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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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An Unexpected Rival

Characters: Childe, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,556

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When thinking about fighting for the affections of someone, one normally imagines great declarations of love and promises of loyalty. But sometimes that’s not it. Sometimes it’s simply living with a being that hates you more than anything.

In which the reader’s pet hates their s/o

Author’s Note: I did give the pets names because I felt I couldn’t really refer to them as “your pet” the whole time. I also am not a pet owner. Still I hope you enjoy!

Going to try non bullet pointed for a bit. We’ll see how it goes!

Childe

Honestly you didn’t know what to do.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the living room of your apartment, trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of your dog sitting directly on the chest of your much beleaguered partner.

You hadn’t really considered the consequences of introducing Childe to Lacey. I mean, how badly could the interactions be between the man you were convinced was your soulmate and the nicest golden retriever that had ever existed? If there was going to be issues you’d reasoned it would be on Childe’s side. So when your partner lit up at the mention of your fluffy child, you’d assumed all would be well.

Evidently that was not the case. You knew that Lacey could be clingy on occasion, but she’d really been making an effort these past few weeks. Knocking your partner out of the way when you two walked through the door together, refusing to stop walking when you two met up at a park or on the street, refusing to answer to Childe’s attempts at affection. It was almost impressive, the lengths Lacey was willing to go to establish her position as Number One Childe Hater – especially impressive considered the well-attested competition, including but not limited to a Fatui Harbinger.

Now you sprung into action as best you could, bottling up the giggles that threatened to erupt at any moment.

“Childe!” You exclaimed, walking closer. Lacey still refused to stand up, but her tail thumped excitedly against the floor, and she let out a short whine of appreciation. Unfazed by this cry for praise you sighed. “Lacey! Get up! Honestly, you’re not being a very good testament to your intelligence right now.”

Nudging her slightly you sighed with relief as the golden retriever sprang up, attacking your hands and face with kisses as you dragged Childe up to a sitting position. Childe at least seemed unfazed by the sudden attack, letting out a mere “oof”, and smiling a slightly embarrassed smile.

“I’m really sorry about this Childe.” You said, hands still batting away Lacey’s frantic activity as she attempted to get you to focus on her.

“It’s alright. Just, wow she’s a heavier girl than I expected.”

“Hopefully no squished organs?”

“Archons no! It’ll take more than this girl to fell me, don’t you worry.” Childe attempted to give Lacey a pet, but the dog that had just before been laying all over him now scampered out of the way, instead pawing at your back.

“Lacey! Stop being so rude! Urgh, and here I was hoping that you two would be somewhat settled before I went on my trip.”

You sighed, letting your head drop into the palms of your hand, not wanting to think about what might happen during the week and a half that Childe would be required to take care of Lacey. Would she even let him in the apartment to feed her? What about walks and the like? Were you going to come home to all our warfare? Childe seemed to understand your quickly dropping mood, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing small circles with his thumb, even as Lacey whined and began pawing at his arm.

“I promise it’ll be alright my dear. We’ll manage while you’re gone and who knows? Maybe by the time you get back we’ll be thick as thieves, and then you’ll be the one getting sat on.”

“Who knows.” You let out a burst of laughter. But even as you two shared this moment of levity your mind continued to spin its threads, dreading the days to come and what you’d be presented with the day you got back.

“Alright, what’re we going to do.”

Childe stood in the foyer, hands on his hip, irritation in his heart. Lacey seemed to be mimicking the gesture, chest puffed out proudly as she stared the Harbinger down. They must’ve been standing like that for at least ten minutes, Childe thought to himself, ten minutes of staring and nothing yet done. It was beginning to grate on him, and were it not for the fact that you’d have to pay for damages, he was quite tempted to vault over the nearby furniture, if only so he could get to the kitchen and have this miserable showdown be over.

He didn’t dislike Lacey, no Childe didn’t think he could truly dislike any dog if he tried. He used to dream of owning a wolf pup, of flopping around in the snow with his companion, running as fast as he could and still being chased down with a crash, before being bombarded by affectionate pawing and kisses. These memories seemed quite silly when faced with the reality of caring for a dog however, and now he wanted only to bang his head against the wall, and maybe pass out from the exertion.

“I get that you love your owner.” He spoke again, how long had he been talking to this dog? “But I don’t think this is the way to win their heart.”

Lacey said nothing, simply narrowing her eyes and letting out a slightly hiss. Still Childe continued on.

“And like it or not you are going to have to eat eventually. So I suggest if you’re going to misbehave, that you should at least do it on a day when I’m not your primary caretaker.”

When there was still no movement from Lacey Childe sighed. That evening when he returned to his own apartment it was with the unfortunate knowledge that golden retriever bites hurt a lot more than he’d expected them too.

It was storming, and the city of Liyue had transformed from a glistening city to one of mud and rusted iron. Childe swore under his breath as he pulled his coat closer around him, desperately trying to keep as dry as possible. Who knew if he’d be able to make it to your bedroom and grab one of his spare shirts with Lacey acting like he was a burglar instead of well known acquaintance? The song and dance between the two of them was grating. Feeding your golden retriever being nearly impossible, not to mention the times when Childe half dragged Lacey through the most half assed of walks. Really how could such a gentle spirit turn so stubborn so quickly? Childe didn’t know, all he knew was that the sooner you came home the sooner he could stop worry about being nipped at the heels.

The sight that met Childe at the entrance to your apartment was jarring. Instead of the usual irritated dog Childe was met with utter silence, and a stillness that betrayed the fact that not only was Lacey not in the hall, but she was also avoiding the kitchen and the living room.

“Lacey?” Childe called out, getting no answer but the whipping of wind and the rumble of thunder. “I swear if you managed to run off – Lacey!”

Going further down the hall Childe finally heard the sound of muffled whimpering. Walking into your bedroom he spied Lacey under the bed, eyes filled not with disdain, but with anxiety.

“Lacey, why in Teyvat are you here?”

There was no reply, until suddenly another clap of thunder shook the walls. Lacey let out a yelp and crawled under the bed a little more, flattening her head against the floor, although there was not much room left in that department. Childe stared at this for a second letting the pieces fall into place. He just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that this was the same Lacey who so fearlessly guarded the apartment against his entrance every day.

This slight smugness was extinguished rather quickly though, instead replaced with a sense of pity, and the need to make this poor girl feel the least bit better.

“Hey, hey it’ll be alright.” Childe spoke softly. For a moment he left the room, but quickly he returned, towels and blankets in hand, praying that you wouldn’t mind that he messed up your closet a little bit.

“Let’s make a fort, shall we?”

Not waiting for any sort of acknowledgment Childe began to pile up the covers on your bed, making sure to lay down towels in case you were worried of shedding. At first Lacey did nothing much than scooch out enough to watch him, but within the next flash of lightning she was up and moving, diving under the makeshift fort and clambering around Childe, as if trying to find out if she could burrow through the Harbinger.

“I know, I know, it’s pretty scary out there, huh?” Childe ruffled Lacey’s head slightly. “But you’ll see, it’ll pass soon enough. And then we can go back to fighting, alright.”

Lacey let out a whine, but nevertheless began to settle down, lying down and once more resting her head on her paws.

“There’s a good girl.” Childe smiled softly. “You aren’t that bad you know. At least you aren’t that bad when you’re not trying to bite my leg off.”

Your surprise at the improvement in Childe-Lacey relations was somewhat immense when you returned. Though Childe refused to say what had managed to form such a bond between your disgruntled pet and him, only that he hoped you didn’t mind dog hair on your bed. Lacey, for her part, no longer tried to sit on your partner.

Even if she still pushed him out of the way when you came home.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche could deal with a lot of things. He could deal with the fact that your parrot wouldn’t let the man within three feet of the parrot’s cage without attempting to bite his hands off. He could deal with the obnoxiously loud clicking whenever he got too close to you, and he could deal with fact that your parrot was fond of yelling random phrases at him in the most aggressive tone Scaramouche had ever heard. Scaramouche could deal with all of that. What he couldn’t deal with is what your parrot insisted on calling him, no matter how much time was spent saying: “Scaramouche. I am Scaramouche!”

“Electro boy? Really?”

“I’m sorry Scara,” you let out a giggle, “I didn’t know what your name was when I first saw you.”

Oh Scaramouche was sure of that, but did that really mean that Oliver had to call him solely by that title? It didn’t help that you must’ve referred to Scaramouche an awful lot as “Electro Boy” for it to be the name that stuck in Oliver’s mind. And regardless of how many times you used the title, it was one thing for you to use the nickname. It was quite another thing for Oliver to, since, unlike in your case, Oliver’s use of “Electro Boy” could be nothing but derogatory.

Scaramouche had long given up in wooing the errant parrot over. If they were to be mortal enemies, so be it. He’d dealt with that before.

“Oh Scaramouche, you must be joking!” You’d exclaimed when he’d revealed this train of thought, cupping his face in your hand and pressing affectionate kisses to his face. He’d let you do so, let you imagine that one day there might be a reconciliation. But in his heart he knew. Unless Oliver learned to stop with the name calling, Scaramouche would never forgive him for the insult.

“I wish you would write.” You whispered.

Pain skirted through Scaramouche’s face, but still he refused the promise that you needed. You knew that Scaramouche would never be able to have a normal relationship with you, that these trips were necessary, were a part of him that you’d never be able to wrench away. Still, the least he could do was promise to write. Without his writings, well how could you even be sure he was alive?

“I’m sorry.” Scaramouche whispered. Leaning in so your foreheads were touching he let out a sigh, warming your lips with his breath. “I cannot promise I will write. I wouldn’t like to break a promise to you.”

“I know.” You whispered back, shaking your head as much as you could. “Still, I’d almost rather a broken promise.”

“You wouldn’t. I know it would drive you mad.”

“Perhaps, but better than nothing?”

You two stood there, basking in silence. A familiar cry broke the reverie.

“Electro Boy! Electro Boy!” A series of clicks accompanied the sudden shriek. There was no better way to break the spell. Almost immediately Scaramouche pulled away. Walking towards the door he paused, turning around one more time.

“I’ll miss you.”

Those words washed over you, their owner having been carried away with the wind.

Scaramouche hurried up the steps, anticipation keep his pace quick and his thoughts a jumble of fragments. The long mission he’d been sent on was finally over, and now he could think not of noisy soldiers, nor of the people who continually disappointed him, but of you. He couldn’t wait, every step on the staircase felt like an obstacle, something he must triumph against to reach you. Finally arriving at your door he barely paused, stepping this way and that as he opened the door before striding into the hallway as fast as he could.

“I’m home.” He called into the afternoon light. Almost immediately two things happened. One was that you leapt off your position on the couch, practically barreling yourself into his arms. The second was that Oliver began to screech, hopping from one foot to the other in an indecipherable dance.

“Scara, you’re home!” You cried, exclamation by the way you buried your face into his shoulder.

“Scara! Scara! Scaramouche!” Oliver echoed. The words made Scaramouche freeze up, taken aback as he was by their usage.

“What was that Oliver?” He called out, not altogether sure if the parrot would even reply to him. Scaramouche had really only referred to Oliver by name the first time he met him. After that you had to settle with “the bird” or “the noisemaker”. This time, however Scaramouche couldn’t help but use it. This was, after all, a matter of great importance.

“Scaramouche, Scaramouche, who’s a pretty bird?” Oliver tittered irreverently.

His tone was still somewhat sharp, Scaramouche never heard Oliver snap at you the way he did him, but nevertheless the words had struck a chord. Finding himself at a loss for words Scaramouche stared at you, trying to figure out what was going on.

“That’s probably my fault,” you laughed hesitantly, “I guess I was talking about you more than I thought. It’s only that, well I missed you an awful lot. And Oliver is my confidante, he always has been. So I guess I’ve just been talking a lot to him about you. I’ve really missed you…”

Scaramouche felt his heart soften. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to your forehead, much to the indignation of Oliver, who twittered away as normal. Still, it was better than it had been before. And, if Scaramouche could admit it to himself, he didn’t mind the idea of you pouring out to Oliver how much you missed him. It made him feel important, feel whole. And if your rude bird had helped at all, then Scaramouche could find it in him to respect Oliver, though only a little.

“I’m glad you thought of me.” He whispered to you. “And I’m glad you still had a confidante to talk to.”

And if the result was a parrot who no longer called him “Electro Boy”, then all the better.

Xiao

Honestly Xiao couldn’t really see the appeal of pets. Something that was only cemented when he met your cat.

“And this is Honey.” You’d said softly, picking up the orange feline and cradling her in your arms. The cat made no sounds, instead it stared straight at Xiao, eyes narrow, gaze untrusting. Xiao was equally out of depths in this matter. What was he supposed to do? Pet it, presumably. Reaching out with hesitant fingers Xiao almost immediately pulled away, dodging an onslaught of clawing.

Ever since then there seemed to have been an odd hierarchy established, at least in Honey’s mind. She never let Xiao sit next to you, oh no, that would’ve been too generous. Instead Honey squeezed into the space between you two, no matter how small and wow was it small sometimes, meowing angrily as Xiao passed his arm over her head to hold your hand. Sometimes she’d try the tactic of walking all over you, lying on your lap, wrapping herself around your shoulders, and all the time glaring at Xiao as if he’d brought some sort of catastrophe on her for daring to try and get close to you.

“Your cat hates me.”

“She does not!” You exclaimed. “Honey doesn’t hate anyone! She just needs to get used to you.”

“She hates me. She thinks I’m beneath her.”

Xiao glared up at Honey, who was looming over the conversation via the bookshelf in your bedroom. Honey’s eyes narrowed and for a moment Xiao felt as if he’d somehow spilled the cat’s secrets. It wasn’t his fault that he knew what she was thinking. After all, hadn’t Xiao been like that for a time? An ornery soul who found most interactions beneath him? Who knew he’d be on the receiving end of that relationship someday. He certainly didn’t appreciate it now.

“You just need to get used to one another.” You continued to assure Xiao. “Honey’s a little bit possessive. It’s nothing personal. She’ll get over it.”

Well it’d been four weeks since that conversation and unfortunately Honey showed exactly zero signs of “getting over it”. Though perhaps she wasn’t clawing at him anymore, maybe because you’d actually scolded her for it, the gaze never left her eyes. The fact that she meowed loudly whenever Xiao made more contact than hand holding also didn’t help her case.

Xiao sighed, staring at the sky as the sun began its descent beyond the peaks of Liyue. A cluster of trees ringed the back part of your house – trees apparently planted by your grandparents – and Xiao enjoyed perching in them to watch the sunset.

“At least here the cat will leave me alone.” He muttered.

It’d been a tiring day. Honey had been in a particularly bad mood – probably the result of Xiao staying the night – and the atmosphere in the house had become somehow so tense that Xiao figured taking a hike wouldn’t be a bad idea. Even if he found the whole exercise a bit demeaning.

“I’m losing to a cat.” Xiao called flatly out into the air. There was no reply of course, but he didn’t mind that. Imagine what his fellow adepti would think of him now, flailing around, trying to win the affections of a furball whose favorite pastime was being as irritating as possible.

Now Xiao heard a familiar yowl. Glancing down he spied Honey, hair standing on end, gripping a branch as if her life belonged to it. An old conversation rose to the front of his mind. Something about cats being able to go up trees very easily, but not so much down. What an idiotic creature, he thought to himself.

Still it’d be ill form to leave the poor idiot clutching onto the branch, so fighting his smugness as beset he could Xiao leaned over and attempted to wrench the cat from the branches. Honey let out a series of shrieks, claws digging into the bark, but eventually she relinquished and Xiao pulled her up onto his lap. Almost immediately she began pawing at his chest, meowing her indignancy.

