thebitsandblurbs

[thebitsandblurbs]

Soul Mark [Part 3] - Harry Potter AU

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Severus Snape x Fem!Reader Warning: Graphic Description of Injury Author's Note: Just gonna casually throw this here *sneaks away* ------------- Part 1 Part 2 -------------

“Good grief- the timing of this…,” You settled into your chair, wincing as you did so, “Could one of you give me a hand with this?"

Severus had briefed you both about their suspicions of being Soul Marks prior to the arrival of your office.

At first, you vehemently denied the existence of such magic. After all, it was merely a tale spoken of in childhood stories. However, all stories - regardless of how asinine they may seem - always held some modicum of truth.

Soul Marks were incredibly rare in the Wizarding World. Throughout history, only 15 individuals were linked via this phenomenon. It was noted that this relationship would usually consist of 2 people. However, there are reports that 3 people could be connected. Albeit exceedingly rare, but not impossible.

Severus stepped up, moving to your side as you removed your shirt. A flick of your wand caused the bandage to unravel. After the last of the potion soaked bandage was removed, raw muscle and bone was revealed. Strings of red barely connected your arm and shoulder. With the amount of muscle and magic at play, your injured arm was certainly out of commission.

“Merlin,” Lucius breathed as you and Severus worked to apply the different salves and poultices, “are you sure there isn’t anything Severus can do?”

He lingered over you, eyes drawn to the wound. His mind brought him to the mark on his own shoulder. He felt the dull ache, detesting the times when it grew increasingly sharp.

“Quite sure,” you breathed, releasing your breath as clean bandages finished wrapping, “I do apologize, could we continue this conversation another time? I’m afraid with Sirius Black’s escape, there’s more work for me to do.”

Lucius nodded, hand twisting against the snake head. “Come by my Manor- 7 o’clock tomorrow evening.”

“As you wish. Gentlemen,” you touch the aged skull at and end of your desk, whisking you away to Azkaban. Pocketing the trinket, you passed the dementors lurking about, ignoring their chilled whispers and garbled wheezing.

Azkaban was a frightful place, and you wanted to get this done as soon as possible. Locking eyes with one of the Aurors, you were brought to Black's cell. You were half expecting to see the cell to be blown apart, but there was nothing of the sort. It was almost as if he slipped out...

After several more hours of examining his cell and the lackluster magical traces, you grasped one of the light strands. You knew that whatever magic that was left behind was minuscule, but the worse that could happen is- well- nothing.

When the duo saw you again, it was at the entrance of Malfoy Manor. Your face held an unnatural pallor to it, your eyes held dark circles under them. You still had the same clothes as yesterday, having no time to change from you last visit. Frankly, it felt as if cinderblocks were chained to your body.

Severus was keen on learning more about your background. He and Lucius had done some research prior to your arrival. Lucius was more worried about your opinions towards their previous occupations. All night, he was pacing back and forth though Severus couldn't tell if it was because of his anxiety or if this was the result of the connection between the two of you. When he saw your wound during the Award Ceremony, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. Every flinch, every twitch - Lucius mirrored it. That flick on the ear only proved his thoughts.

“Lucius, perhaps these discussions would be better suited when all parties have had sufficient rest,” Severus suggested, seeing your weary state.

You hummed in disagreement, “If you have any tea brewed, then I'm more than prepared to discuss our current circumstance."

Settling in the library, all three of you sat in awkward silence. Severus continued sipping his tea, observing your mannerisms: back ram rod straight, your right thumb rubbing against the side of your curled forefinger. Every now and again, your leg would bounce. As it happens, silence does not sit well with you.

"So,” Lucius piped up, “what do you know about us, Ms.L/N?”

“Not as much as you think. Should I know more beyond you being a Curator,” you look pointedly at Lucius before moving your sharp gaze to Severus, “or you being a Potions Master? Or perhaps that both of you were saddled with You-Know-Who before turning tail."

“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that…" The aristocrat began, somewhat taken aback by the blasé tone. He glanced at Severus for support, only to be met with a cheeky smirk. "It was a complicated time then." A chortle broke through. After your initial meeting at the Ministry, Remus spoke with you the next day. He had seen you talking with Lucius, something that unsettled him greatly. Frankly, by the weight of the parchment, you had feared that your poor owl would have dropped prior to his arrival.

Watching Lucius squirm to explain his actions was amusing, but you had places to be, "Lucius, Severus- I am well aware of your pasts. While I am not overtly fond of it, I'm sure why you did it will be told to me soon enough. Now I have the pleasure of asking what you know of me?" Lucius hummed, "You were born in Saudi Arabia, moved to England when you were 5, before moving to the United States at the age of 15. You went to school in Ilvermony and subsequently graduated at the top of your class. Your parents were experts in the Arcane, so it stands to reason their daughter would be one as well. Although at this point, one could say you have surpassed them in achievements, as they were researchers at your age." "You can see it, can't you?" Severus questioned. He leaned forward, "Your position in this field is by no means an accident; you have something that allows you to have an advantage. Magic, when cast, is visible to all, but you can see something beyond that." You twitched, stoicism suppressing any emotion that was previously on your face.

[thebitsandblurbs]

The Performance

Pairing: Krennic x Singer!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: So I'm on a Ben Mendelsohn kick 🫣

Krennic was less than please to be on Audo-9 but Tarkin- the old bastard - made him attend. Something to do with political and societal imaging- neither of which he cared for when it came to the mind of people. There were better places to be.

Sipping his champagne, he slithered from group to group. Polite smiles and firm handshakes were passed but none were truly genuine. Practiced sentiments performed in a lackadaisical effort to gain influence. That he was all too familiar with.

Once all was said and done, Krennic took his seat at the front row. He smoothed his trousers, cleared his throat, and looked around to see who would be sitting near him. Several members of High Command were here, but no one he truly cared to interact with. Surely this was some sort of prank, maybe even a trap. The latter being more appealing than the first.

You were pacing back and forth back stage, habitually biting your cheek. Your friend, Lyol, had convinced you to fill in for her during the performance. While you appreciated the opportunity, this style of music wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

Though it was far too late to back out now. Upon hearing the crowd and seeing the lights dim dramatically, you knew it was time. Stepping onto the hover platform, you stood steady as it rose higher and higher, “Good evening Audo-9, is everyone ready to have an excellent show tonight?!"

To say that Krennic was enthralled was an understatement; he could never take his eyes off of you. Your voice, your appearance, your movement- the elegance you imbued was ethereal. Even before the end of the performance, he made up his mind to see you before tonight's end.

Your voice radiates throughout the venue, pleasing to all those who would hear it. The enormous screen behind you displayed your figure as the hover platform glided before the audience. Every now and again, you'll reach out to the people, staying close enough for them to reach out but far enough so you wouldn't be grabbed unexpectedly.

Nearing the top central platform, you lean in further than normal. The camera followed closely. The audience stayed at the edge of their own seats, swallowing every moment of your performance.

You focused on the older man in front of you. Prior to the performance, Lyol had warned you that the Empire would be in attendance. Her stance in politics deterred her for performing for them, a stand in beliefs. For you, you knew it was just a charade for the group- a measley show of how they could relate to the common people.

Stepping off the platform, hips swaying to and fro, you settled into the lap of an older man. His dark hair peaking through as wisps through a sea of gray. Crystal eyes cold and intent, but softened as you wrapped an arm around his neck.

Something told you to get closer, to touch him.

Krennic leaned forward, almost putting his face in your hand. Not once did his eyes break contact with yours. He allowed his fingers to brush the lace of your gloved hand before moving to the side of your face.

