ran out. He briskly walks back to the inn, planning to spend the day flipping through his bestiary and trying to figure out what kind of creature is lurking in the shadows of Novigrad.The idea of having a peaceful day without having to run around relieves him. The past few days have been draining, mainly with thoughts about the beautiful courtesan running through his head and driving him crazy. His walk went by in a blur, drifted off in speculating over the investigation and fantasizing over how his pale hands would contrast against melanin skin.

 


 

After a few hours Jeongguk slams his bestiary shut with a exasperated sigh. As expected, his research didn’t narrow the amount of possible perpetrators down. He glances at the scroll he used to scribble down the possibilities and tosses the ideas around in his head. The most obvious suspect would be a werewolf. I know there is one sneaking around in Novigrad yet it seems too obvious… and he sure didn’t seem the type to murder someone in cold blood. Let alone rip their cocks off. An image of a scared, brown haired man on his knees dances through his head. Namjoon had looked genuinely freaked out and neither were there any signs that he was lying, no speeding heartbeat except for the fear and no body language that would definitely give it away. Then again, lycans are known to be ruthless killers when they’re turned so it isn’t inherently impossible.

 

His eyes slide down to the word succubus, a hybrid type of monster that feeds itself with the sexual energy of others. Driving them to multiple rounds of sex, tiring out their partner until they are completely spent. At first thought it made sense to Jeongguk that a succubus could be responsible, seeing how the body’s dick was shred to pieces… quite literally. However, succubi are not known to be violent. Unlike lycans, they don’t have any desire to kill or an insatiable need for blood so the chances are very low. He scans over the rest of the scroll, names like harpy, siren, ekimmara and bruxa scrawled down in an almost unreadable handwriting. His gaze lingers at the name ‘higher vampire’. As unlikely as it might be he decided to note the name down anyway. It has been ages since someone last saw a higher vampire since most of them deem themselves more evolved than humans. He gnaws on the inside of his cheek. If it were to be a higher vampire that could mean immense difficulty to track them down, especially if it were to be a true higher vampire that directly descend from the elder ones. It could literally be anyone I have talked to since true higher vampires can look exactly like a human being and only reveal their true form on their own terms. Jeongguk never encountered a higher vampire himself, but he has heard stories from other witchers that lived with him in Kaer Morhen - the place where he got educated and where he completed the Trials. His friends had described them as very intelligent and that, other than their lesser cousins like the ekimmara, they don’t drink blood or have any need to. The trickiest part of all is that the medallion doesn’t even pick up on them which will make it that more difficult to figure out if there’s one lingering about.

An irritated growl forms in his throat. This is getting him nowhere. There is no definite lead or clue as to who could have done it.

 

He abruptly jumps up from his seat at the creaky mahogany table, pushed against the left wall. Without hesitation he storms out of his room, planning to find the answer to his problems at the bottom of a huge pint of Kaedwenian Stout. His plans of getting piss drunk fall through when he hears a familiar, raspy voice fill the room.

The poet is stood leaning against the bar - mumbling against his uncle- in the otherwise empty inn. Jeongguk considers returning to his room for a moment and just try and sleep the rest of the day away but he really needs to calm his nerves. Begrudgingly he moves forward towards the innkeeper and his cousin until his ears catch something off interest slipping through Yoongi’s lips.

“- so I’m planning to dive down into the underground to see if I can find this mysterious sorcerer myself. What I would do with the coin-”

“You’d do the same you always do. Spend it on that pretty little vixen of yours,” his uncle cuts him off, the look on his face clearly unimpressed with Yoongi’s grand ideas.

The latter huffs but the next part of conversation passes Jeongguk by as he tunes out. Is there a possibility that the poet knows where this sorcerer is? He could ask the poet to show him the way, there would be no doubt he’d agree considering how excited he was for a witcher to enter the city. But then again is Jeongguk willing to put up with the unavoidable waterfall of questions Yoongi would direct at him during their journey through Novigrad’s sewers. He groans in defeat, the only other possibility was to ask Namjoon where the sorcerer could be but seeing as he hired Jeongguk to find him he probably didn’t know much more than that enchanter was hiding in the underground.

 

“- he is considerate, he makes me feel like I’m the only person for him and -” Yoongi’s litany of how Jimin is much more than just a pretty little vixen dies out when the purple haired witcher appears next to him.