“I know.” Xiao glared at the cat. “But they wouldn’t be very happy if you got stuck.”

As if to reply Honey narrowed her eyes, turning around to look at the skyline, rather than acknowledge the adeptus she was now laying on. Xiao hummed in response.

“You know things would be easier if you weren’t so aggressive.”

A meow in response.

“I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why you’re so territorial.”

Another meow.

“I suppose I’m like that. I also want them to myself. Things would be easier without you clawing at me. But they love you, and that’s what matters. I don’t know why but they do.”

Silence, perhaps Honey was insulted by the way Xiao spoke.

“I can’t say I’ll love you. But I’ll try to like you. As long as you try to like me.”

Silence again, but this time Xiao took it as an assent. Letting out a sigh he turned back towards the horizon, gaze drifting towards the peaks that Honey too was watching with interest. The night was alive with the soft chirps of insects, and a faint breeze ruffled Xiao hair, dancing through Honey’s fur. Xiao let out a sigh and, nemesis on his stomach, allowed himself a little rest.

You stared at the mismatched pair, a smile playing on your lips. How funny they looked, curled up together. Like two cats, one a panther, the other a tabby. And yet somehow the tabby was running the shots.

They look so peaceful, you mused to yourself, who knows what they might be like in the morning.

At the very least, you’d be sure to enquire about the nature of your partner’s conversation with your cat, something which had seemed very important to him.

#childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #childe #xiao #scaramouche #requested #scenarios #my writing

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agustdakasuga · 4 years

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You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 2

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

You cannot stop thinking about the wolf. You felt a strong bond with it despite it only being around for a few hours. A part of you dreads going back to the quiet house without him there.

“Did he get back to his pack safely?” You sighed as you looked out the window. For some reason, the wolf couldn’t leave your mind. You wondered how he was, if his bandages came loose, if he found his home.

All the more your bullies were annoyed that you weren’t even sparing them a glance today. Your mind was somewhere else, thinking about someone else that they seemed invisible to you. Lifting your hand, you remembered how soft his fur felt against your fingertips.

“God, he’s a wild animal who just needed shelter for the night. He’s gone.” You scolded yourself mentally.

But for some reason, you were so captured by him. The way he would whine or grin at you like a person would. Or how he scoffs or rolls his eyes at your words, as if telling you to shut up.

If not for his looks, he could be human.

Maybe this was the universe telling you to get a pet and stop being such a loner. You couldn’t help but scoff at that thought.

“Omg, she has officially gone crazy. She’s even talking to herself.” Someone pointed at you, snickering. Everyone laughed alone. You just rolled your eyes and rested your chin in your palm.

After working, that evening, you got down at the bus stop and headed through the forest track that you always took to get back to your wood cabin. You had your earphones blasting music in your ears as you walked. The darkness didn’t scare you. There weren’t many wild animals to be afraid of anyways, well... except now you knew there were wolves.

*howl*

You pulled one earphone out when you heard a distance howl. Your heart grew warm as you thought that it could be your wolf.

“I hope you found your family.” You smiled and continued on your path. When you reached your home, instead of going into the house, you sat on the log outside, admiring the stars.

Hearing footsteps, you turned your forehead to see him. He walked over casually, planting his butt down next to your feet. You blinked at him.

“You’re... still here?” You were confused.

“Don’t you want to find your family?” You stroked his head. His head dropped and ears drooped at your words, letting out a whine. Did he not have a family like you? Was he also left behind? Sighing, you continued to stroke his head and even rubbed his ears.

“Guess we’re both alone, huh?” You chuckled bitterly.

"Well, at least we both have each other to count on now.” Jimin barked.

“Alright. You can stay here with me if you want.” You rolled your eyes as you shook your head.

He stood up and smiled at you, wagging his tail as he let his tongue fall out of his mouth. You laughed but was caught off guard when he pounced on you, showering you in licks.

“Yah! Yah! Stop!” You laughed.

“Never!” Jimin laughed as he continued to shower you in kisses. He backed away and sat back down as you pushed yourself up.

“Alright, let’s get dinner.” You dusted your clothes before unlocking the door and entering. As you left him to go shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t stop smiling. You touched the mirror, it has been so long since you’ve even seen yourself smiling. There has just never been a reason to smile so you never did.

You came out and changed into comfortable clothes. When you came back down, the wolf stood up and headed to you.

“After dinner, we’re giving you a name. I don’t think you really like the name ‘wolfie’, huh?” You patted his head and he let out a bark in agreement.

It was a dinner of mixed noodles for you and for the wolf, the same boiled chicken. He was not impressed, his expression was a dead giveaway as you put down the bowl in front of him.

“I need to go grocery shopping tomorrow, okay? This is all I have.” You said defensively. He huffed but dug into his food anyway. You sat on the couch to eat.

As you watched your show, you felt something wet on your cheek, making you jump.

“Yah! I should seriously attach a bell to you. You walk too quietly.” You scoffed as he used his nose to boop your cheek. You slowly inched away, only to have him step closer to you. He eyed your food and blinked up at you innocently. You knew what he was hinting at.

“Nu uh. This is mine. You already ate your share.” You held the bowl away. He whined, staring into your eyes.

“Sorry but puppy eyes don’t work on me, mister.” You scolded as you continued eating. He gave up, lying down next to you, resting his head on his front paws.

After you were done, the wolf waited for you to wash up and do the dishes. He tilted his head, looking at you curiously as you pulled out a chart.

“Here. Choose your name.” You pointed to the Korean alphabet.

“Do you even know how to-”

He cut you off by stepping forward and using his right paw to tap at the alphabet. You quickly wrote down wherever he stepped on and put it together. He sat down and waited for you to put the words together. He smiled at the way you stuck your tongue out of your mouth as you were deep in thought. Finally, you slammed the writing pad down, making him jump.

“Oops. Sorry... Jimin.” You looked up at him.

“You got it!” He barked and you smiled, throwing your hands over him to pull him into a hug.

“You like the name Jimin?” You asked again and he barked.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin. I’m (y/n).” You pulled away. He barked and turned around, chasing his tail, making you laugh before falling onto his back and rolling around in joy.

“(y/n)! What a beautiful name for a beautiful human.” Jimin softened. You smiled at Jimin and patted his head. Looking at the clock, you went upstairs to do your homework or it would be too late. You didn’t know that Jimin followed you. He watched as you settled in front of the desk with your books.

“What are you doing in here?” You giggled. Jimin stood on his hind legs, resting his front paws on your thighs as he sniffed.

“It’s math. You know math?” You chuckled, stroking his head.

He jumped down and curled up next to my chair on your rug. You turned back to do your word. Jimin chuckled as he heard your occasional cursing as you wrote the workings wrong.

“She reminds me of Jungkook...” Jimin looked at you fondly. But immediately grew sad at the thought of his youngest brother. How was he doing? Was he okay?

After a few hours, you stood up and stretched your arms. Jimin lifted his head to watch you. You moved around the room, packing your things. He admired the way you would hum a random tune as you did your things like packing your bag and organising your messy desk. You were so amusing that he could watch you for hours.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You said, making Jimin blink.

“You probably don’t understand that.” You laughed, patting his head as you walked past.

“Hmm... Tomorrow is Friday but I’m not working this weekend. Maybe we can have a picnic by the lake.” You checked your calendar. Jimin stood up and barked in approval, wagging his tail.

“Maybe I can find my pack!” Jimin thought excitedly.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been on a picnic.” You sat on the edge of your bed, a sad smile on your face.

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Don’t be sad, please.” Jimin whimpered, resting his head on top of your lap. You shook your head with a forced smile. Standing up, you went to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you returned, dressed in your pyjamas.

“Your bed is in the living room, mister.” You pointed. Jimin whined.

“Fine! You can stay here but on the ground. You haven’t had a bath yet so you’re not coming on my bed.” You glared and went downstairs to grab the blanket that Jimin used.

“Here.” You laid it over him and slipped into your own bed.

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You said, a smile on your face as you turned to lights off. You haven’t really wished anyone goodnight in a while and it made your heart grow warm again, you didn’t think Jimin would melt the loneliness.

That night...

“No...” Jimin’s head perked up as he heard you. Standing up, he headed over to your side, seeing you toss and turn. You had a frown on your face and cold sweat covered your forehead as you whimpered. Jimin changed back into a human, covering his naked body with the blanket before he cupped your cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb.

“You’re okay, (y/n). I’m right here.” He whispered with a soft smile.

“Please don’t... leave.” You cried.

“I’m never leaving you. I’ll always be here for you.” He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You slowly calmed down, the frown disappearing from your face.

Satisfied, Jimin turned back into a wolf. But this time, instead of going back to the rug, he curled up on the ground by your side of the bed.

[Dream]

“(y/n)... Wake up.” A voice spoke. You opened your eyes and looked around. How did you get into the middle of the forest? The last thing you remembered was your nightmare, it was dark and lonely.

“(y/n).” The same voice called and you turned around to see a boy standing there. He was so good looking, almost like an angel. As you faced him, a smile grew on his face, his eyes turning into crescent moons. You blinked in confusion as he waved at you to come over.

“Who are you?” You tilted your head.

“Come on, you know me. Think about it.” He held your hands in his, his light laugh filling your ears.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognise you.” You admitted in embarrassment.

“Ah... I guess that’s okay. We’ll meet soon.” He tugged you towards him so he could hug you tightly. He pressed his face into your shoulder and you couldn’t help but melt at his warmth.

It felt so different from your nightmare. That felt cold and dark. But with this mysterious boy, it was warm and bright. He pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead that you swore felt real. Almost like lips were really touching your forehead. He pulled away with a big, bright smile. Waving, he ran off into the forest while you just stared blankly.

“Oh, (y/n)!” He called, breaking your stare at you looked at him.

“No more boiled chicken please! It’s too bland!” He laughed and realisation hit you hard as he said that.

“J-Jimin?” You finally blurted out.

“Hey! Wait! Jimin, don’t go!” You reached out to him but he disappeared behind the trees, leaving you to stand there alone. Was that boy really Jimin? That was nonsense, how could you dream of a wolf as a person?

You stirred awake when you felt something wet on your cheek. Your eyes shot open and you recoiled in shock, only to see a curious Jimin sitting there, staring at you with his head tilted.

“You scared the hell outta me!” You put a hand on your cheek. He let out a low howl and nodded over to your nightstand.

“Oh damn! I forgot to set my alarm! Thanks, Jimin!” You rushed out of bed. Luckily Jimin woke you up only 5 minutes after your supposed alarm time so you weren’t that late. You brushed your teeth and took a shower, changing into your school uniform.

“Jimin! Breakfast!” You called and he trotted into the living room. As you set the plate down, you remembered what human Jimin said in your dream.

“No more boiled chicken please! It’s too bland!”

“Hmm...” You looked down at Jimin who just blinked back at you.

“Nothing, go ahead. I’m just insane, as usual.” You scoffed and dug into your own eggs. Jimin inwardly sighed at the chicken but ate anyway. Being a wolf meant his appetite was huge. He was always hungry.

“I’ll drop by the grocery store to get more meats for you, okay? But let me warn you, don’t expect Korean beef cause I’m not spending that much.” You folded your arms and Jimin grunted at that. You cleared up the kitchen as you ate. Jimin frowned in disapproval at that but he knew you were pressed for time and didn’t have time to properly clean.

“I have to go!” You grabbed your bag and slipped your shoes on. Jimin sat in front of you patiently.

“You can go back to sleep, Jimin.” You stroked his head. Jimin just sat there stubbornly. You shook your head with a smile and stood up, beginning the walk to the bus stop. Jimin stayed by your side until the main road.

“People may see you.” You smiled down at him.

“Like I care.” Jimin rolled his eyes but still stood by the edge of the forest to watch you. You watched him as you waited for the bus.

When it finally pulled up, you gave him a small wave and he smiled, his tongue hanging out of his house. Once your bus disappeared out of sight, Jimin turned to head back into the forest. But instead of heading towards the forest, he went to the lake that you were supposed to go with him to tomorrow.

“Please.” Jimin stepped closer to the water and drew a symbol into the surface, causing a rippling effect.

“Thank God.” He let out a shaky sigh of relief as he saw the image 7 lit crystals appear. That meant his brothers were still alive, he could still find them.

Being the head pack of their region, they had almost the status of princes. They each had their own coloured crystal that could appear in water if their pack symbol was drawn.

Each symbol represented a member of the head pack. If one member died, they crystal’s light would die down as well.

“I hope we find each other soon.” He said to his pack’s broken mind link and walked away from the lake, going back to the house. He entered through the side door that you now left unlocked for him to come in and out of.

“Time to stretch.” He turned back into his human form. Even if he was alone, he wasn’t going to walk around naked so he wrapped a towel around his waist as he lounged inside the house. He felt like he could relax a little, knowing that his family was still out there. But for some reason, he didn’t want to leave you to find them. The thought of you coming back to the empty house again hurt him.

You grabbed a cart and pushed it through the supermarket. You had your usual music playing in your ears and people were looking at you, a girl in high school uniform, grocery shopping at close to 10pm.

“What choice do I have? I had to work.” You mentally sighed as you grabbed rice and placed it in your cart. Then you went to the meat counter.

“Girl, there’s a sale on beef since it’s the end of the day.” The butcher told you.

“But let me warn you, don’t expect Korean beef cause I’m not spending that much.”

You smiled as you remembered what you told Jimin this morning. Maybe you should surprise him and treat yourself. You got the beef, some pork and chicken to store in the freezer. After that, you went to get some vegetables. Do wolves eat vegetables...?

“He’ll just learn to eat vegetables then.” You shrugged and placed an assortment in the cart, as well as some fruit. Once that was done, you paid and began to make your way home.

“Jimin!” You called as you dragged the bags of groceries through the door. Jimin trotted over, staring as you fell down from the weight.

“Sorry I’m late. Let’s have dinner.” You began to keep everything. Jimin poked his head into the plastic bags curiously, sniffing around to see what you bought for him.

“What did you buy?!”

“Hey, no snooping.” You lightly hit his muzzle. He snorted.

“Go on. I’ll make dinner now.” You said and began to prepare dinner. Heating up the pan, you dropped the steaks into it to sear it. You seasoned yours while leaving Jimin’s plain. From the living room, Jimin was smelling the amazing scent of meat being seared that he had a strong urge to just turn back into a human and eat it.

“Dinner!” You called and he dashed over, sliding and knocking into your legs. You chuckled and took the plate with his food, putting it down.

“It’s beef! No more disgusting chicken!” Jimin smiled in excitement, barking and jumping up and down. He happily dug in while you slurped your ice noodles with sliced beef on the side.

“Enjoy it, babe.” You patted his back with a chortle. You made some lettuce wraps for yourself.

“Want?” You casually held out a piece of lettuce to him. Jimin leaned forward to sniff a little when you grabbed a piece of beef off his plate. He growled.

“Calm down! Geez, I just wanted to make a wrap.” You scoffed and wrapped the piece of beef in the lettuce, holding it out to him for him to eat. He sniffed it again and opened his mouth. You laughed and pushed it into his mouth. Chewing, Jimin opened his mouth again.

“Huh... A wolf does eat vegetables.” You made another one for him to eat.

After dinner, you showered and settled on the couch with a cut apple. Jimin sat next to you, his tail swaying for side to side as he waited for you to feed him. You focused on your drama, taking one bite and holding it out to Jimin.