The world faded for a moment, and it was just you. He relished in the warmth, craving you to touch him further. His free hand was clenched tightly as you squirmed in his lap. A moment he would shamelessly remember later in his chambers.

In his trance, he barely noticed that your fingers latched upon his own leather glove until you pulled it off of his hand. A swift kiss was planted on his cheek before you fled for the hover platform.

His mouth was agape as you flew away from him, a cheeky look shining bright in your eyes. He recovered quickly, covering his naked skin. From the corner of his vision, several of his colleagues couldn't help but snicker at his attempts to righten himself. Though a quick glare caused them to look the other way.

Summoning a guard nearby, he ordered him to find the owner of the establishment before turning back to enjoy the rest of the show.

[thebitsandblurbs]

Soul Mark [Part 2] - Harry Potter AU

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader; Severus Snape x Lucius Malfoy

Warning: Graphic Injury

Author’s Note: Part 2! It's still stuck in my head. Part 1

You nursed your shoulder, eyes focused on the medic bed before you. Your enchanted armor laid on the dirt floor, discarded in favor of comfort. Your shirt was beyond repair, caked in grime and blood. Not to mention, the seams that met shoulder to aim were torn beyond repair. Single threads barely kept it attached.

The Retrieval had gone as smooth as it could be until the very end. While sentient sentinels were hardly an unknown entity, ones that were able to deflect and return or use magic were.

They were large marble statues, ones modeled after the fearsome Minotaur. They dropped from their high pedestals, causing the ground to shake violently. The Retrieval Team stationed near the altar began to flee, some vaporized in an instant the edge of their blades touched their person.

You and another Unspeakable- Talisman- conjured a shield, watching in horror as cracks began to form.

Some of the members of your team were barely a year out of school, their theoretical skills were no match for practical events. You quickly sent them on their way, wand raised to defend their escape. While you wore a face of bravery, you were - in fact - quite terrified.

"What do we do?" Talisman questioned.

“I have an idea,” you pointed your wand at the moving statue, “Animotare!”

A string of light emerged from the tip of your ward, splitting into 5 threads. Guiding the string to your palm, you then assumed control of the sentinel. It fought against you, but a sharp tug quelled its resistance. Twitching your fingers, you maneuvered it to face its companions.

“Excellent technique, L/N- not bad for a Brit!”

"Ha, thanks- Watch it!"

One sentinel was lucky enough to absorb a spell, utilizing its energy to fuel its own attack against you. You were stupid enough to put your back to the enemy, an effort to protect Talisman from harm, allowing a crude axe embroiled with magic to embed itself in your shoulder. Luckily, your armor was there to deflect and even absorb part of the attack, but the damage was done.

He hoisted you to your feet, nearly dragging you out as the chamber you were in began to fall apart. As soon as the two of you cross the threshold to the other room, the chamber disappeared, leaving nothing but a void.

Lucius was thousands of miles away when searing pain over took his body.

He had been feeling antsy for quite some time, pacing to and fro the parlor. His mind kept drifting to you, though he wasn't sure why. Where were you? What were you doing?

The glass of wine he was nursing tumbled to the ground, shattering into tiny fragments. Severus was there to catch him when he fell, “Lucius, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” the other man breathed, just as confused as his companion. Shaking hands scrambled to remove the dark ascot around his neck, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his silk shirt. He pulled it down, looking at the source of the pain. Though there was nothing to see save for a crimson red marking forming in the shape of a gnarly gash but never once did the skin break. His mind wracked with every possible curse that could explain this sudden attack.

Your recovery was slow. Much to your disappointment, magic could do nothing to significantly heal or ease the pain of your nearly dismembered arm. The nurses at St. Mungo’s had advised you to wear a sling for your many months of recovery ahead. The bandages they provided was saturated with healing potions, mending your arm day in and day out.

For your pain and bravery, the Ministry opted to celebrate your troubles and triumphs with an Order of Merlin.

It was a nice ceremony but incredibly taxing. A good portion of the day was spent sitting in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair. Though by mid-afternoon, you were exhausted and ready to turn in. Unfortunately, along with hosting the ceremony, Dumbledore also saw this as a good opportunity to meet your future Hogwarts colleagues.

When Severus arrived, he believed his attendance to be unnecessary. He thought of you as the same league of the bumbling fool Gilderoy Lockhart. That is until he saw your bandages.

"Severus Snape, Potions Master.”

“Y/N L/N, Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

"Quite the injury- Madam Pomfrey is a skilled healer. However, if you ever feel the need for a poultice stronger than those you would find in the Medical Bay, do stop by."

“I appreciate the offer, Professor, but I'll make do.”

"Admirable," he paused, "Lucius mentioned you were in the field not too long ago. Tell me, what creature would be fearsome enough to cause your wound."

“Not a creature - some sort of sentinel erected to guard the artifact left behind. Whomever created it was a skilled craftsman. They were able to imbue their creation with a magical core that's able to allow the bearer to wield magic."

Severus listened to you ramble about the different types of magical anomalies you’ve encountered within the last few years. Rather than tuning you out, he listened. Asking questions whenever you paused in conversation. Some areas you faltered on explaining but you made a mental and vocal note to research the topics further.

After the conversation died down, the two of you stood there for a moment, basking in awkward silence. Another second passed before you excused yourself.

"Stop making her squirm,” Lucius reprimanded the younger man, "you seem infatuated with her. Normally, you leave after introducing yourself.”

Severus nodded in agreement, watching you return to your chair. Perhaps, there was something to you after all. Most women would have tried to sucker up to Lucius’s associated acquaintances by now before moving on to ask about Lucius’s whereabouts or gushing about his personality.

Upon the party turning to a more private setting did you see it fit to relax. Undoing the bow to your cloak and the top button to your shirt, the tightness to your throat alleviated but only slight. Though what you didn't see what Lucius also relaxing his shoulders.

"Drink, Professor L/N,” Remus Lupin offered, handing her a goblet, “how long did they say it would take for you to recover?”

"Several months at least. The matrons at Saint Mungo’s are skilled, but this magic is far too concentrated to be mended quickly.” You sip the drink. "I hope your lesson plans don't involve dueling any time soon.”

Remus chuckled, "Towards the middle of the semester, but your aunt would be miffed if I were to put you through any more… physical stress. She's requesting you wait until I return from my trips to do anything strenuous, a favor I owe from our school days.”

You snorted- your aunt, who was nearly 5 years older then yourself, often treats you as if you were 20 years younger.

"Excuse me everyone, if I may have your attention please," Dumbledore's voice boomed across the hall. "it has come to our attention that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban. Due to established dangers and possible intentions Mr. Black has, Hogwarts professors are to have an emergency meeting at the Great Hall at noon tomorrow.”

The room erupted with a sea of whispers. Though you couldn’t help but groan in disdain, “Apologies Remus, duty calls- send my aunt my warm and distant regards.”

You rush to catch up with Fudge and Dumbledore as they practically fled the room. Fudge, upon seeing you at the corner of his eye, slowed his pace. "Ah, Y/N, I need you to send a team to Azkaban, conduct a full investigation…”

To keep up with a list of demands, you had summon a Quick Quill to pen everything down.

"We need to find out how Black escaped from Azkaban."

“Understood,” you snatched the piece of parchment from the air, breaking away from the group. Heading towards the elevator, you stepped in. Pressing the button to reach Arcane Anomalies, you waited for the doors to close before sliding to the floor in pure exhaustion.

The day was getting to you.

Closing your eyes, you didn't notice the elevator doors opening until the familiar creak of metal.