“D’yaebl,” he exclaims in surprise, the name earning him a deep scowl from the mutant.

The innkeeper vaguely nods at the witcher in acknowledgement before disappearing in the backroom of the inn, leaving his cousin and Jeongguk to themselves. The latter sighs as he turns toward the poet.

“I overheard you talk about a sorcerer hiding away in the underground.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash knowingly and a small grin play on his lips.

“Let me guess, witcher. You want to know how to get there, is that correct? Are you hired to get rid of him or maybe turn him in?”

“No,” Jeongguk replies curtly, his frown only deepening, “but I do need to know where he hides out.”

Yoongi nods.

“Alright.”

It catches the witcher off guard. Surely he isn’t going to agree that easily.

“But you have to take me with you and I can write about whatever contract you are working on right now.” The sly grin on Yoongi’s lips only widens as his condition echoes through the room. Of course, Jeongguk thinks bitterly.

Every fibre in his being urges him on to deny and to just lurk through the sewers himself but he knows that it would just end up with him being lost. He looks at something to the side, trying to put up an unimpressed look.

“Okay.”

From the moment the word leaves his mouth Yoongi turns into an enthusiastic ball of inspiration bouncing around the witcher in euphoria, rambling about how famous this is going to make him.

 

After a few minutes of the poet twirling around Jeongguk is fed up.

“When can we leave?” he snaps.

That same big grin is still splattered on Yoongi’s face as he faces the witcher again.

“Right now.”

“Right now?” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow at that, not happy that him wasting his day away getting shit faced is not going to happen. Yoongi nods as he shuffles to the staircase that leads to the rooms on the second level.

“Go get your stuff. We’ll meet here.” With that he disappears to his chamber. Jeongguk grumbles when he slips back into his room to put on his busted leather cuirass.

 


 

The sun is high in the sky when they arrive at the entrance to the sewer, blessing the little grass halms underneath their feet with rays of bright light. However, the sunny day didn’t make up for the rotting stench filling Jeongguk’s nostrils as they descend down the little staircase at the side of the bridge leading to High Town. It’s no mystery where the smell is coming from. The origin is found rather quickly as Jeongguk’s eyes land on the greenish water rippling in the canal.

 

They halt at the iron gate leading into the sewer and Jeongguk turns to the smaller man, warning written on his face.

“Stay close. These sewers are undoubtedly filled with drowners, so if you value your life you won’t wander about.”

Yoongi nods. Their focus falls back onto the iron gate, Jeongguk eyes the keyhole as he fishes his lockpicks from his belt. Yoongi’s eyes widen curiously when Jeongguk drops to his knees in front of the gate and busies himself with opening up their passage.

“You know how to pick locks?” the poet blurts out in amazement.

The witcher frowns as his fingers move the lock picks to fall into place.

“Of course I know, I’m a witcher,” he grunts.

Yoongi hums at that.

“Not just a witcher. You’re the d’yaebl.”

A click sounds and Jeongguk lets his hands fall to his side when the gate opens. He grits his teeth at the mention of the name. Dismissing his irritation he simply jumps up and moves inside, Yoongi rushes to follow his abrupt movements.

 

The sewers look like everything Jeongguk had imagined them to look. Big stone arches leading into millions of different corridors haunted by drowners, waiting for a lone traveler for them to devour. On either side of the pathway there are stone platforms, a steady stream of stinking brown water running between them.

“Whatever you do, stay out of the water,” he grumbles, his back facing Yoongi but he can still feel the pale man nod fervently. They stand about for a while, Jeongguk waiting for the other to lead the way but when the poet doesn’t budge Jeongguk turns around to quirk an eyebrow at him. Yoongi looks completely lost for a minute but then a light seems to flick on in his head.

“Shit, yeah.” He scurries to the witcher’s side and gestures to the corridor in front of them.“Let’s go.”

 

The first part of their journey passes in silence. Yoongi leads them through countless of never-ending dark corridors and further into the maze of sewers running underneath Novigrad. Jeongguk is surprised the silence lasts as long as it did until the poet decides it’s time to break out the waterfall of questions running through his head.

“Tell me, D’yaebl, how is your investigation going?”

Jeongguk’s knuckles turn white with how  forcefully he’s squeezing his fist together and he stops in his tracks. He always tells himself to just let it slip, that speaking up against the name would make the fear it instills within others even worse but it irks him so much.