“Pay attention to me!” Jimin rolled his eyes. He leaned down to nibble to half bitten apple slice from your hand.

“Look, Jimin!” You patted on him, pointing to the screen with a puppy.

“Do you seriously think that pup is cute?! You seriously have not seen cute.” He shot you a flat look but of course, you didn’t notice as you were busy cooing at the puppy on the television screen.

He sighed and laid down, putting his head on your thigh. He whined cutely and you looked down at him.

“What?” You run your fingers through his fur. He stared back up at you as you turned back to the television. Jimin rolled down so you were rubbing his belly instead. His hind leg kicked in satisfaction, letting out sounds of happiness as his tongue rolled out the side of his mouth. You couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your lips.

“You’re a puppy too, aren’t you.” You teased.

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thevikingwoman · 3 years

Note

7. Whoops, That Ring of Flowers and Mushrooms was a Portal for whoever you like?

alright, so I had a lot of fun with this, but it got a little bit out of hand. So it did take a little while. For @dadrunkwriting

Fandom: Dragon Age | Words: 3708 | Read on AO3

Iwyn Lavellan x Solas | post-Crestwood | fairytale? romance? humor? Rating: Teen. Swearing, magic, love, canon-divergent, dread wolf reveal

The Mushroom Circle

“Look, there’s a fairy ring. My brother used to –”

Before Iwyn can ask what a fairy ring is, the greens of the Emerald Graves swirls around her, and her body feels like it’s being thrown into the air. Cassandra’s voice fades behind her and she bumps into Solas. He was walking right behind her, but now they’re jostling around, like ships on a wild sea, except there is no up or down, only darkness. She tries to hold on to Solas, but there is nothing.

She lands with thud, but it doesn’t hurt. She feels soft grass, and it smells a little like sugar. Iwyn opens her eyes, and above her the sky is blue, a canopy of golden-leaved trees swaying gently in the sweet breeze. It does not look like the Emerald Graves. She scrambles to her feet, looking for any danger.

“Awake, awake! Welcome to my realm!”

The cheerful voice is behind her, and it belongs to a tall person with medium brown skin and long dark hair in tight curls. She’s clad in what appears to be leaves, and is hovering just above the ground. Not by magic, but by fast-moving, almost translucent wings. They look like dragon fly wings, except she has twelve of them, and they shimmer in the sunlight.

“Who are you? What are you?”

Iwyn reaches for her bow and an arrow.

“Don’t bother! You’re caught in my ring, and you can’t hurt me. You’re stuck.”

Iwyn looks down, and notices a ring of mushrooms around her. More alarming, she sees a very large black wolf sleeping behind her. Its tail is twitching, but it appears fast asleep. Iwyn decides the winged being is the bigger threat. She steps towards her, and smacks against an invisible barrier right above the mushrooms.

“What?”

“I told you. You’re stuck until I say you’re not. You and your companion. He’s boring though, all asleep.”

“My companion?”

She folds her wings back and lands as she shrugs.

“Sometimes my magic makes other people’s magic freak out. It made him take his other form.”

“Solas?”

“That’s his name? What’s yours?”

“I’m in the fade.” Iwyn concludes. They must have stumbled into a rift, maybe even the one they were looking for. She hopes Cassandra and Varric are alright. “It didn’t look like this the last time.”

“Not the fade! Bah! The fade boring. All full of rocks and seas you can’t drink.”

Iwyn nods. That is true enough, though you can’t really drink any sea. Can you? She’s on uneven footing, and has no clue what’s going on, and apparently Solas can shapeshift. Or maybe her imagination is running away with her. Time for change in strategy.

“I’m Iwyn. Who are you?”

“Ahh finally! Nice to meet you Iwyn. I’m Lharissah, and this is the domain of Fairies.”

“Hello Lharissah.”

Lharissah bows, and flutters her wings.

“Iwyn, you and your companion are trapped in my ring and in our realm until I send you back.” She grins. “It’s all very exciting.”

Iwyn arches and eyebrow and waits.

“You do want to go back, right?”

“I have to go back.” Iwyn flexes her hand, the anchor humming under her skin. She can’t see it, though, which is weird.

“Ahh yeah, that bit was weird. I made it sleep.”

Iwyn stares at her hand.

“Now, to go back you have to complete – three difficult tasks for me! They’re very important.”

“You know most people just ask without trapping anyone.”

“Trapping is traditional.”

“What do I have to do?”

She wishes Solas would wake up, or that she knew if it was really him. She kneels down and brushes her hand over the soft, dark fur.

“Don’t bother. He’ll sleep for awhile. So much trapped power, I had to.”

Iwyn frowns.

“Your worried!” Lharissah claps her hands excitedly and her wings buzz. “He’s your lover, isn’t he?”

“No. Yes. I mean – it’s complicated.”

“Seems like you should uncomplicate it. But anyway. We can do that later. For now, you have an important task. I need you to fetch something that’s very dear to me.”

“Of course you do.”

“Good.” More excited fluttering. Iwyn is surprised she doesn’t take off into the sky. “I need you to climb a mountain, and bring back a unicorn feather. I promise I’ll wake him then.”

“A feather? Not a goat or a druffalo or whatever a unicorn is?”

“Oh, you can’t bring me a unicorn. You’re… not qualified.”

“I see.”

The whole thing is very bizarre. Hopefully she can get it over with, get Solas turned back into an elf, and go home. There’s still a chance this is a dream, but for now it seems easier to just go along with it.

“The feather is shiny, with a full rainbow of colors, and very, very pretty. I really need it.”

“Where do I go?”

Lharissah points to a mountain some ways off. It raises itself above the canopy like a shiny tower of rock. Iwyn sighs.

“It’s closer than it looks, don’t worry. The unicorns make their nests there. Go, go now, and come straight back.”

Iwyn steps carefully out of the mushroom circle. Nothing attacks her, nothing feels different. Lharissah makes shooing motions with her hands. Iwyn looks at the wolf – Solas – one last time, and takes off.

In the end, the unicorn feather isn’t hard to find. The fairy was right – the mountains are closer than they look, and once she is there, a bit of stealth helps Iwyn grab a big, shiny feather. It’s multicolored and shimmering in the light, changing through all the colors of the rainbow depending on how she tilts it. She considers picking up a few more, but decides against it. She was told to get one, and somehow it seems important to follow the request to the letter. Iwyn only catches a glimpse of the unicorns themselves – big horselike creatures, nimble as mountain goats and feathers in place of manes and tails. Their nests are littered with the bones of small creatures. It’s probably better to leave them alone.

When she’s back, the wolf is awake, and pacing the perimeter of the circle. Its eyes are a piercing blue, and it sits abruptly on its haunches when it sees her.

“Solas?”

There’s a weird sensation at the base of her skull, almost a tingling. The wolf growls.

“He’s fine. I’ll turn him back, but you got to be inside too,” Lharissah says. “Go, go in!”

She does. The wolfs runs towards her, and then stops. Tries to make itself smaller, but it’s the biggest wolf she’s ever seen, and it makes her laugh a little. Maybe he’d expected her to be afraid, but now she’s certain it’s Solas.

She pets it, and it glares at her.

“Good, good,” the fairy says. “Now, do you have the feather?”

Iwyn draws it from her vest, and hands it across the barrier.

“I accept this token as fulfillment of the first task,” Lharissah says, more solemn than before. She strokes it. “Soooo pretty.”

She takes off, circling them, and there’s some glittering dust in the air. Magic shimmers around the wolf, Solas, and then he’s an elf. He’s sitting on his ass in the grass.

“You’re a shapeshifter?” she asks, and offers a hand to help him up. He accepts. She still doesn’t understand why he didn’t tell her before. It’s an uncommon magic, but not unheard of.

“It is a long story.”

Lharissah giggles.

“This is all very charming and all, but we’re on to our next task. You want to go home, right?”

“Why don’t you stop the games and let us go. It would be better for all of us,” Solas says. He’s projecting an air of power and command, reminding Iwyn of the few times she’s seen him truly angry.

“Nuh uh. That’s not how it works.”

“Let us out.” Solas voice is steel, angry and low. He blasts the barrier, eyes almost glowing in the low light.

Lharissah just giggles. Again.

“So much passion,” she says. “I can see why you desire him. If it’s over, though, can I have him?”

“He’s mine,” Iwyn growls, fed up with all of it.

Lharissah laughs loudly this time. “Complicated indeed. I think it’s simple. Sorry, wolf, I can’t let the barrier down. You haven’t completed all the tasks.”

“What do I need to do next,” Iwyn says, resigned.

“I need your names.”

“I’m Iwyn Lavellan.” A strange request.

“All of them, all your names. What they call you, Harold? Something?”

Ah.

“Herald of Andraste. Inquisitor.” Iwyn considers. “Hunter of Clan Lavellan.”

That should be it.

“Great! Perfect. Ahem. I accept your truly named self, Iwyn Lavellan, Hunter of Clan Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor.”

Lharissah bows slightly, and Iwyn nods back.

“The next task?”

“No, his names first.”

“My name is Solas.”

Lharissah arches an eyebrow. Solas sighs.

“My parents called me Ena’Solas.”

Our pride. He grinds it out, as if it’s some big secret.

“Very good,” Lharissah says. “But not all.”

“I cannot give you more,” Solas says.

Lharissah shrugs. It looks slightly odd, wings and all.

“Then you’re stuck.”

“Varric calls him Chuckles,” Iwyn adds.

Lharissah nods. “I’ll accept that, but I there’s more. So many years, so many names.”

“Enough!” Solas magic flares, and it slams against the barrier. “This is preposterous!”

Iwyn places a hand on his arm, drawing his attention away from the laughing fairy. “Solas. Just tell her. I will be alright.”

Solas looks at her, for the first time really, since he transformed. His eyes shine with untold stories. He shakes his head.

“Ir arbelas.”

He turns his attention to Lharissah.

“Very well. I am Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf, He Who Hunts Alone, Lord of Tricksters, The Great Wolf, Roamer of the Beyond, Bringer of Nightmares, The Old Wolf.”

Iwyn steps away from Solas, trying to process. Her whole body feels foreign, weightless, heavy.

“Are you satisfied?” Solas snarls.

Lharissah bows, solemnly. “I accept your True Names, Ena’Solas, Solas, Fen’Harel, The Dread Wolf, He Who Hunts Alone, Lord of Tricksters, The Great Wolf, Roamer of the Beyond, Bringer of Nightmares, The Old Wolf, Chuckles.”

Iwyn is stuck somewhere between is it true and how can that be and why didn’t you tell.

“What the fuck, Solas?” is what actually comes out.

“I – ” he starts, and falters. He reaches for, her and curls his hands and let them fall to his side. “I never meant to – I’m sorry.”

“You already said so. As you did two weeks ago.”

He looks at her, endless sorrow in his eyes.

“Now you understand why.”

“Oooh this is going to be good.” Lharissah says. She’s flown to a large rock at the other side of the clearing, and here she folds her legs and wings and sits down, resting her chin in her hands, her curls spilling over her shoulders.

“You! There were three tasks, right? What’s the third thing.”

This Iwyn can deal with. She can figure out about Solas later.

“Oh. I can wait a moment.”

“No,” Solas says.

Lharissah unfolds herself, shakes her head and looks down on them.

“Alright.” She sticks her chin out. “I need you to promise me your firstborn.”

“Please, please tell me this is fade, a bad dream,” Iwyn says, at the same time Solas exclaim a firm “no.”

“Please? I’ll let you go. I will find you when you get your complications sorted, and the baby is born,” the fairy says.

“Why do you want a baby?” Iwyn asks.

“Well, it’s traditional. Fairy circle, first born child.”

“Tradition is not really a good reason to have child.”

“But everyone asks for one.”

“Is that what you want?” Iwyn asks. “You don’t have to do what everyone else does.” She isn’t sure if it’s a promise that Lharissah has the power to enforce, but she’s not taking any chances. She isn’t giving up any future babies.

“Hmpf.”

Iwyn looks at Solas, who holds himself rigid and drawn back. He’s moved as far away from her as possible, and he does not look her in the eyes. She leaves him be.

Lharissah’s eyes dart between them, and then she sighs again.

“Alright. Bring me the sapphire, then.”

Before Iwyn can ask which sapphire, where and how, she’s surrounded by swirling darkness again. This time she’s isn’t thrown like a ragdoll though, just a swirling, unsteady feeling until she’s deposited in a dark space, her feet upon a sandy floor. She stumbles, and her fingers hit a roughhewn wall. Reaching out, there’s a wall on the other side of her too. She takes a steadying breath.

There’s a whisper of magic and veilfire springs to life in front of her. Solas holds a small flame in his hard, illuminating what appears to be a narrow stone passage, a cave or tunnel.

“Solas?”

“We appear to be somewhere underground. I suggest we pick a direction and attempt to find an exit. I have marked this wall with a rune in case we circle back.”

“Solas.”

“I see no differences in either direction.”

Solas turns, and walks away for her. Iwyn reaches for him, a hand on his arm. He recoils, and keeps walking. Her hand falls to her side.

“You owe me an explanation. Is it all true?”

“Yes.”

The walk in silence. The air smells stale and dry. The passage looks untouched, no footprints or – Iwyn leaps and pushes Solas aside and down. They land on the floor together, as a dull noise rings in the corridor.

“Trap,” Iwyn says, and points to the bolt embedded in the wall above them.

“Thank you.”

Solas is rigid beneath her, but warm and solid. They’re tangled together, her hand against his chest and her thighs across his hips. He tries to move, but she doesn’t.

“Iwyn. We need to find a way out, or this sapphire if we can.”

“What I need is for you to tell me the truth. Was everything you told me a lie? Some part of a scheme?” She pushes against his chest with both hands.

“Not everything,” he says, and he sounds infinitely sad.

She’s a fool and wants to kiss him.

“I will tell as best I can,” he says. “May I get up?”

She nods, and scrambles off him.

They move along the corridor again. Iwyn goes first now, looking for any traps, and Solas does talk. About years and magic and past wars, about mages and god-kings and endless corruption. About the veil and the orb and Corypheus. Meanwhile the corridor has split a number of times, and they’ve passed a couple of side passages. Solas suggested they draw a map, so ever so often they stop and sketch.

“Every time we move closer to here,” she points on the map, “we encounter more traps. I think that’s the right direction.”

“The place is designed as test or a trial. I have not met a being like Lharissah before, but I have heard rumors from spirits who can cross the realms. I believe we have to complete her task.”

“This way, then.” Iwyn starts down a corridor to their left, and marks it on their map. “Why did you not tell me before?”

“That this is a trial?”

She grins, despite herself. “No, the whole Fen’harel thing. The orb.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t know how. I was afraid that you would despise me. That you would not – that you would not understand.”

“And now?”

“Now I have no choice.”

“I see.”

He stops. “That was not how I intended to say it. My hand may have been forced, but I hope that – that you will forgive me. That you will not… not…”

“Hate you?”

“Yes.”

He sounds miserable. Part of her wants him to be. He’s brought this on himself, and misery is a well deserved consequence. Another part of her wants to comfort him, to reassure him they can work through this no matter what. His secrets are so big and unfathomable, it is only natural he’s been reluctant to share. That part of her wins.

“I don’t hate you, Solas.”

She takes his hand. Maybe it’s selfishness or wishful thinking. She still loves him. Maybe it’s foolishness.

“Thank you.” He exhales. “Iwyn, – ”

“But I don’t know what happens next, Solas. You want the orb, and what happens when you get it? How much power will you have?” She’s stopped, holding on to his hand like it’s some kind of lifeline, like it will convince her he is real and there and alive, and not some far off power her mother swears at. “How much, and what will you do with it? What will happen if you take down the veil? I love you, Solas, but I’m not sure what that means anymore.”