“Ah, Ms. L/N,” Lucius stared down at you, “going to your office I presume."

You nod, “Yes, excuse me.”

Both you and Lucius hissed in pain as you accidentally bumped your injured shoulder against the elevator wall. Severus, who was lingering behind Lucius, merely raised an eyebrow at the the simultaneous grimaces. Taking a chance, he flicked Lucius’s ear.

“Ow!” “Severus!”

Part 3

[thebitsandblurbs]

Soul Mark - Harry Potter AU

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader; Severus Snape x Lucius Malfoy (mentioned)

Warning: None

Author’s Note: Just a blurb stuck in my head

Never in his lifetime did Lucius imagine he would meet his Soul. He was content with the arrangement he and Narcissa maintained. She had her lovers, and he had his own from time to time. Though, Severus would certainly frown upon being referred to as one of Lucius's lover.

The Ministry was hosting its annual Midsummer’s Ball, holding the gathering within the Fabled Gardens, a series of levitating islands - each hosting their own little exotic environment. At the center, the Floating Stones- the main attraction for this evening.

The event itself was to begin late afternoon, lasting into the early morning of the following day.

At Fudge’s beckoning, you were forced to attend. As a newly appointed department head, it would be prudent to show camaraderie for your fellow co-workers. Though, you felt out of place -all this pomp and circumstance, the faux smiles, and fake pleasantries left much to be desired.

You wandered the paths, minding the large stones circling the center. Gentle fingers brushed against the rough, rune-carved surface, ripples of blue magic radiated along the surface. If you listened, the sounds of harmonious energy could be heard whispering to those willing to hear it. It was serene- a phenomenon rare in these tumultuous times.

Moonlight bathed your features in soft light as you turned your face to the open sky. Though what you didn’t expect was the sudden onslaught of rain. Before you could pull out your wand, a wave of warm air passed over you and shielded you from any more drops.

He was captivated by you, enthralled by your presence alone. As you rounded the corner, he passed in front. Narcissa was a beautiful woman, but this was different. He yearned for you.

Lucius approached, sheathing his wand back in his cane with a satisfying click. He offered you a hand as you descended from the plateau. As anticipated, a spark, one he felt rather deeply. Something he never felt in his own marriage.

"It seems our beloved grounds keeper are losing their touch," he observed, raising an eyebrow as you plucked your shoes from the ground, “Lucius Malfoy, one of the Curators here at the Ministry."

“ Y/N L/N,” you offer your hand after haphazardly throwing on your shoes, “Head of the Arcane Anomalies Division.”

"Ah, Minister Fudge speaks fondly of you.” Lucius shook it firmly, being mindful to wipe his palm after, “He praises your innovation in the field. As I understand your department and mine are to embark on a Retrieval in the Americas.”

“Indeed… I'm told this is a first for the Ministry to lend aid to our American counterparts. Minister Fudge was kind of enough to delegate the coordination to me. Apparently, he and the President don’t get along all that well as it appears,” you smiled at passersby, offering little waves of greeting. You were half paying attention to the present conversation until a more familiar face approached the both of you, “Hello, Professor Dumbledore- a pleasure to see you this evening. "

Dressed in lavender robes, his usual half-moon glasses perched on his nose, the Headmaster spoke, “Y/N, Lucius, I see you two have had the pleasure of seeing each other before our School Governor’s meeting next week. Have you already discussed the extent of Y/N’s participation this year at Hogwarts?”

"Oh? I wasn't aware you were picking up a tenure - what position?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts, but only part-time. As I understand, the current professor has prior commitments during the school year.”

Lucius hummed, “I see. Well should you have any trouble, do let me know. I am more than happy enough to step in for a friend.”

“Ah, ‘friend’ might be a stretch,” you snag a floating flute of champagne, “Though, if you are around, feel free to stop by whether it be here at the Ministry or Hogwarts."

Narcissa sighed, watching the group talk amongst themselves. She handed Severus a glass of Fae-aged bourbon, "It seems Lucius has taken to yet another one."

"A passing dalliance, I'm sure,” Severus murmured, taking a measured sip, “though he seems rather infatuated with this one. He would have dismissed himself from Dumbledore's presence had he been mildly infatuated. Thoughts, Cissy?”

She waved a finger, summoning another glass, “None for now, Severus, none for now."

Part 2

[thebitsandblurbs]

Trust Rook

Pairing: Elgar’nan x Rook!Reader, Solas x Lavellan (very brief)

Warnings:… None that I can see… other than an extreme age gap…

Author’s Note: Uuuuuuugggggh, I had to get this one out of my head. Will it make sense? Probably not… Definitely not actually. Not beta read.

Elgar’nan looked down on you, eyes aflame with both rage and respect. You played a clever game, one even admired by the Dread Wolf, but like all games- there is an end. One even he feared to admit that it terrified him.

For centuries, he stayed in that prison, his company scarcely satiated by the likes of his brothers and sisters. While admirable in power, they did nothing but mope in the confinement. Towards the end, they were resigned to stay there. However, when that portal open and the Dread Wolf appeared to them in a green haze, he sought to escape. Even if it meant leaving his family behind.

And did the world disappoint him when he emerged. Once great structures that were once known to him laid in decrepit ruins- poor parodies and mockeries erected on their place. The aura of magic, one that used to envelope the very plains he walked on, laid stagnant- locked away and unused. Perhaps the most substantial of atrocities was the disorder - elves, once prized, were nothing more than wandering hermits. Not even a ghost of what they once were.

When your eyes locked with his for the first time in Aralathan, it was not contempt for the lesser beings he once knew as kin, but familiarity, longing. That nostalgia of a time that once urged Elgar’nan to pause his machinations and seek out that fleeting wisp.

He came to you in your dreams. You weren’t hard to find, and Spirits are easy to compel for information.

Of course, when he found you, you nearly fled. However, his control of the Fade was far better here. Try as you might, you weren’t leaving, not unless he allows it.

"You are tired," he said softly, kneeling before you in a surprisingly act of comradery. His eyes were leveled with your's, "Allow me to remove the burden from your shoulders- let me show you what the world could be."

You should've pulled away, but instead you allowed him to enter your mind.

Memories upon memories upon memories washed over you. You half expected to see them filled with his ruling as a tyrant misconstrued with the idea of a benevolent ruler, but you saw more. Peace, contentment- cruelty only when injustice reigned on the outer boarder of territory. He demonstrated empathy, exercised strictness but no more. Everyone had been given a role, deviating when they decided that change was necessary.

"Stop," you remember grasping his wrist, pulling it away from your head and thus shattering the dream, "D'Meta's Crossing."

"An act of cruelty, a consequence for disobedience."

"That was a village- a trading post."

"And what will be rebuilt in its place will honor their memory." He caressed your cheek, an attempt placate you, "Casualty in war is to be expected. Help me end this ceaseless conflict. End your centuries of slumber to build the world again."

For the longest time, your body remained in a comatose state. Emmrich and Bella took shifts watching over you, leaving Davrin, Harding, Neve, Lucanis, and Taash to handle the field work. Occasionally they would come into visit, but they couldn’t stay long if they wanted to keep the world from imploding in on itself.

When you did awake, you seemed different - your leadership style changed from taking the reins to delegation. Suddenly, that urgency to confront Elgar’nan faded, instead forces were reallocated to damage control. The Blight, the spread of its corruption, slowly rescinded as he agreed.

Elgar’nan’s arrival to the Crossroads was certainly an unwelcome surprise.

Though, your greeting to him- even more so.