Yoongi walks a few steps further until he notices that Jeongguk isn’t beside him any longer. With a big frown plastered on his face he turns to look at the irritated witcher. Before he can even utter a single word Jeongguk’s yellow slitted eyes are drilling into his and make him swallow whatever it is he wanted to say.

“Quit. Calling. Me. That,” the witcher emphasizes each word with a low growl in his throat. Yoongi doesn’t look scared like Jeongguk thought he would, instead he stands there silently watching Jeongguk as he carefully weighs his words in his head. The mutant knows he won’t ask about the reason why he didn’t want to be called that, everyone knows so why would he? Everyone knows I’m a fuck up , he thinks bitterly.

 

“It means devil, right?”

That snaps Jeongguk right out of his self deprecating thoughts and Yoongi has to hold in his snort when the witcher looks at him with comical wide eyes. Not that Jeongguk’s reaction wasn’t to be expected, rarely anyone understood the tongue of the Aen Seidhe elves. Jeongguk restores himself rather quickly to his stoic self.

“Te dice Hen Llinge?”

The language rolls fluently off his tongue. Yoongi blinks at him for a moment.

“I just know certain words,” he answers after a few moments. “Used to drink with this elven fellow at the Passiflora. Bugger left to join the Scoia Ta’el, though.”

Jeongguk’s shoulders sag and he sighs.

“Just… stop calling me by that name,” he says, deflated.

Yoongi continues to look at him intently. He doesn’t miss the way Jeongguk’s face slightly contorts in a painful expression, as if whatever is running through his mind is hurting him. The poet’s eyes soften into something akin to sympathy, he heard about the famed story surrounding the witcher but he never thought it haunted the other until this day. He knows better than to ask about it, however, as he considers the mutant to be very closed off.

“What name do you prefer then?”

Relieved that the poet lets the whole debacle slide, Jeongguk starts walking again in the direction they were going. He faintly shrugs as Yoongi follows him

“Most people call me witcher.” He doesn’t want his mind to drift off to Taehyung but he can’t help but remember the way his name had rolled off those plump pink lips, resonating in that deep sultry voice.

“Witcher,” Yoongi repeats like he’s testing it out.

 

When they get to another crossway leading into different corridors, Jeongguk spots the sound of gnawing and gurgling before he sees it and his medaillon violently starts to shake. Jeongguk puts his arm out, signalling for Yoongi to stop walking as he looks to the left corridor.

Drowners,” he grunts.

“Where?” Yoongi whispers and he pales when Jeongguk gestures in the direction of the left corridor.

The witcher groans.

“That’s the way to the underground, isn’t it?”

A small grimace appears on Yoongi’s face as he nods.

“Stay here,” the witcher growls and he unsheathes his silver sword from its scabbard while slowly moving towards the sound. He plasters himself against the stone wall as he peeks across the corner. Two drowners are busying themselves with the leftovers of what appears to be a human that got lost in the jungle of sewers. They dragged the half eaten corpse into the stream of brown water flowing between the two stone platforms. It doesn’t matter how often Jeongguk has crossed paths with their kind, they never get any easier to look at.

Both of them have a sickly blue color painting their skin with slime oozing out of their pores and fins sticking out of their elbows and heads. From far off they look like a sick human but when you get closer you can see the scales covering their bodies and gills gaping at the side of their necks.

 

I need them to get out of the water, Jeongguk thinks because if he sets one foot in the stream, it would attract others and it would put him in disadvantage as they tend to drag their victims down under water to drown them. Luckily drowners aren’t the smartest beings out there and they get rather violent once they spot you, leaving no hesitation to attack.

He steps out of his hiding spot behind the corner.

“You rotten fish heads want something more fresh?”

Both of their sickly blue heads snap towards him and one of them growls something unintelligible before they swiftly climb up the stone platform. Before they can reach him, Jeongguk lifts his hand, his middle finger crooked while the others point straight forward. The effect of the sign Igni is immediate, fire streams out of his fingertips and sets the nearest drowner aflame. Its horrified shriek momentarily stunning Jeongguk into place as it overloads his sensitive ears.