“Vhenan, Iwyn. This is why I had to let you go. I cannot expect you to – “

“To what, Solas? To love you? To help you? What?”

She starts down the corridor again, pulling him along with him. He hasn’t yet told her what his goal is, not truly. Solas stops, and the veilfire flame with him.

“My people are sleeping, waiting, stuck as long as the veil is here. I doomed them, and I have to undo it. The return of my world would spell the doom of yours. Ir abelas.”

She breathes, in and out, for ten heartbeats.

“There’s a dart trap here.” She’s been staring ahead in the half-light. “Do you want me to try and disable it, or just throw up a barrier?”

“Barrier.”

Solas casts, his bright blue light filling the corridor. They rush through and the darts slam useless against his barrier. Iwyn continues, releasing another trap which opens the floor in front of them. Solas constructs a thin bridge of force, and they scamper across. Finally, they corridor opens up to a large, dark room, Solas’ veilfire a tiny glow that can’t illuminate all of it.

In the middle of the room, a single beam of light hits a giant sapphire resting on a pillar. It’s almost comically dramatic, much like the shimmering unicorn feathers. The traps have been very real, though. Iwyn stops Solas with a hand on his chest.

“You did not tell me, because you know I have to stop you. To fight you.”

Solas says nothing.

“You believed it easier to walk away. To give up on what we had.”

“No. Being with you – I was afraid I’d abandon my plan, neglect my people. I thought for a moment…” Solas closes his eyes and shakes his head. “It hardly matters now. I understand you will try to stop me, and I cannot let you.”

“That’s bullshit, Solas. You didn’t give me chance to make that decision.” She yanks him close, and kisses him on his lips, hard and searing. “We’ll get out of here, and then we’ll find some other way.”

She turns and focuses on the floor, the pedestal, and all the possible traps. They really can’t do anything while stuck here, and she is not ready to give up on them. Solving impossible problems and saving Thedas is what she does now, apparently, so she’ll figure this out too.

First, Lharissah needs her sparkly gem.

Solas is only frozen momentarily, and then he lights the veilfire torches circling the room. With the magic, it’s clear there’s a puzzle to solve in the floor while they make their way to the middle. It takes them about fifteen minutes to figure out the pattern, and they make it safely to the pedestal. She can’t see any traps, and Solas can’t detect any magic. Carefully, she removes the gem.

The room plunges into darkness.

“Run!”

Solas grabs her hand, and she can hear something hissing, sliding, moving. Sand is pouring into the room, and she runs with Solas, out the room and down a corridor, the floor moving, the whole labyrinth shaking. They turn down a passage on the right, and Iwyn manages to pull Solas back when pit opens on front of them. There’s no time to backtrack, and they both make the jump. The floor jostles, and they lurch forward, and run again, turning away from the ever present hiss of sand filling the corridors.

“We have to get out. Hold on.”

Solas’ magic envelops her, and they’re flung sideways, upwards. She holds on to him and the sapphire. They tumble out on soft grass, dotted with sweet-scented flowers. Above them, a moon hangs between the stars.

Iwyn laughs, and rolls on top of Solas and kisses him. He kisses her back enthusiastically, opening his mouth with a sigh.

Somewhere, there’s a flutter, and then clapping.

“Sure you’re not reconsidering the firstborn?”

Iwyn rolls off Solas and they both get up, neither of them bothering to answer.

“Here’s your gem, Lharissah.”

Iwyn toss it, and she catches it, her face grinning. It isa rather pretty gem.

“Wonderful. Beautiful. I knew you could figure it out.” She holds it up, and let the moonlight sparkle through it. “I suppose I must accept this token as the completion of your third task.”

“Now I believe you must follow through with your part of the bargain,” Solas says. “Send us back.”

“You could stay here, just so you know. Build a cabin, live your lives, sort out your complications… No one will bother you here.”

Iwyn knows it’s true. This place seems far away from Thedas, not the fade, but not quite real either. There are no rifts, no anchor, no Corypheus here. Whatever Solas is, whatever is part of his past, it doesn’t matter here. For a moment she considers it.

“No. We need to go back. Too many people depend on me.”

Lharissah shrugs, golden dust shimmering in the air.

“As you wish.”

Iwyn takes Solas hand, and they are thrown into the void again, swirling, moving, and spat out on the dark grass of the Emerald Graves. It’s night, and they’re inside the mushroom circle where they started. There’s two tends pitched nearby, and Varric and Cassandra are arguing.

Everything is as before. Solas squeezes her hand.

Everything has changed.

She kisses him, briefly. They’ll work it out.

#solavellan #solas x lavellan #solavellan fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #iwyn x solas #listen I don't usually let prompts get out of hand #but this was a lot of fun dialogue #I hope the its fun at least!#viking writes #published 10/22/2021

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maatryoshkaa · 4 years

Text

young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other.

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days.

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin.

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace.

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time, and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now.

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest.

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh.

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word.

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you.

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on.

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse.

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said. And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?”

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this?

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face—

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—”

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.”

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks.

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands.

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had.

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?”

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have.

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you.

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go.

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now.

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

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write-ur-wrongs · 4 years

Text

Of Monsters and Men (pt. 1)

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier travel to a small seaside village after being hired to take care of a monster that has been terrorizing the villagers for months. However when they arrive, Geralt finds that the monster in question isn’t so easy to kill.

A/N: This was getting to be quite lengthy, so I decided to split it into parts. This is the story I wanted to write when I first started watching the Witcher on Netflix and I am nervous and excited to finally be sharing it here!! Like with all my fics, I try to keep my Y/N has physically non-descript as possible, she/her and vibe are the only descriptors. I’ve also not proof-read but will edit errors as I see them post post lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!! Your feedback is always welcome :’)

this is approx. 2200 words and is largely setting the scene. I expect this to story to be told in no more than 3 parts.

_________________________

When Geralt and Jaskier rode up to the quiet coastal village, they were struck by how calm and peaceful it was. The sound of waves lapping against the rocky shoreline, the rhythmic bumping of boats against the docks, and the soft clatter of driftwood windchimes melted together to create an atmosphere that soothed Jaskier to his core. He found himself gaping at the sights that surrounded him in wonder; truly taken by the way setting sun cast a golden glow on everything and painted the cloud-laced sky in rich hues of pink and orange.

“This place…” he sighed theatrically, waving his arms around, “is wonderful! Geralt are you not moved by the sight of it all? Does your soul not sing out! Oh, Geralt! Wow!”

The witcher only rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. Jaskier was always so blown away by the simplest things and it both amused and annoyed Geralt. Yes, the sky and the sea were beautiful sights, but more importantly, they were merciless vehicles of danger, death, and destruction; and Geralt knew better than to romanticize things that were, at their core, dangerous.

Sensing the bard’s eyes on him, Geralt gave him a hum of acknowledgement hoping it would be enough to satisfy Jaskier’s need for collective appreciation. It was, as he dreaded, insufficient.

“Come now, Geralt!” he enthused, “take that stick out your arse for a moment and appreciate the sights and sounds of this charming inlet! Listen to the sea! The chimes, Geralt! Listen to how the wind tickles the –”

“For fucks sake, Jaskier! It’s a fucking port city just like any other. This place is one bad storm away from being wiped out by that scenic sea of yours!”

“Yeesh,” Jaskier said letting out a low whistle. “Was it the stick in the arse bit? Too far?”

“Jask-”

“- because look, you are very stoic but – and I mean this as a compliment Geralt, so don’t get your leather in a –”

“Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted gruffly as he dismounted Roach with a huff. “Will you please shut up! Let’s just find the stables and the inn and get this over with.” Without waiting for Jaskier to catch up to him, he led his mare deeper into town.

Jaskier, refusing to let Geralt’s gruff exterior get him down, dismounted gracefully and lightly jogged to meet up with him, his lute clacking loudly against his back as he ran.

“Remind me again what dreadful little creature brings us out to this enchanting harbor?” he asked, still jogging a little to keep up with the witcher’s long strides.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Oh, ho-ho! A mystery? Always makes for a good song. What do we know so far?”

Geralt stopped and turned slightly towards the bard before speaking.

“Apparently a creature has been killing and dismembering men in town. They are being killed at all hours, bodies found in town, at sea, or out in the surrounding forests. Seems nowhere is safe.” Geralt let his cat-like eyes linger on the bard’s horrified expression for a moment before turning back and keeping on the path into town, shaking his head at Jaskier’s queasiness.

“Yeesh – Geralt! You’re not serious! Why would you bring me with you!?” Jaskier picked up the pace, suddenly wanting to be closer to his friend.

“You invited yourself,” Geralt said, trying to contain his smile, “as always.”

“Of course, I invited myself! You’re far to proud to admit you’d miss me.” Jaskier retorted. “Let’s get these horses to the stables, get rooms, and find food so that you can sort this out as quickly as inhumanly possible,” he said, speaking quickly and with a light waver, trying to pretend the quaint seaside village around him didn’t now leave him chilled to the bone.

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckled, happy to have managed to scare the bard into silence, at least for the time being.

The local pub was busier than Jaskier had expected when they rode into town. Seems the reason the village was so peaceful upon arrival was because everyone had already made their way to the bar. Fortunately, he’d managed to nab them a table by the stone fireplace; after a day of riding alongside the sea, Jaskier was desperate for a cold ale and a warm fire.

“Alrighty then, Geralt,” Jaskier said, holding his hands up to the hearth, “what have we got so far?”

“Not much,” he replied, tearing apart the loaf of bread a barmaid had brought over moments prior, “a couple people stopped me at the inn to ask me if I was here to kill the beast, but they didn’t have any information to offer besides the fact that it was a constant threat.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have more luck here – I mean look around, you’d think the whole town’s come to drink!”

“Port cities, Jask,” Geralt said, letting his gaze scan the room slowly, “the people here either spend their days at the mercy of the sea or waiting for their loved ones to come home. You drink for sorrow and for hope of a bright tomorrow.”

“That was poetic as fuck, Geralt! My influence?” he teased, shooting the witcher a cheeky grin, who merely grunted distractedly in reply.

Now ignoring his still-talking friend, Geralt’s eyes had landed on the two women working behind the bar. One was talking excitedly and kept casting quick glances toward the bard, blushing brightly when she caught his eye, while the other was watching Geralt with inquisitive eyes.

“… I tell you Geralt the more you allow yourself to – oh! Speaking of which, here come a few now!” Jaskier flourished, winking enthusiastically at the blushing barmaid who was making her way towards them sheepishly.

Geralt sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes, already tired of the flirting he was about to witness. To his surprise and great pleasure, Jaskier got up and met her halfway, leaving him in peace with his thoughts.

Having brought his attention back down to the bread before him, Geralt didn’t notice that he had company until she was right in front of him. Sensing her presence, he shot his gaze up quickly, and found her staring at his wolf medallion with a quirked brow.

“Forgive me,” she started, her deep, velvet-like voice washing over Geralt like morning sun after a cold night, “but you’re… a witcher?”

“I am,” he replied, giving her a crooked smile, his own voice, low and gravely and smooth, not going unnoticed by the woman before him. “Geralt, of Rivia.”

“Oh fuck,” she said, with a breathy sort of laugh, “so you’re not a witcher, you’re the Witcher then, aren’t you?”

Geralt let out a low and modest grunt, shaking his head at the comment. He thought himself immune to the scrutiny and awe that came with being the White Wolf, having carried the title for so long, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that left him shy.

“I’m,” he faltered needing to stop to clear his throat, having made the mistake to look her in the eyes, “just a witcher. Really.”

“Well, they don’t send you out for just anything, do they? For you to be out here in our little hamlet…” she squinted at him with a small tilt of her head, “we must be under some kind of threat. Should I be worried?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me, –” he stopped, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Y/N,” she replied quickly, offering Geralt a warm smile despite the fact that she’d just crossed her arms, “and I mean we do get the odd ruffian coming through town. They always make a mess of things, don’t they? Beyond that, well, I suppose alcohol does breed violence in some,” she gave a light, one shouldered shrug, “but that’s not the kind of crime that would reach your ears.”

Geralt hummed thoughtfully, taking his time to consider Y/N’s words. She seemed almost too friendly, and there was something about her that both drew him in and had him putting up his guard.

“A monster has been picking the men of the village off one by one.” Leaning back into his chair to put some distance between them. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t be aware, considering,” he nodded towards the bar, “your job here.”

“Meaning what?” she retorted, wearing a playful smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Only that you must hear a lot,” he gestured vaguely to the crowd surrounding them, “and see a lot, doing what you do. I would have expected that the disappearance and dismemberment of men in town would be something of note.”

“Well,” Y’N tsked, “I’m sorry to say that you’ve been brought out here on something of a fool’s errand. There’s no monster here; the tale of disappearing men has been told here for months. It started with a woman, too embarrassed to admit that the man who impregnated her left her overnight, telling everyone that a creature from the forest killed him. From there the story grew wilder with every retelling.”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed, watching Y/N carefully with narrow eyes, “I was told dismembered body parts were turning up, consistently, after each disappearance, and that they were being identified as belonging to the latest victim. Besides, I was hired to come here. Why would someone pay me coin to rid a town of ghost?”

“People struck by tragedy will claim to see many things, Sir Geralt,” she replied softly, “not all of them will be true. A dead fish floating at sea, a creature mauled by wolves by the roads, rotten meats abandoned by vendors…” she shrugged, “the mind will twist the truth in order to bring comfort. Who hired you?”

She added that last question quickly, and Geralt could tell it was calculated. Sensing this, he only replied with a quirked brow and a tilt of his head.

Y/N betrayed no sense of frustration when she realized the Witcher wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead, her eyes softened, and she smiled at Geralt with what he perceived as pity.

“Look, the truth is that there is no monster here. Isn’t that right Thalia?”

“Sorry, what?” Thalia, who had just walked back over the Geralt’s table with a tray of ales in her hands, was breathlessly giggling at something Jaskier had whispered in her ear. As she and Jaskier placed four ales on the table, Y/N took a seat across from the Witcher and quickly explained got the two up to speed.

“Oh goodness, that! I can not believe our town’s little lore made it to your ears, Sir Geralt!” She said with wide eyes as she snuggled up next to Jaskier, clinking her tankard with his before taking a generous sip.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jaskier coughed on his ale, “you’re telling me there’s no monster here? That we might actually be able to enjoy a little rest and relaxation here without any horrible monster-killing business? Geralt this is good news!” he exclaimed, smacking his free hand on the table for emphasis.

Geralt only growled out a hum in response, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

“I’ll admit,” Thalia continued, seemingly unaware of the tension between the Witcher and her friend, “it’s scary to think about – you know, murder – but when you actually think about who disappears, it’s not difficult to see the truth.”

At this, Geralt turned his fierce gaze away from Y/N. “What do you mean, ‘who disappears’?”

“O-only that the men who leave aren’t really the type that anyone would miss.” She replied, stuttering a little against her best efforts to not recoil at Geralt’s inhuman eye-contact. “They were mean, violent types. The kind of man that would get crueler the more he drank. Just, awful, evil men, right Y/N?”

Y/N nodded quickly in agreement, taking a slow sip of her ale. “Good riddance.”

“Exactly!” Thalia agreed, clinking her glass to Y/N’s.

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Jaskier laughed, before picking his lute up off the floor. “What do you say ladies, a song?”