Cries of protest and betrayal rang out as you kneeled to him. You- of all people- kneeled as he did before in the Fade. He paused, returning the greeting with a simple bow, hand crossing his chest to rest on his heart.

You reasoned that Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain were no longer a problem- it was just Solas now. Upon discovering the blood bond between you two, Elgar'nan broke it.

"Lucanis, wait!" You remember Neve saying, holding the Crow back as you were lowered to the ground.

Elgar'nan's fingers fluttered over your chest, tendrils of red magic flowing into you. He hissed softly, sparks of magic bursting around them. "My, my, Fen’Harel, you’ve grown weak in your current state. Surely there were better binds you yourself could have used.”

Like Morrigan, you harbored the power but not the memories of the Evanuris. Though that last piece passed from generation to generation, first born to first born- hidden to preserve one of the last pieces of Elvhen power.

“Ma vhenan,” Elgar'nan growled, bursts of magic relentlessly attacking the barrier that refused to break, “you would dare defy me-“

You flinched, hearing the continued explosions of battle in the distance. If you had told Elgar’nan what you had planned, then he would have denied it. However, nothing had stopped you before.

There at the center of the crossroads, an emitter. One that would allow for brief waves of the Fade to cross into the mortal plane and vice versa. Order surely lacked within the Fade, and to unleash the Fade without so much as a second thought, would have destroyed both planes of existence.

But to allow both to intermingle in brief but continuous waves, to ease a transition into where both can merge- it sounded like a fool’s dream.

Powering such a device would require a great amount of power, and with the remnants of one god, it might just be enough. “Rook, stop this foolish endeavor! Return to me, now!”

Solas looked towards the blocked Eluvian, wondering what his own love could be thinking, “You have time to turn back, Rook. There is still time to lower the barrier.”

You shook your head, “Even if you did manage to operate the Eluvians, you won’t be as quick to mend or even change them. And by the gods, leaving you alone in this blighted task is the last thing I will do… besides, El will kill me.”

The elf chortled, knowing full well it would be him on his deathbed. He imagined that the Inquisitor would join Elgar’nan in orchestrating his downfall. Returning to the emitter, the Dread Wolf began to channel his magic into it, beginning the ritual.

After the connection between them was destroyed, he thought that this would be the end- for weeks, he raked his mind for information that could aid him. So he was quite surprised when you appeared to him, a portal shimmering behind you.

You knew that he would never stop finding a way out, but you needed him to accomplish what anyone would consider a foolish quest.

The Eluvians acted as connection points though out the world. Unblocking them was easy, however, the modifications to them- a touch more complicated. You needed more power and a grounding source.

Resurrecting and rebuilding the blighted Urthemiel was no easy feat nor was it ever accomplished before. However, given the Watchers were more than happy to lend the area prison of the former dragon demon, that made things a little more easier. In turn for aiding your endeavors, they requested to study and observe this phenomenon.

Emmrich, even in his lich form, struggled to resurrect the creature. You, tapping into the fabled potential and power of a once proud bloodline, fought to keep control. While the Watchers commended your Necromancy abilities, they found your methods to be… unnatural.

The process was slow, methodical. You were sure Ghilan’nain could’ve done this with a simple snap of her claw-like fingers. However, she was busy building her own little sadistic empire; and you were determined to do this yourself.

“Intent,” Elgar’nan once advised from the landing, arms crossed, a permanent frown seemingly etched on his face, “you are trying to force a power you have no inkling to control. Funnel it, ma vhenan, divert its influence to a single point.”

He lifted the dragon- an empty vessel ready to be sculpted- with little to no effort. You, heeding his advice, began to pull matter and magic together to shape the great beast before you into something more. Something more befitting for your fallen companion.

With his body built, it was time to turn to its soul.

Morrigan certainly had her qualms about Kieran being involved, but when remembering her emotions when Flemmeth had taken the boy into the depths of the Fade, she relented. The separation of souls was not an easy task to perform, but one you did with the utmost patience. Elgar’nan assisted, believing only that you were seeking to resurrect the dragon to maintain your power.

Approaching Urthemiel, you touched his snout before laying your head against it. You were embraced by the essence of an old friend.

He whimpered as you drew away from him, watching you rise. You hovered several feet in the air, basking in the moments of peace before the hardship that is to come.

“June,” Elgar’nan roared, increasing the strength of his attacks. Once he saw that nothing he did truly impacted the barrier, he approached the group of nuisance companions that you brought everywhere with you, “Necromancer, you aided in erecting this shield- tell me what must be done to removed that wretched barrier.”

He merely stared up at Elgar’nan. “Trust Rook, Elgar’nan, as they trusted you.”

[thebitsandblurbs]

Marathon - Part 2

Pairing: Analyst!FemReader x Michael Robinavitch x Jack Abbott

Warnings: Thyroid Cancer, One brief but about blood, Surgery (Mentioned), Age gap (implied)

Author’s Note: Finally! After a millennia, part 2! Not beta read. Part 1 - Marathon here

The next time you saw Robby, it was at the hospital. You were on your way to Check-In when you bumped into each other- literally. He seemed surprised, but most certainly happy to see you. “Y/N, what- what’re you doing here? How have you been?”

“I’m doing alright - I’m checking in actually,” You tell him, gesturing to the Check-In room, “I’m having surgery today- a total thyroidectomy."

Well, it was either that or a partial thyroidecromy.

Honestly, who would've thought that you would get diagnosed with Papillary Thyroid Cancer, Stage 1.

Thankfully, you had caught it early. A light itch at the front of your throat led to the discovery of an abnormal lump towards the right side. After it didn't go away for like a month or so, your parents urged you to get checked out. So, you relented.

While not in the typical age bracket, your primary erred on the side of caution and had you referred to an endocrinologist. Several vials of blood and three pin pricks later, you were officially diagnosed. To say that you were shocked would be an overstatement. In fact, you laughed. An unfortunate coping mechanism in times of any level of stress.

Hell, after the appointment, you just decided to treat yourself to some Wendy's and an extended lunch break. After all, you did take flew time for the appointment... and you'll have to deal with your parents' concerns later. Might as well mentally prepare yourself for that.

When Robby found out about why you were there, he opted to stay with you. Your parents- while decent people- would've stressed you out more had you brought them. Alistair had promised to visit you after the surgery was finished.

The two of you talked for awhile, finding no shortage of subjects to chat about: how you came into your job, favorite movies, TV shows either you or he missed on. It could’ve gone on for hours had you not been pulled into Pre-Op. Robby came with you, of course, offering to watch your belongings until you came out of surgery.

Nurses murmured to each other as Robby held your hand on the surgery gurney. He held your hand all the way to the double doors. Slowly did his smile faded as he watched you disappear down into the hall.

Rubbing the back of his head, it was then did he knew that he had become completely infatuated with you.

Jack found Robby napping in the chair, his hand intertwined with your’s. You seemed unnaturally pale, dark circles lined the bottom of your eyes, lips chapped. There was a yellow emesis basin was nestled on your side. It was when your eyebrows furrowed and your chest heaved did he realize what it was for.

Thrusting the basin under your mouth, he helped you sit up as you threw up until the bin. Robby was up in an instant, rubbing your back as Jack fetched a small towel from the cabinets. The taller man gladly accepted the cool, wet towel, pressing it to your forehead as you finished vomiting into the bin. When you finished, Jack helped you back down, gently shushing you as you slipped back into your slumber.

The older man couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on you longer than normal. He could tell that Robby was already in it deep. Everything that you were, the qualities you retained- it was what Robby wanted. The two of them had agreed a while back that they would be open to partners, but both had to agree on that person.