 

The burning drowner runs around wildly, desperately trying to rid itself from the scorching heat blistering its slimy skin. It ends up throwing itself off the stone platform and into the water, its body leaving a hard thud when it hits the bottom. The other drowner screams in pain when it watches its lifeless pack member float to the surface. Without further hesitation, it flings itself at Jeongguk, who is still recovering from his temporary stupor. He manages to dodge the attack just in time and twirls to the side, leaving the creature dazed for a moment. His grip tightens around the hilt of his sword as he takes advantage of the drowners back facing him and swiftly strikes against the back of its knees. The blade slices through the skin as if it were made of butter and a steady stream of what seems to be red blood starts running down its legs. With a blood curdling screech, it falls to its knees, leaning onto its hands to try and get upright again. It doesn’t get enough time to do so because with another speedy swing of his arm, Jeongguk severes its head clean from its body. The lump of meat falls to the floor as the head rolls a few meters further.

 

Jeongguk runs his free hand through his purple hair. Drowners were always quite an easy task to get rid of, giving they didn’t move with their entire pack. Wait , he abruptly turns around to where the other body is still floating in the water, there’s only two… usually they travel in groups of three .

Kid!”

The loud shout immediately makes Jeongguk dash to the corridor where he left Yoongi behind and as expected the third drowner is circling the pale man. If the poet wasn’t in immediate danger, it would have been a comical sight to see the man fiercely trying to fend off the monster with some rotten wood that he probably found thrown aside. The drowner turns its head at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. But before its pale blue eyes - which lack pupils - can see whoever neared, a blaze of fire hits its skin and an atrocious shriek echoes through the corridor. Jeongguk drops his hand when the blackened body collapses into itself. He hears a shaky sigh to his left and sees Yoongi looking bewildered, the piece of wood falls out of his hand and drops to the floor.

“That was close,” he grunts, his voice steadier than Jeongguk expected it to be.

The latter just hums in acknowledgement and sheaths his sword. He looks back at the burned corpse on the ground.

“We should get moving. Drowners are usually part of a pack and the others are undoubtedly in search for them.”

Yoongi nods and takes the lead, turning the corner to the corridor where the other two dead drowners lay. He scrunches his nose when he steps over the headless body.

 

“You called me kid earlier,” Jeongguk mumbles after they walked in silence for a little while. Yoongi glances at him from the side.

“Yeah, I did.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know why but he can’t help the little grin that starts to pull at his lips.

“You know I’m probably older than you, right? We witchers tend to age slower than humans.” Yoongi cocks a brow at that, he never considered that Jeongguk could be older than him. The man surely doesn’t look it with those doe, yellow slitted eyes.

“How old are you?”

Jeongguk’s smirk only grows. “Old.”

Yoongi hums, not pressing the matter any further. They walk a few minutes in silence when the poet decides to add:

“Still look like a kid to me, though.”

That pulls a genuine chuckle out of the witcher and the sound is so foreign to the poet’s ears that he turns to the man to make sure he hasn’t been poisoned by the drowners from earlier.

When Yoongi turns his focus back on the road ahead he decides to try and start up a sincere conversation with Jeongguk, it strikes him that they never actually talked before even though they have encountered each other on different occasions.

 

“You never asked me how I know where the underground is,” he starts.

Jeongguk merely shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter how you know. I just need to get there,” he grunts.

“I heard about it from this fellow I met at the ‘Passiflora’,” Yoongi continues as if the other hasn’t spoken up.

The mention of the Passiflora brings Jeongguk’s mind back to the evening where he caught Yoongi and Jimin arguing with each other. He remembers how beaten down the poet had seemed when he found him drunk at the inn. The witcher clears his throat and tries to feign disinterest when he he decides to inquire about the relation between the two.

“So… what’s going on between you and Jimin?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking me about Taehyung instead?” Yoongi snorts and he doesn’t miss the way the tips of the mutant’s ears turn slightly pink. When the other doesn’t offer a response the poet decides to continue. “Things are… complicated. Between me and Jimin.”

“Who is Hajoon?” Jeongguk blurts, he’s never been a very tactful person when it comes to conversation neither did he have the patience to beat around the bush.

The name brings Yoongi to an abrupt stop, his eyes darken and his fists clench at his side. It almost brings a dangerous aura over the otherwise enthusiastic, kind man and it catches Jeongguk off guard to see him this way. Slitted yellow eyes look at him patiently when the poet sighs in defeat, his fists relax and his shoulders sag. He straightens his back and looks up to the mutant.

“He is Jimin’s past lover.” The words sound like poison drippi

ng out of his mouth and Jeongguk clearly picks up on the defensive edge in his tone. The witcher shifts in his spot.