Thalia cheered loudly and encouraged the rest of the patrons to listen to the bard, letting them all know that he was in fact, the one who traveled with the great White Wolf. Jaskier was positively floating from the adoration as he danced around the pub, pulling cheers and applause after every song.

All the while, Geralt never took his eyes off of Y/N, who had retreated back to the bar after finishing her drink.

Geralt wasn’t sure what to believe. He had a strange feeling about this place from the moment he and the bard arrived, and it frustrated him to no end that even after hours in town, he was no closer to understanding the source of his discomfort. One thing was for certain, something about the story he heard here tonight did not add up, and he definitely didn’t trust its source.

Y/N was standing behind the bar washing glasses, but she wasn’t focused on the task at hand. Instead, her eyes were trained on the crowd before her. Geralt watched her as she scanned the pub with calm, slow-moving eyes that jumped from patron to patron.

The witcher was distracted for a moment when Jaskier sauntered into his sightline, singing a loud chorus of Toss a Coin to Your Witcher. Despite himself, Geralt couldn’t help but smile at the bard, whose face was flushed from the ales and the exertion.

However, as Geralt watched Jaskier twirl across the crowded pub, something in his peripheral vision made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Y/N had turned he head and was staring right at him with a pair of pitch-black eyes.

Like a shot, Geralt turned his gaze to the woman behind the bar – his heart beating loudly in his ears – only to find her smiling warmly at him, her eyes their normal shade.

Instinctively, Geralt brought his hand up to his wolf-head medallion, hoping it would signal the presence of some supernatural evil. But he felt nothing.

He didn’t know what she was, but she was not human.

#the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x reader #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher series #geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher x reader #toss a coin to your witcher #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x reader #Jaskier

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

What About Trust, Chapter 9

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal. RATING: M

Cleo wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous. She had never felt nervous about being around Loki at all before, so why now?

She paced back and fore in her flat again, making sure it was clean and tidy enough for a guest. But she also didn’t want him to think she always lived like this, so didn’t go completely nuts with putting away her books and vinyl’s, most of them were spilled out onto the floor around her record player in the corner of her living room.

‘God, I hope Luke doesn’t think less of me when he sees this place.’ She muttered to herself and nibbled on her nails.

His apartment had really surprised her with how large it was, it was stunning. She was obsessed with his den though. But in comparison, her flat was… small and boring. Though she loved it, or she thought she did until she saw Loki’s place.

But she was also thinking about the kisses they’d shared those three days ago… The development in their relationship just from that morning. If it could even be called a relationship? She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t seen him since then as she had been working, but she had tomorrow off so thought it was a good idea to invite him over for dinner so she could cook this time.

Now she was wishing she’d asked him out somewhere instead.

The buzzer going off alerted her that it was far too late to go back on now. But when she rushed over and answered through the comms, hearing his voice instantly put her at ease and made her feel fuzzy inside.

‘Come on up.’ She said happily as she pressed the unlock button for the door.

By the time she got to her door, Loki was just coming up the stairs. He surprised her by giving her a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates.

‘Aww, you big softie.’ She grinned up at him.

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, making her heart flutter. ‘I can be soft when I want to be.’ He smirked, making her laugh.

‘Come on in.’ She stepped back and motioned him into her flat. ‘It’s uhm… Nothing special, especially compared to your place.’ She said sheepishly.

Loki shook his head. ‘Nonsense, darling. It’s perfect. So homely and cosy.’ He grinned as he looked around, loving how compact it was. It felt secure. The only reason he had a larger place by choice was to try and impress Thor, which did the trick.

While Cleo put the flowers into a vase, Loki took the time to have a nosey through her books and records. He also found a drawer that was filled with photographs from over the years, of her with family and friends. It made him smile to see.

‘Oh god, you found the dreaded drawer.’ She laughed as she brought a drink through from the kitchen for them both.

Loki grinned as he continued looking through some of them. He found some baby pictures and cooed over how adorable she was as a baby, while she just hid her face behind her hands the entire time. Then to her relief he finally joined her on the sofa. She had music playing, she’d set the record player up earlier before he arrived.

‘Who’s this playing?’ He asked curiously, rather enjoying the poppy type of music. It was annoyingly catchy he thought.

‘It’s Maroon 5. They’re one of my favourites.’ Cleo grinned. ‘Do you like them?’

Loki shrugged nonchalantly. ‘They’re alright, I suppose.’ Making her laugh.

‘I hope home-made pizza is ok for dinner. I’m not the best at cooking, but I have been told my pizzas are the bomb.’ Cleo said when the timer went off in the kitchen.

‘Sounds wonderful.’ Loki assured her, then a mischievous smile broke out. ‘I’m sure it won’t be any worse than the pizza from the takeaway in piccadilly gardens.’

‘Hey! That place is abysmal and should not be allowed to remain open.’ She growled at him as she headed through to the kitchen.

Loki chuckled. There was a place that was well known for how bad its pizzas were. How it was still even open was a complete mystery to everyone.

His eyes widened when he went through to the table to sit down and he saw the pizzas. They looked amazing, and smelled even better.

‘The tomatoes and onions are home grown.’ She said proudly as she passed Loki a plate and napkins.

‘I’m impressed. But let’s see what the taste test does.’ He teased her and cut a bit off to try.

She waited with bated breath to see if he would like it or not. His face was rather passive as he savoured the taste and evaluated it. But he went over the top, just taking his sweet time and humming now and then. Eventually he swallowed it, then made smacking noises as he continued to ‘taste’ it.

‘Now you’re just being a dick.’ Cleo grumbled at him, glaring across the table at him.

His face broke out into a large grin and he laughed. ‘I couldn’t resist… But wow, this is one of the best pizzas I’ve ever tasted, honestly. It’s delicious!’ He said and tucked straight into more.

Cleo beamed in delight as she started on hers as well.

‘I made the tomato sauce for it myself too, again with my own tomatoes.’

‘Very impressive indeed. But there is just one, little bad thing…’ He said before quickly eating a bit more. She felt her stomach drop. Oh no…

‘You are going to need to make me pizza on a daily basis now, because this is far too good for a one off.’

Cleo laughed and felt relieved that that was the only bad thing.

‘I’m not sure about daily, but I could certainly try weekly or fortnightly at least.’ She suggested.

‘Pizza date night sounds a delightful idea for a weekly occasion.’ Loki winked at her, making her blush.

‘Only if you do waffles weekly for me?’ She asked innocently and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged.’ He purred. ‘Do I take it that means I can stay the night?’ He chanced asking, wolfing the last bit of his pizza down with a moan.

‘If you want to… of course you can. I don’t think I have a spare toothbrush though…’ She trailed off when Loki reached into his suit jacked and pulled out his toothbrush, a cheeky glint in his eye as she burst out laughing.

‘Ok, you’re prepared.’

‘Always.’ He grinned, then his eyes landed on her plate. She hadn’t touched her last bit for a few minutes. ‘Are you going to finish that?’

Cleo laughed again and slid the plate towards him. ‘Be my guest.’

After dinner and a glass of wine, Cleo took Loki down to her garden plot to show him what she was growing.

‘I thought you said it was a small plot you had?’ Loki nudged her playfully with his elbow.

‘It is!’

‘It’s quite substantial in my eyes.’

It was a good size. She had two rows of carrots, a row of onions and three rows of potatoes. Along with some strawberry plants and a raspberry bush. Surrounding the paved area where the greenhouse was, she had some potted flowers and borders with some perennial shrubs in it as well as some annual flowers at the front, it was really beautiful. The vegetable plants were covered with netting to stop the birds getting them. She had a small greenhouse where her tomato plants were growing, along with a few cucumber plants as well, that were slowly starting to grow.

‘What are these?’ Loki asked as he pointed to a tray with lots of tiny seedlings just sprouting.

‘Marigolds. They’re one of my favourite flowers. I bought a window pot for outside my bedroom, the sun always hits it for most of the day. So I plan to put them into there once they’re ready.’ She said excitedly.

‘Are these lava pebbles?’ He asked as he scooped up some of the light, small, pebbles that layered the shelves in the greenhouse.

‘Yep. They hold the heat really well and some moisture, they’re perfect for when everything is in early stages of growing.’ She nodded.

‘I really wouldn’t have taken you for much of a green thumb, being honest.’ He smirked. ‘But this is all incredible. My mother would’ve loved you.’ He blurted out.

‘Did she enjoy gardening?’ Cleo asked as she leaned against the shelf, feeling warmed inside that he thought his mother would love her.

‘She did enjoy tending to her gardens.’ Loki nodded and smiled fondly as he thought about her. ‘Especially flowers… You would’ve loved our gardens we had at home.’

Cleo reached over and lightly touched his hand with the tips of his fingers. He looked down and smiled as they tangled their fingers together.

‘She sounds like she was a lovely woman. You speak really fondly of her, it’s really nice.’ Cleo said quietly.

Loki felt a little tight chested, but he focused on Cleo. ‘I… I really miss her.’ He admitted. ‘I didn’t exactly do her proud when she was alive.’

Cleo frowned and squeezed his hand. ‘She would be proud of you now. Owning your own bookshop, with an amazing apartment.’

Loki smiled at the way she was trying to make him feel better. He wished he could open up to her properly, that she knew…

He turned more towards Cleo and tucked her hair back behind her ear, then he cupped her cheek and leaned down to kiss her. Their lips moulded together slowly, tasting each other. Loki slipped his other hand around her to her lower back, he gently pressed her into him so their bodies were flush together.

When they parted, she was rather flustered and so was he. He rubbed his thumb up and down her cheek and smiled. Then she started laughing a bit.

‘What is it?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘It’s just… You’re too tall. I was on my tiptoes there and still could barely reach you, like out of a movie.’

Loki chuckled and simply kissed her again. Making sure to lean down even further this time for her.

They went back inside after sharing a few more kisses in the greenhouse. Loki plucked one of her books from the shelf and sat down on the sofa to read aloud to her. She loved his voice, so was in utter heaven when she lay down with her head on his lap. He couldn’t resist stroking her hair while he read, it was such a peaceful position to be in with the woman he wanted to be with. Neither of them could imagine a better evening, or better company.

Cleo was definitely starting to see a real soft side to him, that she had known was there from the start really. Though she would always love his mischievous and snarky attitude, too.

The two of them stayed up quite late, reading books and listening to music. Talking about some songs and the meanings of certain lyrics. Bickering playfully about some of it, too. When it was time for bed, Loki assumed he would be on the sofa.

But when Cleo got into her pjs she went to the living room and saw Loki in his boxers, sorting out the cushions on the sofa. Her breath was caught momentarily as she looked at his body, she knew he was strong but she never realised how fit he truly was under his clothes.

‘Uhm… You uh, can share my bed if you want? There should be room. The sofa isn’t exactly the comfiest.’ She said a little shyly.

‘Are you sure?’ Loki asked, surprised but pleased she asked.

‘Of course.’ She nodded a bit over eagerly, making him grin as he walked over to her. ‘Though you are warned, I am a fidget while I sleep. So I am not responsible for any injuries that may occur to you during the night from possible kicks or punches.’ She said as she headed into the bedroom and got into bed.

Loki threw his head back with laughter as he followed her though. ‘Well, there is only one solution for that.’ He growled and leapt into bed with her under the quilt, she started giggling when he grabbed her and pulled her back flush against his front and he playfully, and lightly, bit her shoulder.

‘I will just keep you locked in my arms for the night… For my own safety, of course.’ He hummed and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

‘Of course, for safety.’ She giggled. Though she had a feeling that he was big on affection, it seemed, once he got to know and trust someone. And she certainly didn’t mind that, at all.

She went to sleep with the biggest smile on her face as she was encased in his protective and warm embrace. Though it took a little while for her racing heart to calm down enough for her to sleep.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #what about trust #chapter 9 #fanficshiddles

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ignisnocturnalia · 4 years

Note

Hi there! I dunno if you take requests but if yeah, could I request some Zavala x Reader Relationship HC's? :3

No problem! I'd actually like to encourage requests, I like writing but I usually don't have the motive to start. I probably enjoy writing for others more than for myself, it's definitely easier to start something with guidelines/instructions that has a definitive end goal

Zavala x Reader Relationship HCs

You've had a crush on this man from the moment you first stepped into the Tower

You visit him the most out of all the Vanguard, always taking up bounties to glean praise from the stoic Titan

Zavala, seeing as many come to him for the extra work, doesn't realize why you're hounding so hard until Ikora gives him a hint

You, on the other hand, are hoping very hard he doesn't notice because you don't want to make your current relationship weird with Zavala

You continue to be oblivious to the fact that he knows, while Zavala thinks long and hard

Starting a romantic relationship is a big deal as a Guardian, to him at least

He thinks about how worried he is everytime you go to do field work, and especially the raids you've participated in; he dreads about how much he would worry if he does accept your advances

You take notice of how quiet he's gotten and you start to worry, going to Ikora for help

All she does is smile knowingly (Thanks Ikora, for taking bg character to a whole other level)

You continue to be hyper aware for the next week, watching Zavala's face and listening to his tone to make any kind of conclusion out of his short wordedness

You almost die of a heart attack when he asks you to meet him in his office after dark

Your mind is in two places: Am I about to be put down for wanting to romance the Titan Vanguard, or am I getting-

You're looking right at him before you can finish your thoughts, thank FUCK he only has a few lights on

Instead, he asks you out for a proper date

A true gentleman

Neither of you are experienced with the whole relationship business, and Zavala honestly seems like he has trouble differentiating his work life from his personal life

You decided to take him to your favorite spot on Earth

Cayde called you Lady Guardian for good reason

Zavala's face is almost in disbelief as both of you gaze up to the jagged point of Felwinter's Peak

You've packed a meal big enough for both of you, and you're determined to make this a full date

"You've scaled this mountain before?"

Plenty of times, plenty of comical deaths

"What's the matter? Scared of a little challenge? It'll be worth it, I promise." You bump his shoulder lightly to try and loosen him up

The climb is slow and every once in a while one of the temple wolves will approach you for attention

Zavala isn't keen on offering his hand until you convince him, and wolf petting becomes an unexpected bonding moment

You reach the camping outcrop roughly an hour before the sunset you want him to see

Zavala seems to understand why you've brought him here when you guide him to the edge overlooking the Temple grounds

The meal is a big success

You both share stories, and your ears still can't believe it, but Zavala actually laughed with you!

Your attention is brought back when the light level drops, and you excitedly lead him back to the edge

This time, you sit down and swing your legs over the edge; Zavala follows suit

By this point, you've gotten used to the lack of oxygen and the bite of the wind, displaying a full face blush as you inch your hand over to Zavala's that rests on the cold rock between you

You're already dating, why are you treating handholding like it's a sin?