However, Jack had trouble seeing himself with you. He didn’t click with you as well as Robby did. And frankly, he didn’t know you well enough to even try. With how fast Robby decided that you were it, Jack certainly had his doubts about you. What made you special?

“Well,” Jack glanced at Robby as he drew up the blanket to your chest, “you seem to be head over heels for her.”

Robby snorted, “No way.”

“Yes way.” The man countered. He paused, reluctant to say what was on his mind, but, “Robby, I love you but-“

“But what?”

“Man, you’re chasing a fantasy. What do you think she’s going to say when she finds out about us? And you want to include her in the mix? She has her whole life in front of her.”

“Jack,” Robby runs a hand over his tired face, the other resting on his hip, “you don’t even know her.”

“You don’t either!”

“But I want to,” Robby snapped, “I want to- I think she could be- she could be good… for us. I want a life for us, but there’s something missing. You know it, I know it.”

You mumbled something, causing the two men to freeze. Throat sore from the tube, neck throbbing from the fourth inch incision at the base, your stomach churned once more- an unfortunate side effect of the anesthesia. You heard bits and pieces of a conversation, but you weren’t lucid enough to make sense of it.

Jack shook his head, watching you go back to sleep, “Robby-“

“We can talk more about this at home.”

“Yea- fine, I’ll-uh- I’ll see you at home.”

When you woke, Robby had just walked in, still wearing clothes from the day before. Your voice was raspy, “Gee, you look more tired than me. What’s up with you?”

He chuckled, “Traded shifts with a friend. Figured you could use the company.”

“Really,” you wince as you sat up a little more, “me? I’m touched."

A moment passed between the two before you piped up again, "So why are you here though?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why're you here?" You iterated again, "Don't get me wrong- I'm flattered, but you and I are kind of acquaintances."

Robby was taken aback for a moment. He fumbled to find the right words, the ones that justified his reason for being here. But before he could speak, you spoke again, "You ever see Fraiser?"

"Yea, the one with Kelsey Grammer?"

"The very same," you cleared your throat, wincing at the soreness. The Tylenol they gave you earlier did absolutely nothing for the pain, "At the end of Season 4, beginning of Season 5, Fraiser hops on a plane to Mexico in the hopes of finding a woman. Any woman who so much as showed interest, he chased."

"I don't think I'm seeing an analogy here."

"Robby," you turn to him, "are you looking for something to fill or something to cultivate? I mean- I would like to get to know you more as a person. But if it stops short at friends with benefits, then I rather not- no offense! Not that I think you're thinking of me that way!"

"Yea, no- yea, I agree with that," he sighed, leaning back in the chair, "so... would you like to get some coffee some time?"

You smiled, "Yea, I think that'd be cool..."

[thebitsandblurbs]

Special Guests Starring...

Pairing: Actress!Reader x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Jack Abbott

Warnings: None

Author's Note: A bit living rent free in my head? Surely not... but it is! Not beta read

On an uncharacteristically slow night- at least, as slow as the Pitt could get- Princess stationed herself at the table in the break room. The last granola bar from the vending machine and a slightly chilled Sprite rested on the table. Next to them, her phone stood at attention.

Santos sauntered in, on her way to snag a snack, piercing eyes happened to glaze over to the smudged screen, "Holy crap balls!"

Princess couldn't help but yelp as Santos snatched the phone, "Hey-"

"Sandali lang po," she paused the livestream, zooming in on the people in the background, "No fucking way!"

Dana couldn't help but give the intern a strange look as she passed, "Something wrong Santos?"

Your ears perked at hearing your name, mouth agape as people sprung up in cheers around you. It was almost too good to be true. A pair of hands clamped down on your arm, hoisting your startled self up. Robby's voice was crystal clear in the roaring of cheers that filled the room, "Y/N, you won!"

"I won?"

"Yes, you did." Jack said, kissing your cheek and squeezing your hands. It was almost as if he was trying to anchor you to reality. "You remember your speech?"

"I-I think I do..." You said, almost dazily. Your eyes met the proud gazes of your cast mates- people who got you through heaven and hell on this shoot. Cheek kisses and awkward hugs were passed as you shimmed your way out of aisle.

Your stomach churned as you looked upon that stage. The one you've been striving for almost your entire life. In your younger years, you dreaded being in front of the camera. With time, you became comfortable but nevertheless, you valued your time and your life off camera.

Given the chaotic schedule of filming, that didn't stop you, Robby, nor Jack from seeing each other. Though one chilly day in October did you lot discover that the unlimited minutes plan that most- if not all- mobile companies boast about was, in fact, quite limited. Evidently, keeping your phone on while you soundly slept to your lovers' snores was not a good idea.

Frankly, the phone company was astounded at your minutes being stopped at 22,000. While they were gracious enough to extend it by restarting the timer, they did not do it again when the limit was exceeded a second time.

Because of how your dress wrapped around your legs, Robby offered to lead you to the stairs. You two walked hand in hand as you neared the stage. "Breathe," he told you, "you earned this."

Staying at the edge of the steps, he didn't let go of your hand until you reached the top.

By now, the Nurses Station was crowded with nearly the entirely of the on-shift staff. When they heard Santos talking about the Pitt's two most well-known ED doctors on the Oscar's, well, they just had to see it for themselves.

Whittaker stood there, mouth agape, as the camera panned to Robby and Jack holding each other as you thank your peers through tears. He closed his mouth before opening it again to say, "Did anybody know about this?"

Dana shrugged, clearly not as surprised as anyone else was, "They mentioned her once or twice."

[thebitsandblurbs]

Mists and Shadows

Pairing: Mikael Mikaelson x Reader

Warning: Vague mention of self-harm

Author's Note: Just a blurb I had running in my head

You were a well-kept secret, a promise to a dying seeker who uttered his fortune upon dying gasps. He did well to keep you hidden, leaving you behind as he ravaged cities searching for his cursed children. Without your being in danger's path, the Original was free to lay waste to the land.

However, when trapped within the arms of his children and an ashen tipped stake pressing dangerously close to his heart, he felt fear for the first time in centuries. Would you feel him slip away once more?

You who felt your whole world shatter and melt away. The fiery blaze that seized your soul but did nothing to your body. It was constant, steady in its attacks whilst Mikael remained dead. At one point, you were resigned to live with it seeking to end it on your own terms- even if it means mutilating what spirit you had left in your body.

That is until the pain stopped.

It was when Klaus flew away from him, did Mikael both fear for and appreciate your presence. You who walks within mists and shadows.

"Klaus," the fog quickly descended the pavilion, the warm hue soon replaced with cold nothingness, “Mikael. It's time for both of you to play nice now."

"Father, what is this?" Elijah questioned. He scanned the area, seeing no signs of life that could be infringing upon their homestead. No being - mortal or immortal- could conjure such magic.

"Not what," Mikael spoke, snatching that wretched dagger that had clattered to the floor, " who."

A giggle broke the tension, and like that the fog dissipated.

You, who appeared no older than your mid-twenties, stood by Mikael. With a simple flick of your wrist, you whisked away the remnants of the fog, "Bonjour mes amis."

[thebitsandblurbs]

Soul Mark - Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim AU

Pairing: Mercer Frey x Reader x Cicero

Warnings: Stabbing

Author’s Note: So I started playing Skyrim again, and for the life of me, I could not get this out of my head… also oh look, my version of soul mates. Whooooops!