“Is he still around?” He doesn’t know why he keeps pushing further, it’s really none of his business but he can’t shake the image of a downtrodden Yoongi out of his head. The latter softly shakes his head, a wry smile on his face.

“Not physically,” he softly answers. A distant look glaces over his eyes and Jeongguk decides not to urge any more.

 

“Werewolf or vampire,” the witcher says.

Yoongi snaps out of his daze as he frowns at the man.

“What are you talking about, kid?”

Jeongguk vaguely gestures.

“It’s either a werewolf or a vampire that’s been murdering the patrons of Passiflora.”

Those words reignite the enthusiastic glint in the poet’s eyes.

“How did you figure it out?”

They slowly start walking again, the pale man excitedly keeping up with the taller one. The moment long forgotten.

“Witchers keep a bestiary of all the known creatures we’ve encountered. A lycan or any kind of vampire would make the most sense since most beasts don’t linger around in crowded places like Novigrad,” Jeongguk muses. There are still too many unanswered questions, too many things that are still unknown.

Yoongi’s thrilled expression twitches a little.

“T-there are different kinds of vampires?”

“Around ten kinds, as far as we know,” Jeongguk confirms, “and that’s not counting the Unseen Elders.”

“The Unseen Elders?”

The witcher hums and softly nods.

“Tthey are the first kind of vampire that appeared in our human world. Other kinds behold them as god-like beings but no one ever stumbled upon one.”

The poet frowns.

“Could they just be a myth?”

Jeongguk shakes his head

“When the Unseen Elders brought their kind to the Continent, they divided into three tribes: Gharasham, Ammurun and Tdet and spread themselves all over our world. True Higher Vampires are direct descendants of the Unseen Elders, while the other kinds are lesser forms of what vampires once were.”

“You think a those… what did you call them? Hi-gher vampires? Do you think they killed those men?”

The poet’s eyes widen in fear at the thought of having offspring of god-like vampires roaming the streets of Novigrad.

“I don’t know. It’s not impossible I suppose, but - since they have no craving for blood - I’m not sure why they would.”

Jeongguk startles when he feels soft pats on his back and he turns his head in surprise. Yoongi grants him a supportive smile.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kid. I trust you will.”

 

It takes them a little while more before they arrive at an arc carved out of a stone wall. The opening of the arc has been glazed over by a blue glow. Jeongguk immediately recognize it to be a magical border when the medaillon against his collarbones starts to buzz.

“This,” he softly runs his fingers over the side of the arc, “is Elven.”

“It used to be an Elven hide out when humans started to inhabit their cities,” Yoongi nods, “but now it functions for those of magical origin.”

Jeongguk’s hand wavers over the blue barrier, making sure he doesn’t touch it because it could have him flying to the other side of the corridor.

“That explains the barrier.”

Yoongi side eyes the witcher. “Magic?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk hums, “but easy enough to get through.”

With that said, he ushers the poet backwards to make sure the man wouldn’t get hit. He lifts his hand toward the arc, crooking his middle finger with the rest pointing forward and makes a slight push motion toward the barrier. A blue wave staggers out of his hand toward the doorway. The wall shakes when Aard hits the barrier. The barricade fades away and another dark corridor lies behind the passageway.

“Didn’t know witcher’s had magical abilities,” Yoongi mumbles in amazement as he walks up to stand next to Jeongguk. It pulls a grin out of the mutant.

“We are created out of magic. It would only be logical that’d we inherit some of the abilities.”

Yoongi has heard of the practices witchers use to create their kin, all of them sounding horrifyingly cruel and tortuous.

“You keep on surprising, kid,” he murmurs, choosing to not chase his curiosity and ask about the mutations Witchers go through. He assumes that Jeongguk would just evade the questions anyway, giving how closed off the man has been and continues to be. Jeongguk snorts.

 

He carefully ventures through the arc but instead of stepping inside the dark corridor they saw, his stomach makes an upturn and nausea overcomes him as he steps into a torch lit hall brimming with life. The poet stumbles into him as he steps through the arc as well, immediately grasping for his stomach and making gagging noises.

“Fucking portals,” Jeongguk curses as he leans against the wall nearest to them and watches as Yoongi spits on the ground, trying to rid himself of awful feeling in his abdomen.