Silence has never been more comfortable, and you even grow bold enough to rest your head on his shoulder

He tenses for a moment before allowing himself to lean into your warmth

The moment you've been waiting for happens: clouds clear just enough for the vibrant colors of the sunset to break through and the land is washed in a warm orange

You look up to see his reaction, but surprise surprise, he's looking right at you

You've never seen him look so calm before, and you can't find it in yourself to stop when you close the small gap and leave a peck on his lips

That day becomes the defining moment of your relationship with the Titan Vanguard

Nsfw 👁👄👁

Consent is absolute, he will probably ask too many times even if you are deep in it

Zavala is a sensual lover, if you want him to be rough be prepared to work for it

He'd prefer to have you as the dominant because if you're leading, he most certainly has your consent, but he will still be willing to switch roles

Hips. When do you think was the last time this man got any kind of this attention? Soft skin is hard to come by as a Guardian, and he enjoys being able to hold you

Expect plenty of rubs and massages on your thighs

Everywhere around his torso is sensitive when he's in the mood, just give a few grips or light scratches and you'll have a new beast to deal with

Zavala does his best to discover all of your sensitive spots as well; he is as dedicated to delivering pleasure to you as you are to him

He also likes to kiss around your neck and collarbone when he gets the chance

It may take a LOT of convincing and talking, but you could totally get him to rail you in his office

Fluff

Long mornings just sitting in bed and cuddling

Surprisingly alright with PDA, every time you get to visit him on the job you two will share a kiss

You do not want to imagine what being a Vanguard member entails, especially if you go by how tense his muscles are; poor fella won't ask you to massage him to not burden you, but you know how much this man needs it

You can ask him to pick you up and he will gladly bridal style carry you where you want to go as long as it's nearby

You may attempt to pick him up in the same fashion, but if you cannot do it both of you will be laughing together for a long time

Scenic dates on Earth and other planets, the best non-enemy infested spots discovered by you during your Guardian outings

Occasionally you'll help him file his pesky paperwork; a desk job will never be your strong suit

Your anniversary is always spent returning to the Iron Temple and climbing Felwinter's Peak, sharing a basket of food prepared by both of you at the top while gazing at the sunset

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #commander zavala #zavala x reader #ikora rey #vanguard #cayde6 #request #fluff

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crescentmoons-and-stardust · 3 years

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Twisted Tales: The Path in the Woods

There was a strange little village tucked away in the shadow of a mighty kingdom. It was surrounded by forest on all sides. There was a crooked little road through the trees that led to the next village over. The path was perfectly safe, as long as you didn’t stray. There was a strange tradition in this village that everyone followed without question. When the daughters of the village first menstruated, she was sent alone down the path. She would be received by the neighboring village and sent home with a baby in her belly.

If she strayed from the path, the wolves would get her.

Lizzy was fourteen on the morning she woke with blood between her legs. She tried to wash the stain away before her mother saw but she was not quick enough. Lizzy had known about the journey in the woods ever since she was old enough to remember. All the girls were taught about their eventual journey and learned to dread it.

The rest of Lizzy’s day was a flurry of activity as she was prepared for her long night. The village assembled around the woods to see her off. She was given a lantern and a small basket of food. She was dressed in a thick red cloak as all the daughters before her had been dressed.

“Remember,” the mayor told her as the rest of the village listened. “Do not stray from the path. The wolves will smell your blood and get you.”

With a kiss from her mother and another stern warning from her father, Lizzy retreated into the darkness of the woods.

It was surprisingly silent in the woods and Lizzy felt her fear evaporating the longer she walked. The full moon peaked in through the treetops lighting the path ahead of her. For the first time Lizzy realized that her childhood was over. So long she had thought about this very walk but never gave much thought to what happened after. She would come back pregnant and be a mother. Her own mother had made this walk and came back with her eldest brother in her womb. She had been wed to her father before the baby was born and no one spoke of the boy’s real father. Just as everyone turned a blind eye to their daughters coming home with bastards. It was a blessing to return and these children were treated no differently than their legitimized siblings.

Did Lizzy’s mother think often of her brother’s true father? For all the preparations and warnings the girls of the village received, they were only given vague answers about how a baby was made. It involved a boy and some form of touching. It would hurt but only for a moment and then it would be over. Lizzy found her heart beating faster as she thought of it.

So lost in her thoughts, Lizzy didn’t notice the faint howl of a wolf in the distance. She didn’t notice the second and third howl either. It was the fourth howl, much closer this time, that caught Lizzy’s attention. She forced her feet to keep moving. “Don’t stray from the path,” She told herself. “Don’t stray from the path.” She turned a corner and there the wolf was. Off in the trees it stood, watching her. It’s head was cocked to one side and the sight made the wolf look sweet in a way. She was warned she might see the wolves but all she had to do was stay on the path.

With a deep breath, she moved forward. The wolf followed alongside her. Soon another wolf joined and Lizzy could see several more in the distance. They were running together and leaping. It looked as if they were playing and Lizzy felt joy watching them. They were wild and free and she was envious. One of the wolves approached as close as it could without stepping on the path. It rose to its hind legs and shed its skin like a cloak and suddenly a young woman stood before Lizzy.

But wait, she knew this young woman. It was Roana, the blacksmith’s daughter. She had left for her walk in the woods three years prior and did not return.

“Little Lizzy, welcome to our woods,” Roana said. The other wolves began to change to women too. Some Lizzy recognized, others she didn’t.

“I don’t understand,” Lizzy said.

“I know, it can be shocking. But we are not here to harm you Lizzy. We are your sisters and only offer protection. Step off the path and you can join us.”

“I have to stay on the path,” Lizzy protested weakly.

“I know that’s what they’ve told you. They told all of us that too. But it is not for your protection but for theirs. The men of our village know what we are capable of. They pass down the secret from father to son and send us away in hopes to change us. Daughters of the moon born with wildness in their hearts. There is a big bad wolf but it’s not in these woods, it’s inside of you. They know it, and they fear it. At the end of the path you won’t find the gentle embrace of a lover but fists ready to beat you into submission. They’ll cage the magnificent creature inside you and you will never know it again. Come with us and we’ll show you how to let your wolf out.”

Lizzy could feel a swelling deep in her chest and knew it to be true. She let the red cloak drop from her shoulders and excitedly stepped from the path. She ran with her two legs until they were suddenly four and a pack of fearless wolves followed.

Lizzy’s family waited a year for her return before they mourned her. The village continued to send their daughters down the path. Some were obedient and made the journey while others strayed. But you shouldn’t mourn them, for they are not gone. Listen closely and you may just hear them out there in their woods, howling joyfully at the moon.

#little red riding hood #little red #fairy tales #fairy tale retelling #little red riding hood au #fairy tale au #tw blood #my post #aesthetic challenge #fairytale #fairytale aesthetic #dark fairytale aesthetic #dark fairytale #78 of 100 #twisted tales

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ya-girl-mc · 4 years

Text

Hammered

Character: Tsukishima Kei × Fem Reader

Concept: Y/N joins Tsukishima and his colleagues for a night of drinking, but ends up embarrassing him as she gets wasted

A/N: Cause I miss getting drunk and doing stupid shit, hence this fic feat. our salty boi ✌ it was rly fun to write this so,, hope u enjoy it too!!

☆☆ A Haikyuu!! Fanfiction ☆☆

Light filtered through the window blinds, rousing Y/N from her slumber as she pried her eyes open, cursing to herself as she felt a stinging pain in her temples. She was hungover, pretty badly at that, and as much as she wracked her brain to try and recall the events that transpired the night before, it only made her headache much worse.

Shit...I don't feel so good.

As her eyes darted around, she was immediately relieved knowing that she was lying down on the couch in her and Tsukishima's living room, managing to deduce - despite her muddled state-of-mind - that someone must have taken care of her in her drunken stupor.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N tried to sit up slowly, wincing as her temples prickled with pain with every movement. In her peripheral vision, however, was her livid-looking boyfriend with probably the deepest scowl she's ever seen as he stared her down from where he sat.

"Kei...?"

"Did you sleep well?" While the inquiry was meant to be out of concern, Tsukishima delivered it in a monotonous, yet utterly chilling manner which only meant one thing: he was pissed.

"What happened? And what's got you frowning so early in the morning?" She carefully questioned, eager yet dreading to find out how she must have royally screwed up the night before to get him this upset. Her curiosity only infuriated Tsukishima more and Y/N could have almost sworn seeing a blackish aura swirl around him.

"You...you really don't remember a damn thing, do you?"

*****

Fridays were usually the most anticipated day of the week for most members of the working class; however, in Tsukishima's case, he was dreading this Friday in particular.

After a strenuous week at the office, his boss suggested the entire team go drinking to reward themselves for their hard work and as a means to de-stress. But, Tsukishima wasn't keen on partaking in such nights of revelry especially after a long week at work as he'd rather spend his Friday nights and weekends relaxing at home with Y/N. The only reason that he decided to tag along is due to her persistence for him to do so.

Sighing deeply to himself, Tsukishima followed his colleagues as they entered the izakaya, chattering excitedly as they settled in at a long table at the far back. Amongst the clientele for that night, one of them in particular caught his attention, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Y/N?"

She was sat on one of the stools overlooking the kitchen. At the sound of her name, she turned towards its source and grinned widely. "Kei! Fancy running into you here and I see that you're also with your team. Good boy!"

He subtly rolled his eyes and sat down on the stool next to hers, unable to fight off a smile that made its way to his face. "Yeah yeah, if I didn't join them I'd never hear the end of it from you. Anyway, are you here alone?"

"Yeah, just stopped by on the way home from work to pick up some gyoza and katsudon for dinner. But wait, maybe I should have gotten takoyaki, too? Or maybe another serving of gyoza-" Y/N rambled as she grabbed the menu, her eyes scanning rapidly over the items.

He just gazed at her in amusement, completely oblivious to the inquisitive stares his co-workers shot their way. Tsukishima in the workplace was usually placid, reserved, and mostly impassive; seeing his relaxed and pleasant demeanor as he interacted with Y/N was especially intriguing to them, wondering amongst themselves just who that woman was in Tsukishima's life.

Keen on finding out the answer, one of his senpais called him over to their table. It suddenly dawned on him that there was no other choice than to formally introduce Y/N to them. And, he definitely was not looking forward to it as he'd never hear the end of their relentless teasing. "Y/N, would you mind coming along with me for a bit?"

Discreetly straightening her clothes and smoothening her hair, Y/N nodded and followed him to where his co-workers sat, anxious to make a good first impression. At their arrival, they immediately trained their gazes on her, just as eager to find out who she was. "Everyone, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. We live together," Tsukishima stated nonchalantly.

The shock on their faces was borderline comical as they stared back at him, their jaws hanging open in disbelief. "Girlfriend?!"

He sighed, already dreading the uproar they're about to cause. Tsukishima was a private person and rarely talked about his personal life as he maintained a firm work-life boundary. It was not like he was embarrassed to introduce his girlfriend to them; he just perceived the entire ordeal to be troublesome as his colleagues would jump at any chance to find something to tease him about.

Y/N straightened herself and bowed. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N. Thank you very much for taking care of Kei - I mean - Tsukishima all this time."

"I can't believe this!" One of his kouhais wailed. "To think that an office drone like Tsukishima-senpai has a girlfriend, and a very pretty one at that. So what the hell am I exactly doing wrong?"

"Believe me, I could tell you everything that you need to hear," Tsukishima retorted and shot his kouhai a dagger-like glare.

One of his senpais, a man who looked to be in his late 30's, leaned over and flicked his kouhai on the forehead as he winced in response. "Stop bad-mouthing Tsukishima when his girlfriend's literally standing in front of you. Anyway, nice to meet you, Y/N!"

They instantaneously began bombarding her with questions such as "how did you two meet", "how long have you been together", "what do you do for a living", and "of all men, why Tsukishima." Unable to keep up with what almost seemed like an interrogation by his colleagues, Y/N smiled sheepishly and shot Tsukishima a pleading look, silently begging him to bail her out.

"That's enough, all of you. You're creeping the poor lady out." Y/N turned to the man that sat at the head of the table; he exuded authority which practically gives himself away as the boss. Bringing up a cup of sake to his lips, he took a sip and eyed his subordinates sternly, yet the amusement in his gaze was palpable as he shifted his attention to Y/N. "Sorry about that, we just didn't expect our lone wolf Tsukishima to have a girlfriend, so we're all excited to meet you. If you don't mind, maybe you can join us, Y/N?"

"Sir-" Tsukishima began to protest as he felt the work-life boundary he stubbornly maintained begin to crumble; but to his surprise, Y/N seemed keen on accepting the invitation, a bashful smile on her face.

"I'd be happy to, but I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You won't, don't worry about it!" He assured dismissively and proceeded to order another round of drinks and accompanying snacks. "It's a pleasure of ours to get to know you and finally get a glimpse of Tsukishima's life outside of work."

Flattered and amused at how especially eager they seemed to know more about their enigmatic colleague and his girlfriend, Y/N gratefully accepted the invitation. "Alright, a few drinks wouldn't hurt."

*****

"Okay, I remember that much...but it still doesn't explain why you're so pissed," Y/N mused, listening earnestly to Tsukishima as he filled her in on what seemed like a disastrous night of revelry caused by her drunken antics.

He sighed and took off his glasses to rub his temples, the events that transpired the night before seemingly traumatizing him. "That's because you got carried away, you idiot."

*****

A couple of shots was all it needed for Y/N to become fully accustomed with Tsukishima's colleagues and pretty soon, they were chattering away like long-time friends while he fixated his gaze on her, his eyebrows furrowing in mild displeasure.

Aren't they becoming a little bit too friendly with her? And Y/N's just two shots in and she's already starting to get tipsy. Geez, this is so troublesome.

"Hey, one at a time please! I'll answer your questions one by one," Y/N instructed quite giddily, Tsukishima gazing at her in concern as she downed her third shot. He didn't want to be a buzzkill especially when she seemed to genuinely enjoy his colleagues' company and vice versa; however, her alcohol tolerance was remarkably low and it didn't take much for her to become fully inebriated. He decided to keep a watchful eye on her instead to prevent any incident from occurring due to her drunken antics.

"So, how and when did you two meet?"

"Kei and I go way back in high school," Y/N began as everyone at the table listened to her attentively. "He was part of our school's volleyball team and looked so cool as he played! That's when I started to have a crush on him, but it was one-sided though."

And there goes her filter, Tsukishima thought to himself, concealing his exasperation by downing his cup of sake, trying as best as he can to drown out the uproar his colleagues caused at her revelation.

"No way! Tsukishima-senpai was a volleyball player? I just can't imagine that!" One of his kouhais exclaimed, completely perplexed at the thought.

Tsukishima was about to reply with another snide remark, but Y/N was quick to interject. "Hell yeah he was, and he's such a great middle blocker to boot. He played so calmly as he read his opponent's moves...ahhh that composure of his is what makes him so cool!"

While he appreciated her attempt to defend his honor, it only increased everyone's amusement as she fawned over him, much to his chagrin. "So Y/N-" One of his senpais grinned sneakily, and Tsukishima pretty much figured out what the next inquiry will be about. "-who confessed to whom?"

"Oh, that takes me way back!" She mused, leaning against the man in question who sat right next to her. "I didn't have the courage to confess since he seemed so unapproachable and indifferent, so I thought about giving up on him. But as we became seniors, we ended up in the same class and became quite close. Eventually, during our graduation ceremony, Kei pulled me aside and confessed! I was so shocked that I started crying and...well, the rest is history."

"So it was Tsukishima here who confessed!" One of his senpais beamed and threw an arm around his shoulder, clinking his sake cup with his. "The revelations just keep on coming and coming."

"But that's amazing though," their boss remarked, completely engrossed in the conversation as much as his subordinates were. "You've been together for such a long time now. It's pretty rare for high school sweethearts to last that long."

Y/N nodded earnestly and downed her fourth shot before Tsukishima had the chance to snatch it away from her hands. "I agree, but Kei is such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend! He may seem like a sour puss on the outside but he's reaaaaaally sweet and very very clingy! But shhhhh...don't tell him I said that, though."

Ugh great, now she's done it. Tsukishima almost had to cover his ears as everyone at the table guffawed, unable to stomach the idea of their placid colleague and the clingy boyfriend Y/N described being the same person. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and praying for the evening to be over.