You couldn't help but feel fury and rage at the man before you, Sithis knew that he felt it to. Though, a part of him couldn't really give a damn, but the other did - the one that did heed the carefully hidden mask you donned. He knew better than to test his luck

“Is this really the path you wish to walk? Trapped under the thumb of gods who view us no more than mere ants?" he unsheathed his blade. " I refuse to be a mere puppet at the behest of their games."

"Brynolf!" Karliah shoved you aside as the tip of his blade caught the back of your arm. You stumble, falling into the water as Mercer came after you. Just barely were you able to dodge the swipe of his dwarven sword. Drawing your axes, you steeled yourself against your Soul.

He wasn't intending to kill you- that much you knew. However, that didn't stop him from trying to incapacitate you. Like Karliah, he favored paralytics. You did well to dodge and parry his attacks. Of course, it did help that you could anticipate his thoughts. Then again, this connection of your’s went both ways.

"Lass, you have to go!" Brynolf said through gritted teeth.

Cicero once called you naïve, ironic coming from a court jester, but it was true. Despite the nature of your occupation, you always held the best in people. You hope that you wouldn't be proven wrong here.

Mercer had planned to release Brynolf from his spell once he made his escape from these ruins. With you paralyzed, that would have kept them occupied long enough for him to leave and create a greater distance from the Guild. What he did not anticipate was the feeling of cold steel burning into his stomach.

You purposefully missed deflecting his blade. Stomach wounds, while excruciating, can be treated within hours of occurrence.

Though to be quite honest, this plan wasn't thought through as well as she thought it was.

A ragged breath escapes your lips.

You could feel your Shadow tense as the blade withdrew. The knee jerk reaction caused your body to falter.

He couldn't catch you as you plummeted into the frigid water. Both your bodies cried out in pain as you bashed the platform below before being submerged once more. Not one person in that room will ever forget the sickening thud.

Mercer collapsed, feeling every inch of pain you felt. Remorse coursed through him then panic. Crawling towards the edges he could see you just above the water's surface. That fall knocked you out cold. A blessing considering the water was now reaching your nose. Drowning was a cruel death.

"No, don't!" Karliah said, stopping the now spell-broken Brynolf. They watched as Mercer dove into to retrieve you. “They’re Mark’d.”

“Karliah, she’ll die.”

“Exactly- if she dies, then he does as well.”

"Gallus wouldn't want this."

"Gallus is dead because of him! What's one life in turn for his?”

Mercer dragged you out, panicking as he could feel the cold creeping in. "Y/N…”

The satchel that was on his person had long since fallen since their battle began. Shattered glass bore into his skin as he dug through it. Potions he brought to support his journey were crushed underneath the wretched Eyes of Falmer.

“Jester,” he grunted as he lifted you in his arms, “if there ever be a time for you to show, then it would be now."

Brynolf only stared at his mentor, a man so cold that he once left Vex to the guards when she was trying to break into Goldenglow. It was uncharacteristic to be as panicked as he was.

You had met Mercer when Brynolf recruited you. You weren't in the business of thieving until circumstances forced you to mascarade as a guild member. Of course, circumstances pushed you to delve deeper into the guild. After that, you were in it just to see what adventure they would bring next.

A high profile job brought you to Solitude. Par for the course, someone had requested someone to obtain a casket's worth of gold and gems. A hefty prize that was to be gifted to the widowed queen. And if taken, then a great deal of fortune for the Guild.

Mercer had gone with you to make sure nothing went wrong. While the Thieves Guild had their contacts, the Dark Brotherhood had a far more extensive network.

Everything had almost come to plan if he hadn't been foolish enough to try for more. Cicero had made for an excellent distraction but a renegade guard had stumbled upon your operation.

Karliah had long since fled when you and Mercer reached the cave. Brynolf, bound by honor, stayed to aid you. He felt no feelings towards the man he once called friend.

“Listener," Cicero whispered, the remnants of health potion dribbling from the corners of his mouth, "Cicero would be most displeased if Mother was no longer heard. Are you listening, Listener?”

Brynolf couldn't help but feel like an intruder in their makeshift camp. Cicero had met them at the cave entrance. He had never felt such a dark presence before, especially from an individual wearing such a jovial outfit. The smile he wore was menacing, to say the least.

"Go, Brynolf," Mercer ordered, pressing more cloth to your stomach as Cicero took another swig of the health potion, "you are no longer needed."

The jester-dressed assassin paid neither men any attention as he firmly pressed his lips to yours forcing the red liquid to dribble into your throat. Once he finishes, he raises his head, looking pointedly at the man, "the thief wishes to stay for listener. Cicero wishes for neither of them to stay.”

“Jester-“

“Guild Master,” his tone cut deep, "Babette will not allow you in the sanctum. Stay if you must but only in the town of Dawnstar. As for you, thief, tell your guild to stay away. Cicero has allowed these shenanigans to go on for long enough. The Listener must return to Mother. Otherwise, Mother will not be pleased with dear, dear Cicero."

[thebitsandblurbs]

Sing, Sing, Sing

Prompt: Singer!Reader x Jack Abbot

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Just a feel good blurb. Not beta read.

Santos - out of the goodness of her heart- decided to bring Whittaker to the concert. A friend of her’s was supposed to come but had to bail last second, and no way was she going to let her money go to waste.

They were at the back door, waiting to snag pictures of the musicians returning to their tour buses. Like them, the crowd was constantly cheering. Any pictures that could be taken was taken. When the door opened next, both Santos and Whittaker were stunned.

“Is that Dr. Abbot?” Whittaker asked, flummoxed by the sight of his mentor looking away from the flashes of phones and cameras.

“Holy…shit…”

However, his attention was on the crowd but on the young woman tucked under his arm.

“Hey everyone, thank you for coming!” You shout to the crowd, throwing in a couple of waves in different directions. A couple of times you stopped to sign some memorabilia, but given how late it was and how tired you were, you tried to make it quick. There were some apologies thrown around when you took a step back, but your security and PR Team stepped in to handle the rest.

As you neared the car, you looked up towards your boyfriend, making sure he was still there before you entered the vehicle. He met your eyes, giving you a reassuring look before sliding in beside you.

His fingers intertwined with your’s. Taking a quick glance, you notice him texting with his free hand, “Oh, do you have to go in?”

“No,” he sent the text off, “texting Robby that I saw his interns tonight. Apparently, they called in sick.”

[thebitsandblurbs]

Just You & Me

Prompt: FemFilipina!Reader x Jack Abbot - The Part 2 to "Just You"

Warning: Depression, Trauma, Mental Breakdown, Amputation

Author's Note: "Just You" Part 2 Boogaloo- here we go folks

An arm. A whole fucking arm gone like that.

They had tried to save it- building bone from scratch, supporting it with metal and pins but infection. It spread like wildfire.

For a day, you refused the surgery but when it got to intense and you could barely anchor yourself to reality, it was time.

You understood the how, but you couldn't bear with the why. Why couldn't they save it? Why couldn't they have tried harder? Why did you have to go out on that day of all days? Why did it have to be you?

Sore fingers find their way to the rugged incision along the side of your head. Along with the severe trauma to your arm, your head had hit the wall far too hard for anyone's liking. The brain bleed was substantial, and Jack feared you wouldn't have woken up.

The first few days he spent at your bedside, just staring. He wasn't able to breathe until he saw you move. Eating was second thought- hell, Robby had to get him to shower at some point.

The door opens, and Jack peers in. His hair is messy, a little poofy from the humidity. He has some flowers for you- tulips this time. "Hey, I- uh- wanted to check in on you." The old flowers were tossed into the trash. "How are you feeling?"

Your left hand shakes as you give him a thumbs up. Even that slight movement had you exhausted.