The witcher tries to focus on his surroundings, trying to figure out where the portal has taken them. His eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the crowd. All kinds are bustling about: elves, halflings, dwarfs, humans. All of them having a magical aura swimming around them and it’s making Jeongguk’s medaillon softly buzz against his skin. A groan behind him brings his attention back to the poet,  who’s,still holding his stomach and leaning next to the portal.

“Can we never do that again?” Yoongi whines.

The witcher pushes himself from the wall, walks up to the poet and carefully lays his hand down on the poet’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

Yoongi grimaces at the witcher as he nods unconvincingly. He takes a few more seconds before he pushes himself upright and starts walking, signalling for Jeongguk to follow. They quickly mix themselves in the crowd of magical beings and the mutant curiously observes the ones that pass them by.

“These are refugees from Radovid’s witch hunt,” the poet supplies to Jeongguk’s unspoken question. “They were all chased out of their homes by Radovid’s soldiers.”

When the words reach Jeongguk’s ears he starts to notice how worn down these creatures look, wearing scraps and dragging a small bag of cloth on their shoulder. Others were sitting against the walls, comforting each other over what they have lost.

“They gather here. People that stand against Radovid’s persecution help them escape the city through the sewers. It’s no surprise that most of them don’t make it… with how the sewers are flooded with drowners,” Yoongi sighs, the last words sounding downtrodden. When Jeongguk looks at the poet, he can see regret written all over the man’s face. The mutant wonders whether the emotional reaction is something that’s common for humans or whether Yoongi has some personal involvement in this movement. The witcher decides to just hum in acknowledgement. It would do him no good to venture further into how this movement came to be and what they do, it’ll only distract him more from the reason why they are here. To find the sorcerer Namjoon talked about.

 

Yoongi stops him by slightly nudging his side when they approach a large oaken door at the end of the hall. Jeongguk can clearly hear rumbling on the other side of the door and soft murmurs of a melodic voice.

“He should be in here,” Yoongi murmurs and looks nervously at the witcher.

Jeongguk gives him a soft reassuring smile and reaches for the doorknob but the thing flies open with a loud thud before he can reach it.

A broad man stands in the doorway, pink hair adorning his head and framing his gorgeous face. Two brown eyes that Jeongguk knows all too well widen in surprise as the other takes in the person standing before him.

“Seokjin?”

Notes:

Hey there!
So this chapter came out longer than I originally planned it to be and this isn't even the entire chapter I originally had outlined either. But because I really wanted to update and because I think it was a good way to end the chapter, I cut it off.

I tried to get some relationship development between Yoongi and Jeongguk in this chapter, I hope it comes off that way hahaha. I didn't want to let either of them give all of their private information out just yet since Jeongguk's character is a very closed off person that doesn't like to get involved in all things surrounding emotions, etc... But there's a lot to know about our little Kookie.

There's a little more information I wanted to give about the Unseen Elders. In the original game they are deemed old Higher Vampires while in this fic they are perceived as God-like beings by their lesser kind. It's not really explained in the game how the other kinds were created beside the fact that Vampires crossed over to the human world during the Conjunction of Spheres which will be adressed in a later chapter. So I just kinda fantasized the whole 'Higher Vampires are direct descendants off the Unseen Elders' thing, hngg.

I was really excited to get this chapter out because it's one of my favourite until now and I really enjoyed writing about the different species and the blooming friendship between yoonkook! Also I got my exam results yesterday and I passed all my courses which means I'm done with theoretics and only have to do my internship and then graduate! So I kinda wanted to get this chapter out as a little celebration! I'm so happy! Downside is that I have to get one of my wisdoom teeth pulled on monday and narcotics and all that shizz freak me the fuck out, oof.

I hoped you enjoyed reading! Thank you for reading and thank you for the kudos, I didn't think so many people liked reading my fic :(( But I'm really grateful and I hope you guys stick around for more! Special thanks to my sweetie Isy for beta-ing and always giving me great feedback on my chapters! I love you baby ♥

Byeeeeeee~

Chapter 5: Update

Chapter Text

Hey y'all!
Sorry, I'm not here with a new chapter but a small update.
It's gonna take a bit longer for me to update a chapter. My internship kicked off two weeks and it's very intense.
I start very early (6:30 am) and end pretty late (6:30 pm) in between I have to make assignments for school and write my bachelor project (kind of like a thesis to be able to graduate) so I don't have a lot of time to write :((
I promise I'll try my best to post something new soon-ish!
Hope you understand!

Thank you ♥