*****

Y/N cringed as Tsukishima helped her recall the things she had blurted out amid her inebriated state, starting to slowly understand the reason why he was so livid in the first place. "Okay...first of all, I am so sorry - with every fiber of my being - for embarrassing you like that-"

"That's not all you did," Tsukishima interjected quite menacingly and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to keep his temper in-check. "As if that wasn't humiliating enough, you managed to exceed my expectations."

*****

A couple more shots later, Y/N was too far gone. She was completely wasted, and Tsukishima couldn't bear to look at his co-workers as they shot each other uneasy looks, the concern palpable in their wordless exchanges. He was utterly embarrassed yet frustrated at himself since she somehow managed to surpass her drinking limit despite being under his watchful eye.

"Heyyyyy, owner! Anotha' round of sake for this table right here, and put it on my tab!"

As Y/N made an attempt to leave the table, she accidentally knocked over a half-empty glass of water, the liquid spilling all over the table as a result. Giggling to herself while Tsukishima's colleagues scrambled to remove their belongings from the table, she attempted to grab a bottle of sake, but he swiftly withheld her attempt to do so, yanking it out of her reach.

"Okay, enough is enough," he reprimanded firmly, setting the bottle down on the table and bringing his face close in an attempt to get through to her. "Y/N, for the love of God, please get ahold of yourself."

"Tsukkiiii...you're hereee!" It was futile, Y/N's glassy eyes an indicator that she was in no condition to listen to reason. She smiled goofily and threw herself into his arms, the sheer force causing Tsukishima to stumble, his arm accidentally knocking over a glass to the floor as it completely shattered as a result.

"Shit! I'm so sorry, did anyone get hurt?" He exclaimed in a state of uncharacteristic panic, his arms struggling to support his drunken mess of a lover as she began mumbling unintelligibly to herself.

"We're good, Tsukishima. Don't worry about it," his boss assured. "But, I think it's best if you take her home, she doesn't look too good."

Yes, good call, that's one way to put it. Goddammit, this is too fucking embarrassing.

Pretty soon, the izakaya's owner approached the group amid the commotion, and with Tsukishima sincerely apologizing and swearing to pay for the damages, he also insisted on paying for the entire group's bill to compensate, but they turned down his offer, advising him and Y/N to get themselves home safely.

Tsukishima thought that the nightmare had ended; apparently, Y/N had more in store as she tapped his boss' shoulder, staring down at him in an attempt to look stern. "Hey sirrrr...can you lay off Tsukki sometimes? 'Cuzzzz...he comes home waaayyyy too late and we barely have enough time to get down and dir-"

"NOOO!" Tsukishima cried out in horror, completely and utterly humiliated as he scrambled to clamp his hand over Y/N's mouth in an attempt to salvage what's left of both of their dignities. However, the force caused her to stagger, her unruly arm knocking over a bottle of sake atop the table. Tsukishima was unable to do anything as he hopelessly watched it topple over, the liquid spilling and trickling down on his boss' lap as he felt every ounce of his life force drain out of his body.

God, if you're listening, then please...I don't care how you do it, but I beg of you...just kill me now.

*****

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" Y/N wailed and buried her face in a pillow, unable to bring herself to look at Tsukishima as he unveiled the horrific experience he and his co-workers went through due to her drunken stupor. To say that she was embarrassed was a complete understatement; she was mortified, and it definitely was not an ideal first impression as she mourned for her long gone dignity. "Just kill me, please!"

Tsukishima was practically seething with rage at this point, wishing that the night before had just been a nightmare, yet it was nothing but a cruel reality. "You're embarrassed? How the hell do you think I feel? I lost count of the number of times I had to apologize before I hauled your drunken self home! You literally went crazy, Y/N! How careless, especially knowing that you can't handle alcohol well!"

She deserved to be scolded. Y/N lifted her head from the pillow and looked up at him, her eyes prickling with tears as she wallowed in her shame. "Kei...I'm so sorry. You're right, I was careless and I embarrassed you in front of your co-workers. I really didn't mean to! Oh my god...what if you got fired-" It must have been the after-effects of her hangover that made her an emotional mess as she felt tears running down her face, berating herself for acting in such a distasteful manner - in public and in front of his colleagues, at that.

Tsukishima deeply sighed to regain his composure. He settled down next to his lover on the couch, his hand rubbing across her back as he tried to calm her down. "Don't be ridiculous. I won't get fired over something like that, the boss isn't that shallow. He even called me up as soon as we got home to ask how you were doing."

At his gesture, Y/N bawled even harder, the tears streaming endlessly down her face. "I'm really sorry for ruining your night. I promise that I won't do it again."

"Y/N," Tsukishima began and tipped up her chin, locking his golden eyes with her puffy ones. "Look, I'm even more upset that you weren't being careful. I won't stop you from drinking, but you've got to be more aware of your own limitations. What if I wasn't there with you? What if you were alone and there was no one you trusted to take care of you?"

He's right, I'm such an idiot. I sure as hell won't be drinking anytime soon especially after last night's debacle!

She only managed a nod, sniffing profusely as she fished out her handkerchief to wipe her tear-stained face. "I'm so sorry, Kei. I swear that I'll be careful next time."

"You better be, you drunkard," he playfully retorted, the corners of his mouth subtly twitching upwards at how undeniably adorable she was being.

"So...you're not mad anymore?" Y/N inquired softly, looking up at Tsukishima with pleading eyes. While his earlier rage was now long gone, he did go through quite an ordeal, and he wasn't keen on letting her off the hook that easy as he wickedly grinned at her.

Oh, shit. I don't like that look.

"Sorry Y/N, but you're not getting off that easy. You did humiliate the both of us after all," he stated deviously, his smile widening at the uneasy expression on her face. "So for the next two weeks, you'll be doing all the household chores, and you're on bathroom cleaning duty for the entire month."

She sighed and nodded defeatedly. It was definitely a pain, but Y/N was resolute on serving her punishment to atone for what she did. However, she couldn't help but feel relieved since she had expected something way worse; doing all the household chores seemed quite tame in comparison to what she had imagined.

But then again, this was Tsukishima, and as he sensed her apparent relief, he laid out the pinnacle of her punishment, unable to fight off the sadistic grin on his face. "And, as soon as you're not hungover anymore, we'll be paying each of my colleagues a visit so you can sincerely apologize for what you did."

Y/N gawked at him, her heart dropping to her stomach. "C-come again?" He's not serious. He can't be...right? Right?!

"You heard me." Tsukishima was dead serious. She knew that something was amiss with his household chores punishment; he may be her boyfriend, but he definitely was a sadistic bastard if he needed to be.

"NOOO!" She wailed, completely mortified at the prospect as she began hitting him with the pillow, her hangover being the least of her concerns. "Please Kei, anything but that! I'd rather not meet them again for the rest of my living days, so please!"

Tsukishima chuckled and stilled her movements, staring her down to show just how serious he was. "Well, that just means that this punishment is befitting, right? At least now you'll think twice before letting yourself get wasted again. This will be a good learning experience for you."

Y/N knew that there was no other way to escape from her upcoming predicament. Completely at a loss, she only managed to shoot Tsukishima the harshest glare that she could muster. "Fine. If it will make you happy, you sadistic bastard."

Knowing that he had emerged victorious for this round, he let out a carefree laugh and planted an affectionate kiss atop her disheveled hair. "I appreciate it. Now, let's get that hangover treated real quick."

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #tsukishima kei #haikyuu × reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu tsukishima

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 11: Formality

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (FINALLY!)

Warnings: angsty angst angst

Notes: Does anyone still like this series? The last part kinda flopped 🤨

Anyway, I’m back and super excited bc my babies are FINALLY official and they only had to almost die like three times to do it!

P.S. Lydia has terrible taste in men, Y/N still sucks at being a psychic, and the high school desperately needs more security

————————

Have you ever had a day go so unbelievably sideways that you honestly can’t even comprehend how fucked up it is?

Yeah, welcome to my Friday.

“This is the worst! My life is literally over.”

I huffed in annoyance, my jaw dropping at the pure absurdity of that statement. “Scott, Peter tried kidnapping you this morning and you’re worried about a dance?”

He frowned from beside me, his shoulders sagging. Last night, Deaton tried making Stiles and I leave the clinic once he was all patched up, but we both refused. I still wasn’t completely convinced that he was alive until he woke up with a start this morning.

It didn’t take long for Peter to show up, demanding that we hand him over. Actually, I can’t really say we because the three of us hid in the back while Deaton somehow took care of it.

Derek was still hanging out in the Argent’s basement, probably being tortured by Kate but most likely dead by now. I tried talking to Allison when I got to school this morning, but she practically ran away from me when I brought it up. I had no idea how much she knew at this point, and it was freaking me out.

And, to top it all off, Scott was flunking so many classes that coach banned him from the dance tonight.

Clearly, that was the most pressing issue.

He was so desperate afterward that he asked Jackson to watch over Allison, since he is her date. He apparently refused because it’s Jackson, so Scott had been losing his mind with worry all day. He was convinced that Peter would be after her next, but I wasn’t so sure.

She wasn’t an obvious choice. I mean, her family is literally just a bunch of professional werewolf hunters. Adding her to his pack wouldn’t make much sense.

“I just—I can’t sit by and watch him try to kill everyone I love.” Scott forced a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.

My steps faltered and I peered over at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. “You love her?”

“Oh,” His eyes widened as he realized what he said. “Yeah. I do. Holy shit. I love her.”

I watched as his lips slowly pulled into a grin, relieved that he wasn’t freaking out for a moment. It’d been pretty obvious for awhile that they loved each other, and I was honestly shocked it had taken him this long to acknowledge it, but happy for him nonetheless.

“That’s it. I’m going tonight.” His face hardened with determination before he turned on his heel and walked away briskly.

“Okay. Bye to you too!” I chuckled, curious to see how he’d manage to sneak in.

I only made it a few steps before someone rammed into my side forcefully. A pair of hands gripped my arms to steady me as I nearly toppled over. My eyes narrowed as they landed on Stiles’ sheepish expression.

“Hey. Sorry.” He let me go quickly and scratched at the back of his head. “Where have you been?”

“Class..?” I drawled slowly, my eyes trailing over his twitchy frame slowly. He seemed more wired than normal, which was saying a lot.

His chest was heaving as if he’d just run a mile—which I’d recently learned he was surprisingly incapable of—and his eyes were shining with barely contained anxiety.

“I just...uh—I have a, I’ve been trying to...will you go to formal with me?” He rushed the words out so quickly, it took me a second to process them.

I just stared at him, waiting a moment to see if he was going to follow that up with anything else. “You mean the one that’s tonight? Are you serious?”

His honey eyes widened, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. I mean, what else was I supposed to say? I’d been waiting for him to ask me for almost two weeks now, and he waits until the day of? Who does that?

“Uh,” He glanced away from me quickly, his cheeks turning pink under the fluorescent lights. “Not if you’re going to say no.”

I just rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my heart began fluttering at the thought of going with him. I took a step forward so that there were only a few inches separating us and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“It’s a date.” I patted his chest before walking away, an amused smirk pulling at my lips at his stunned expression.

————————

I let my fingers trail over the frilly materials hanging in front of me as I took in my options. I was failing miserably at finding something decent to wear tonight. I wasn’t used to dressing up or being overly girly, so I had no idea where to start. I’d really just been standing here for the last several minutes, overwhelmed by all the colors and textures.

Allison was standing to my left, inspecting a few dresses in a full length mirror. Lydia was long gone somewhere behind me with a mountain of cloth in her arms. I picked up a knee-length blue dress and decided it wouldn’t hurt to try it on.

I saw someone approaching Allison out of my corner of my eye and glanced her way fleetingly, but froze as my gaze locked with Peter’s. I looked around, not fully believing that he was here, before jerking my attention back to him. He gave me a slow, amused smirk before shifting his eyes toward her. My head whipped back to the dresses in front of me, my entire body going rigid as I tried not to alarm her.

Maybe Scott had been right this afternoon. But would he really try to turn her now? In the middle of the mall?

“That’s not your color.” I heard him murmur, and stole another look their way. I didn’t want Allison to catch on that I knew him, or that anything was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Allison shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable as he stared at her intensely. “Sorry if that was intrusive but, considering your skin tone, I’d go lighter.”

“Because I’m pale?” She asked quietly, somehow not questioning the fashion advice from a strange man.

“Fair.” He corrected, his head tilting as he tried to look well-meaning. “I mean, you can’t call skin like yours pale. Not skin that perfect...”

“Okay.” She laughed awkwardly and put the dress she was considering back on the rack beside her.

“Trust me, I have a...unique perspective on the subject.” She nodded and turned to walk away with a tight smile, obviously weirded out, but he stepped to the side so she couldn’t get away. My skin crawled at the predatory gleam in his eyes as he practically sized her up.

She watched nervously as he grabbed a new dress from the rack behind him and took her hand in his. She reeled back instantly at the unwelcome touch, but that didn’t stop him from bringing her skin up beside the material for comparison. “See? Much better.”

I’d heard enough. I took the few steps needed to close the distance between us, my heart racing in my chest. I wasn’t convinced that he was stupid enough to try anything wolfy in public, but I wasn’t about to take any chances, either. I stopped at her side and grabbed her wrist gently. Her wide eyes jerked toward me, swimming with relief.

“Hey, Lydia needs help in the dressing room.” I rushed the lie out quickly, barely registering that she nodded in understanding before pulling her away.

I didn’t even spare another glance at Peter as I weaved through the narrow isles briskly, not stopping until I found Lydia clear on the other end of the store. She actually was by the dressing rooms, posing to herself in a full length mirror. I staggered to a halt at the sight of the champagne dress she had on. It was somehow...familiar?

“That was so creepy.” Allison muttered quietly as she shook my hand off and plopped down onto one of the plush chairs beside the mirrors.

I walked right up to Lydia, unable to stop myself as I continued inspecting her dress. She watched me for a moment and raised her eyebrows expectantly when my gaze rose to meet hers. My face pinched in confusion. There was a persistent nagging at the back of my mind as I looked at her, like there was something I should be picking up on. But I just couldn’t place it.

“I think that’s the one.” I jumped as Allison suddenly spoke up from behind us. I cleared my throat and took a step away from Lydia, realizing how weird I was being.

She turned away from me with one last questioning glance before giving herself a satisfied smile in the mirror, her hands smoothing down the silky material before resting on her hips.

“Me too.” She spun around excitedly and disappeared behind one of the dressing room curtains.

I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt my stomach twist as a dark cloud of dread washed over me.

————————

I looked over Stiles’ shoulder, the hardwood floors beneath my feet vibrating as loud music rang throughout the space. We were slow dancing for the second time tonight, my arms locked around his neck and my head resting against his chest. It was really nice, being this close to him. It helped lower the base level of anxiety I’d been fighting all day.

It’d been nearly an hour since I last saw any of our friends. We all met up with our respective dates at the start of the dance, Lydia having brought a random lacrosse player since Jackson was with Allison. Just then, my eyes found them dancing stiffly a few couples away, but the sight did little to calm my nerves.

He was completely wasted at this point, since he thought it was a good idea to bring a flask of vodka with him, and she was just trying to make the best of it until we all went home. It was clear that neither of them wanted to be here together, but Scott had pretty much threatened him into watching over her, and she didn’t want to be without a date.

Scott successfully snuck in through the roof—don’t ask me how—and was managing to keep an eye on them while dodging coach all night. My eyes swept over the room, seeing nothing but familiar faces, just not the one I was looking for.

Stiles suddenly pulled back and my arms loosened from around his neck. His eyes rounded as they flickered around my face with concern. “You okay?”