"Yea, I feel that," he pulls up a chair, "how's speech going?"

Blue eyes bore into your's, and that was it. You haven't spoken since you woke up, and when you did, it was gibberish. It took you several moment to comprehend what he had asked before you gave him another thumbs up.

You wanted to tell him that you wanted to do more than just sit in an hospital. To be outside, to see people. You wanted to be reminded that you were than just a incacitated person in a bed. To be so close to fresh air, but held from it- it wad maddening.

Suddenly your chest felt tight, tears welled up in your eyes. That frustration- the one that's been growing since you woke up- its tight finally broke. Like your body, your mind gave way.

Your fist curl, knuckles digging into the hospital bedding. Head low, eyes touch, lips pressed tightly- a faint whimper barely emanates.

"Y/N, hey- no. Don't-" Jack climbed into your bed, wrapping his entire body in your's as you curl in on yourself. "Please, please. We'll be okay- just you and me, okay? It's just you and me."

Part 1: Just You

[thebitsandblurbs]

Marathon

Prompt: Analyst!FemReader x Jack Abbot x Michael "Robby" Robinavitch

Warning: None... Slow burn?

Author's Prompt: I literally told myself I was going to write every day, but as Finals Week goes, that didn't happen 😅. But yay, multi-pairing... well, not yet- but soon!

When the race started, he kept to your side for the first few miles. Though upbeat, it was clear that he was self-conscious of his peers. Rather than keeping his eyes forward, his focus darted from runner to runner.

As the amount of runners grew thinner with each passing minute, he soon left you in the dust which was fine.

Pacing was important- you knew this. By the first portion of the thon, it was just you, your playlist, and the sound of your breaths.

Towards the end, you noticed your friend staggering along before collapsing. He seemed disorientated. His legs struggled to carry him even a step forward. Other runners passed him with a glance and a look of pity, but did nothing.

Speeding up, you got to his side. Concern was plastered on your face as he used you as support. “Hey, man-“

“I can do it- I can do it.” He mumbled, more to himself than to you. His feet slipped against the burning concrete, arms pushing against you, threatening to throw off your balance. Shaking your head, you sighed.

He owes you for this.

“Alright, c’mon,” you murmured, slinging his arm across your shoulders and wrapping your other arm around his side. The height difference was substantial, making it somewhat of an awkward stance. Regardless, you made it work- you had to make it work. No way were you going to leave a thon uncompleted, or make this a bad experience for him.

A part of you felt that you should have gotten help, but at this point, you were locked in.

Commit. You have to commit.

Those words echoed over and over. Each step re-started the mantra.

The journey was slow, and people passed you by without so much as a second glance. The cheering of the crowd grew more intense the closer you got; but the closer you got, the heavier he felt. Honestly, if you had dropped him, he would be none the wiser.

On your second -or maybe third- adjustment, you felt his weight shift. Lighter surprisingly. Either that or you actually followed through with dropping him. But you didn’t-

Peering to your left, you could see another guy- probably the same height as your friend- had taken his other side. He gave you a nod, and together, all three of you passed through together. Frankly, he definitely took most of the weight. At this point, you felt more like an accessory than actual help.

Medics were there to take him from you as soon as you all passed that finish line.

You were exhausted enough from doing the race, but that extra burst had you beat. Hands on your hips, you bent forward as you try to catch your breath and clear the rapidly multiplying stars in your vision. The tell tale signs you were going to faint.

“You good?” The stranger asked, guiding you to a nearby chair.

“Yea, just tired.” You huffed, leaning into the back of the chair. “Thanks…”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath. By the time you opened your eyes, you find yourself peering into crystal blue eyes. He seemed somewhat concerned for your wellbeing.

Robby couldn't help but stare at you. Something about you just drew him closer. With Collins, it was a feeling that grew but with you- it was just there. He was concerned about you, there was no doubt about it.

And rightfully so, you were unnaturally pale and your breathing was still rather heavy. Drops of sweat dribbled down your face before being wiped away. Someone gave you a cool wash cloth, and God, was it appreciated.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll just sit with you for a few moments.” He said as he took a chair. His hand was out for you to shake by the time his back pressed against the seat backing. “Michael, but everyone calls me ‘Robby’.”

“Y/N,” you tell him, “Robby?”

“My last name is Robinavitch. ‘Robby’ sounds a lot friendlier.”

“Teacher?”

“Close enough, but doctor.”

“Oh.”

“You?”

“Analyst.”

He won't deny it, he was a little disappointed. Some fantasy in the back of his head imagined you showing up through the ER doors, claiming that it's your first day.

It was idle chatter for a while- shallow things anyone could find on a LinkedIn or FaceBook Profile. After about 15 minutes, you saw someone approach the two of you. It looked like he was also a participant, going by the number plastered on his chest.

“Robby, I got to the finish line- Jake said he saw you go into the Medic’s tent.”

“Yea, one of the runners had some trouble staying on his feet. Y/N and I helped him cross. Jack, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jack.”

Contrary to Robby, his companion was shorter. His hair was greying, but it suited him. Overall, he seemed serious. In fact, his eyes bore into your very being. His face said nothing, but his general energy was unnerving to say the least.

You couldn’t help but shrink away from the cold stare emitting from the man before you. You did, however, offer a small wave before turning your attention back to your friend. He seemed to be doing better, considering he was doing his best to flirt with the female medic.

After your friend was well enough to get back on his feet, he insisted on taking you all out for dinner. After some insistence, you went back to you apartment to get refreshed and changed.

That social battery you had, it was awfully low today. A part of you just wanted to get back in bed, but at the same time, you wanted to see him again.

Robby- he seemed like a nice fellow.

You were a tad late having walked from your apartment, but you had just caught up with them when they were getting seated by the waitress.

It was kind of a nice dinner. You had expected it to be an awkward one given you all had just met, but Alistar kept the conversation going. The topic transitions were smooth, segueing into the next interesting topic. In a way, you kind of envied him- out of the two of you, he was the more social one.

More than once, do you catch yourself ogling at them. When one or the other turn to meet your gaze, you look away almost immediately. Every now again, you sip the glass of water by your right.

By the end of dinner, you all had gotten to know each other rather well but not enough to call each other friends.

You stayed long enough to have another drink with Alistar before heading out.

Just about a block away you encountered the two men again, but they looked rather heated. Opting to stay out of it, you tried to sneak around them, intent on avoiding any eye contact or look in their general direction. Though you caught a glimpse of Jack's eyes as you passed, and as you have done in the past, you quickly look away.

As you left them behind, a part of you hopes that you would see them again.

Part 2 - Marathon

[thebitsandblurbs]

Silver Fox

Prompt: College!Reader x Jack Abbot

Warning: violence, gun, trauma, age gap

Author’s Note: Another blurb! Had to do it- also not beta read. This one might evolve into a multi-ship, but I’m not sure yet. Also can we get a shout out for MLIS Students

If this situation couldn't get any more embarrassing, it just did.

Nevermind your friend in extreme hysterics, trying to make sure that you were comfortable and constantly asking if you were okay. And you should be freaking out, but you’re not.

That is until you saw him.

That one night stand - the one you fled from before he even woke up - was accompanying you to a trauma room. He was surprised as much as you were.

A little bit of your soul just died for a moment, replaced with the raging fires of embarrassment. You wanted to sink into the gurney.

“We can’t go to another hospital, can we?” You muttered to your friend.

“Of course not! Why woul-“ She gasped in surprise and… delight? “Oh! Silver-“

“Fox, yep.” You gritted your teeth as the gurney was lowered to the ground, and when it finally touched down. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph!”

Even before the paramedics could say anything to Jack, your friend launched into the full story.

Evidently- as it turns out- it wasn't a smart idea to take on a robber solo, and throwing something at him was an even worse idea. However, when your friend's shop is broken into by some wannabe thug, but you just had to act.

The guy came in with a knife, one that was easily disarmed with a haphazardly thrown vase of roses. You hissed at your friend to run, pushing her towards her back office where there was another door that led to a nearby alley.

The gun - one he was reluctant to use in the first place- was tucked in his pocket and drawn out as an instinct. All he wanted was the money in the register, just enough to pay off that last bit of debt.

That robber didn’t intend to have a witness, and two- well, that’s just unacceptable.

One gun shot wound to your left shoulder and a partly grazed right ear later, the robber had you cornered when police arrived. The thrown vase served as the perfect distraction for your friend to flee and get help.

The long rant, which lasted from ambulance to Trauma 2, ended with your friend being sent to the Waiting Room so you could have some peace. That was a saving grace if anything.

"I guess this is karma for leaving your apartment early,” you say to the good doctor as he approached your bedside.

Dr. Jack Abbot, ER Doctor and silver fox.

Your face burned even hotter as you remember the events leading up to you and him. He gave you a smile at the bar, and you just melted. You aren’t the type of person to have a one night stand, but something about him felt different.

And Jack could have said the same as well.

Robby just had to bring him to the bar, something about a celebratory drink for another year spent in the Pitt. To him, it was just another day; but to Robby, these type of achievements should be celebrated.

Needle in hand, ready to numb your shoulder, Jack offered you a smirk, “ If I had known you planned on sneaking out, I would’ve left you a cup of coffee…” First injection. “Thought you said you were a librarian, not a vigilante.”

“Neither- just an idiot studying Library Science,” you winced as you felt the needle pierce your skin again. “I said I wanted to be a librarian.”

A moment passed before you piped up again, “Are we on a first name basis, Dr. Abbot?”

He snorted, “Right now? No, but we could be later.”

The nurse in the room had originally given him a stunned look, but now she was just ogling at him. He, however, appeared to remain unfazed. Though, if anyone looked close enough, the back of his neck seemed a little more redder than usual. In his mind, he could have sworn you said that you were a librarian.

The age difference was substantial. Some of the nurses would certainly see this as scandalous. Hell, even Robby might have a word or two. It would be one thing if you were 30, but this might be a bit much.

Regardless, he still felt drawn to you.

“Dr. Abbot,” another nurse popped her head in, “Dr. King needs some assistance in Trauma 3.”

Oh, thank God.

He nodded, moving to stand, “Right, well-“

“It’s alright, Dr. Abbot, I can take over!” Someone said from the hall.

You only caught a glimpse of his bearded face before he rounded the corner. He seemed familiar- you recognize him as the person that gave Jack the nudge in your direction. Robby… you think his name was.

You guessed that Robby must’ve seen you come in. He let Jack take the lead on this one.

“And it looks like you’re stuck with me,” Jack said, almost smugly. Clearly, he was amused.

You two talked for a awhile, getting to know each other a little more. This was far more talking than what was done at the bar.

You found out he was a veteran and the backstory to his leg. He preferred night shifts and rarely worked day shifts. The only time he breaks eye contact is to perform a task. If he was still, then all eyes were on you. Even in a calm environment, the eye contact was intense.

He found out that you recently transferred to the University of Pittsburgh after a brief semester at PennWest University. While online classes were convenient, they weren’t for you. You lived alone, and the only friend you have is a small business owner of a nearby flower shop. She was more than happy to lend you a room above the shop as long as you were able to help out around the shop.

The following morning he spent in your room. Your clothes from the night before were beyond salvaging and thus discarded without a second thought. Your friend couldn’t afford to miss a day of work. Jack was kind enough to grab a couple of things in your size, after subtly checking the sizes on your original clothes before he threw them.

When they discharged you the next day, Jack met you at the patient bay. He was dressed in casual clothes, sunglasses on, camo bag slung over his shoulder. The sun was hitting his face just right. He certainly was a rugged silver fox, "Heard you didn't have a ride, figured I take you home rather than sitting in a grungy cab."

“And if I like grungy cabs?”

“Then you need to seriously reevaluate your tastes.” He opened the car door, “Come on.”

The car ride was riddled with a comfortable silence, every so often you would break it to give him directions. But then-

“So a… Vase?”

“What? You want me to hit him with flower power?”

“No,” he chuckled, “just a vase?”

“I’m clearly a lover, not a fighter.”

“So this is what happens when you mix both.” He sighed, “Just so you know- what you did, that was brave. Stupid, but brave.”

You scoffed, “Yea… I could’ve gotten myself killed.”

“Sure, but you put yourself in the line of fire to help a friend. That’s more than what most people would do today.” He pulled up to the curb. The car lurches to a stop. “This… is you.”

“This is me,” you echoed distantly, looking at the flower shop. You could see your friend inside, sprucing up the place. It didn’t even look like there was an accident. There was a newly installed camera by the entry way though, and what looks like a keypad.

He helped you out of the car, careful to mind your injured shoulder.

“Thanks- em- for giving me a ride home.”

Jack smiled, giving you a small nod as you passed him.

You got all the way to the door before you paused. Something tugged at your chest, your throat feels tight. You should ask him.

He was almost to the car door when he heard it, “Did you want to come inside?”

“Yea,” he locked his car, “I got time.”

[thebitsandblurbs]

Just You

Prompt: FemFilipina!Reader x Jack Abbot

Warning: car accident, trauma, limb damage

Author’s Note: Just a blurb I had in my head for a while. Not beta read- it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything.

You were never intended to be a secret- it just seemed that way.

He had met you several months ago while on a rare outing. You were closing up shop when you had slipped on that last step. Frankly, it was a nasty crash that ended up with a shattered glass door and a sizeable gash on your forearm. The heat that crept into your face overtook that burning sensation from your arm away.

Two awkward encounters and a coffee run-in later, both of you had your first date.

Another followed after, then another.

Eventually, he moved in.

His belongings soon intermingled with yours.

His and your soon became ours.

You and he were leaving the movie theatre when Santos noticed the two of you heading to the car. Ever the gentleman and with a softness no one else has ever seen, he opens the car door for you, minding your legs before closing the door. That small smile he gets when he sees you, it never left his face- not once. Contrary to the stoic demeanor he maintains in the Pitt.

Of course Santos couldn’t keep it to herself. She told Whittaker who accidentally let it slip to McKay who discussed it with Mateo who casually mentioned it to Princess, and well, who told the rest of the nursing staff.

Night shift was buzzing by the time he walked in.

He had never learned another language in life, but once he heard that it was your native language, he strived to learn. Something that came in handy when he passed Perlah and Princess muttering to themselves. Robby couldn’t help but stifle a snort when the pair spun to look at him in surprise.

Then you rolled in.

————

It was a nice day- right up until it wasn't.

No one saw the car coming. No one heard the screeching of tires or panicked screams from nearby pedestrians.

Not until it crashed through the storefront.

You got caught in the thick of it.

The dust settled. Despite your best efforts, your arm was trapped between the car and the wall. Stars clouded your vision as you blindly grasped at anything to give you leverage to stand. Faintly, you could hear people calling 911.

"Female, 25, extensive damage...."

Jack nearly buckled from seeing the sight of you. His face drained of color as he struggled to understand what happened.

"Y/N," he pushed past Robby, "Y/N!"

You didn’t answer.

"Y/N, I'm here- I'm here."

Part 2: Just You and Me