I glanced over his shoulder again, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I also didn’t know how to explain the uneasy feeling I’d had since we got here. My dancing faltered as I noticed that Jackson and Allison were gone.

“Have you seen Lydia recently?” I asked absently, my eyes still sweeping around the gym quickly.

I took a step away from Stiles and turned all the way around, my chest tightening with anxiety. For some reason, I felt like I needed to find her. Right now. Or something terrible was going to happen. My anxiety was quickly rising to panic when I didn’t see her anywhere.

“Y/N?” Stiles put a hand on my shoulder and I glanced back to see him watching me closely, his brows pinched in confusion.

“I have to...” My skin was crawling with the intense need to get out of here. Something was wrong. I could just feel it. I leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek, already feeling guilty for what I was about to do. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

I started jogging away before he could try and stop me. My legs had a mind of their own as I stumbled through the dense crowd toward the exit. I braced my hands against the gym doors and pushed my way through, stopping for a moment as they fluttered closed behind me to consider where she could be. I huffed, feeling an urgency deep inside me that was only growing with each passing moment.

I turned on my heel to keep moving, and slammed right into a hard chest. I reeled back, ready to brush past whoever it was, but stopped when I saw that it was Jackson. His chest was heaving, as if he’d been running, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Jackson?” I asked tentatively, the look he was giving me only increasing my unease.

He stammered silently for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. His eyes fluttered as they glanced away from me apprehensively. He was acting like he’d just seen a ghost, or maybe something worse.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I pressed, taking a step toward him.

He gulped and let out a shuddering sigh. “I-I was out behind the school and...and I was...”

“What? What did you do?” My voice hardened with frustration as I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. He had definitely been up to something, if his guilt-ridden expression was any indication. I momentarily forgot what I was supposed to be doing as my curiosity peaked.

“I-I told...Allison’s dad, he was...”

My heart skipped a beat with panic at his words. Mr. Argent was behind the school? Why would he...

Oh shit.

Oh my God.

Without even sparing him another glance, I rushed past him and straight down the hall. Within seconds I was outside, the freezing night air causing my skin to rise with goosebumps instantly. My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out which way to go. On instinct, I starting running toward the lacrosse field.

My heart was hammering painfully in my chest as I sprinted as fast as humanly possible. I was suddenly very glad that I’d chosen to wear ballet flats tonight, instead of the heels Lydia had tried forcing me to buy. I let my intuition guide me as I kept going until I reached the edge of the field.

I staggered to a stop, my eyes widening at the sight of Lydia standing at the other end. Her back was to me as she walked around slowly, looking lost. I opened my mouth to call her name, feeling my chest loosen just slightly at the fact that she was okay.

I froze, my whole body growing rigid with fear as Peter suddenly emerged from the tree line just outside the field. His figure was mostly cloaked by the bright stadium lights as he approached her, and it didn’t seem like she’d seen him yet.

“Lydia!” I screamed, finally finding my voice through the panic coursing through me. I started running in her direction again, having no plan but just needing to be there with her.

She whipped around at the sound of her name, but made no move to get away. There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as Peter stalked toward her and opened his mouth wide, his eyes flashing bright red. She didn’t react nearly fast enough.

By the time I reached them, she was laying in a crumpled heap on the turf, blood splattered across her dress. All the air rushed from my lungs as a heavy sense of déjà vu washed over me.

Of course, how could I be so stupid? It was the vision I’d seen when Derek helped me, finally playing out in real life.

I let out a trembling breath, my chest feeling like it would collapse any second from the intense pressure. My mind went blank as Peter kneeled over her body, blood dripping down his face. His eyes, still red, slowly swept up to meet mine.

“Well, they don’t usually run toward me, but I’ll take it.” He muttered lowly, an amused smirk twitching at his lips.

My eyes were still locked onto Lydia’s unconscious frame beneath him. Her new dress was ripped, the red stain at her hip growing alarmingly fast. My heart clenched painfully and tumbled down into my stomach at the sight.

I was too late.

Peter took his time standing to his full height. I could feel his intense gaze on me, watching me closely, but I couldn’t look away from Lydia. She was so...broken. A wave of nausea washed over me and I forced my eyes to meet his.

My vision blurred as I tried desperately to catch my breath. “Is she dead?”

My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper, my entire body trembling. It was from the overwhelming terror being this close to Peter initiated, but I wasn’t just scared. I was angry. I knew something was going to happen all day, and I ignored my instincts. I saw this very thing happen weeks ago, but did nothing. And now, Lydia might be dead. Because of me.

Peter hummed low in his throat, his eyes scanning me from head to toe before glancing down at her fleetingly. “Not at the moment.”

A few tears escaped down my cheeks as I tore my gaze away from him to look at her again. I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. If she was still alive, it was just barely.

My panic only rose as I thought about how unlikely it was that I’d get out of this situation in time to bring her to a hospital. Her chances of survival were dropping by the second. And mine too, probably.

“Tell me, Y/N, what do you see in my future?” Peter look a slow step toward me, and I stumbled back to keep some distance between us.

My eyes jerked up to his as I stiffened, a shiver wracking my body as I became more aware of the freezing temperature. “How do you know about that?”

The earth crunched beneath his shoes as he stalked toward me. I stood impossibly still, knowing I wouldn’t be able to escape him. He didn’t stop until he loomed only inches away.

“How does anyone know anything?” He murmured hoarsely into my ear, and I recoiled back, my stomach clenching painfully in disgust. My eyes pinched shut as one of his hands came up to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. “You, my dear, would make a fantastic beta.”

My eyes jerked open again and I took a miniscule step away from him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Trust me, I wouldn’t. I’ve been told I can be really annoying. I wouldn’t make a good beta. Or a good anything, really. I’m hardly a psychic. You should just keep searching because, you know, whatever it is you’re looking for...isn’t me.”

“Oh, I think I’m willing to take my chances.” Time seemed to slow as his eyes flashed bright red, his mouth opening wide to show his razor sharp canines.

I whipped around, ready to at least attempt running for my life, but instantly froze at the sight of Stiles barreling toward us.

“No!” I shouted frantically, my heart leaping into my throat with panic.

A strong arm wrapped around my stomach and wrenched me backward. I slammed against Peter’s chest, hard. The air was knocked out of my lungs from the force, just as a clawed hand snaked around my throat.

Stiles lurched to a stop in front of us, his dress shoes slipping on the damp turf. He flailed to the ground before popping back up instantly, his eyes wide with horror as they glanced down at Lydia before landing on me.

“Don’t kill her. Please.” His voice was trembling with desperation as he held a hand out toward us hesitantly.

The tips of Peter’s claws dug into my skin and I winced, tears now running freely down my face. I was terrified. For myself, Lydia, and now Stiles. Peter had killed many times before, and there was literally nothing stopping him now. Stiles’ eyes flickered to my neck, his jaw clenching tightly.

“Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek.” Peter drawled, as if he wasn’t currently poised to do the opposite.

“W-what?” Stiles stammered, seemingly surprised by that request. His gaze was still firmly planted on Peter’s hand.

I felt a sharp stabbing at the base of my throat and my lips parted as a shuddering gasp escaped me. He was surely drawing blood at this point. Stiles’ eyes widened with alarm at the sight and his hand jerked toward us as if he were itching to intervene.

“Tell me how to find Derek Hale.” Peter leaned down, his warm breath fanning my shoulder. I tried jerking my head away, my heart lurching in my chest at his close proximity, but didn’t get far with his tight hold around me.

“I don’t know that! How would I know that?” Stiles’ voice rose to a frantic shout, his chest heaving as his glistening eyes finally moved up to Peter.

“You’re the clever one, aren’t you? And because deception has a very particularly accurate scent, Stiles. Tell me the truth. Or I will rip her apart.”

As if to prove the validity behind his words, his hand tightened around my throat. I instantly started pulling at his fingers as I felt my airway closing. My lips parted in a silent gasp, my lungs spasming painfully as I tried to force a breath in.

“Look. I don’t know! Okay?” Stiles rushed the words out in a complete panic, his eyes darting between Peter and my neck. Tiny black spots dotted my vision as I felt myself growing faint. “I swear—I swear to God I have no idea!”

Peter hummed low in his throat, his chest vibrating against my back. “Wrong again.”

Everything that happened next must’ve taken place in only a few seconds, but they seemed to drag on and on. Peter’s head jerked down to my left shoulder, his teeth digging into my skin easily. A scream tore through my throat as he finally released it, my vision blurring as unbearable pain rippled along my upper body.

Stiles face crumbled in utter horror and he lunged toward me just as Peter’s arms disappeared. I tried gasping for breath as I sagged to the ground, but my body just wasn’t cooperating. It felt like Stiles caught me, but I couldn’t be sure as I lost all feeling in my limbs.

Then, everything went black.

————————

I stirred, already wincing in pain as I slowly regained consciousness. A high pitched droning was the only sound in my otherwise quiet surroundings. My eyes fluttered open and instantly squinted against the harsh fluorescent lights above me.

Everything felt heavy. I sluggishly started turning my head away from the lights, but jerked to a stop as searing pain radiated from my shoulder. My face fell into a grimace as a pitiful groan escaped my lips.

Something shuffled at the foot of my bed and I froze. My heart jumped in my chest with panic. Memories of Peter came flooding back all at once, and I started trembling with fear at the unknown presence.

Stiles jerked upright, appearing at my side a split second later. I let out a small sigh of relief, wincing as my lungs angrily protested each breath I took. My body began relaxing as I realized I was safe.

“Oh my God! Y/N!” He practically yelled in my face as he leaned down over me. “Are you okay? Wait, that’s a stupid question. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

One of his hands disappeared beneath the thin mesh blanket covering my body and he pulled out a hallow cord with a small switch in the middle. “If it hurts you can push this button as much as you want and I won’t tell. You’ll be higher than a kite, but—”

“Stiles.” My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper as I interrupted his frantic rambling. “I feel okay. Just tired.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t been awake long enough to know how I felt. I’d gathered that I was in the hospital, but obviously didn’t know much else. My entire left side hurt like hell.

My eyes trailed over Stiles quickly, noting that he was still wearing his clothes from the dance. His white button up was stained with blood and dirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His black jacket had been discarded on a table by the door.

Maybe it hadn’t been long, then?

“Seriously?” He sagged down into the chair that sat beside my bed, his eyes widening in surprise. “You were asleep for almost thirty hours.”

“I was what?” I planted my hands on either side of my hips and pushed myself up, ignoring the pain that ripped through my shoulder at the movement.

How the hell had I been out that long? That meant it was already Sunday, although probably somewhere around midnight. Too many panicked thoughts invaded my mind at once to make sense out of any one of them.

Stiles bolted back to his feet and pushed me against the bed with a disapproving glare. “It was actually twenty eight hours, forty seven minutes, and sixteen seconds, if that makes you feel better.”

“You know what, somehow it does.” I huffed sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, wiggling around on the hard mattress in an effort to get comfortable again.

Stiles twitched his eyes at me while he sat back down apprehensively, as if not trusting me to stay put. He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck as he glanced down to my injured shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N...”

“For what?” My brows furrowed in confusion. I really had no idea why he would be apologizing. There was definitely a list of people that should feel bad right now, but he wasn’t one of them.

“I should’ve listened. If I’d just told him what he wanted...” He let out a heavy sigh and rested his elbows onto his knees before dropping his head into his hands.

I reached out and took one of his hands in mine, rubbing my fingers across his skin soothingly as he looked up at me cautiously. He had no reason to blame himself. Peter had already proven time and time again that he’s literally insane, and I’d made the stupid decision to run toward him mid-attack. I had a feeling he would’ve bitten me either way, regardless of anything Stiles did.

“It’s not your fault.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glistening with a slew of intense emotions.

I didn’t even have time to start deciphering them before he sat forward in his chair, his face hardening with determination. “I should’ve brought this up before I had to watch you almost die, but...you’re not—you know, how you are with me...with any other guys, right?”

His voice was timid as he struggled to stutter out the words. My heart swelled in my chest as my lips pulled up into a small smile. That was the most adorable, perfect, Stiles way of phrasing that question. For a moment, I forgot about all my worries.

“Stilinski, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His eyes twitched as he squeezed his fingers around mine minutely. “Only if you’re gonna say yes.”

I didn’t even have to think about it for a second.

“Of course I’m saying yes, you dork.” I let out a breathy giggle as a big grin took over his face.

His caramel eyes shined with happiness as he brought my hand against his mouth to place a gentle kiss on my fingers. It was about damn time we had that conversation. I honestly shouldn’t be surprised that it took us this long to make things official, considering how stubborn we both are. Regardless, it felt amazing to finally be able to call him my boyfriend.

My boyfriend, Stiles. It had a nice ring to it.

I only let myself relish the moment for a few more seconds before finally asking about the one thing I’d been dreading thinking about since waking up.

“How’s Lydia? Is she...?” I trailed off, not able to say the word out loud.

When I’d seen her last, she was only moments away from death. I was sure of it. If I’d been here this long from a bite to the shoulder, I couldn’t imagine the damage that had been done to her. My heart clenched with regret as I thought back to all the moments I could’ve done something differently that would’ve saved her.

Stiles winced beside me, hesitating for a long moment before answering in a quiet mumble. “She’s uh...missing.”

“Excuse me?” I instantly tried bolting upright at his words, my anxiety skyrocketing. Missing? How could she be missing?

He guided me back down gently with a hand on my uninjured shoulder, his eyes narrowing again in warning. “Yeah. She just kinda disappeared from her room this morning.”

It was like he could sense that I was about to try getting up again, as he peered down at me sternly and pressed his hand down more firmly. “My dad already has the entire department out searching. There’s nothing you can do.”

My mind was racing with anxious, jumbled thoughts. She could’ve been taken if no one was sitting by her bedside like Stiles had clearly done for me. Or, she could’ve run away. But why would she do that? She was in the hospital. Where she was safe and getting treatment. I guess, there was always a chance that she’d taken to the bite and shifted already...

I didn’t know what any of this meant for me. I could only assume at this point that I wasn’t a werewolf. I mean, my shoulder clearly hadn’t miraculously healed yet. I figured, if I were, it would’ve done so by now. I was just incredibly glad—and lucky—to be alive.

My eyes met Stiles’ as he leaned back in his chair and inspected me closely. He kept glancing toward the place where Peter had bitten me as he drummed his fingers against his lips. It was like he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I breathed, suddenly nervous. His anxious expression couldn’t mean anything good.

“There’s something I keep—something Derek said awhile ago that I can’t get out of my head.” He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing in apprehension.

I looked at him expectantly, urging him to continue. He was seriously starting to freak me out.

“The bite—he said it either kills you...and I think we’re good on that one...”

I glowered at his poorly timed sarcasm as his eyes continued flickering between my own and my shoulder. He swallowed thickly, and I could practically see his heart racing as he let out a ragged sigh. He finally caught my gaze, twitching uncomfortably in his seat.

“Or it changes you.”

Well, shit.

Episode 10 Episode 12

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fernsplaysthings · 3 years

Text

Whoops is this a short part three?

Follows on from this.

He didn’t bring it up the next day.

And to be fair, neither did Kestral. It made sense in their head that he’d probably forgotten. There’d been a lot of drink...Or he’d woken up in the cool grass next to a smouldering pile of ash that had been their campfire and a few empty glass bottles, tangled up with the other Hunter, and realised that he wasn’t as interested in the idea of kissing them sober as he was drunk.

There was no way they were going to mention it either with those thoughts rattling around in their skull, especially while they were trying to squash down the rising dread of dealing with the feelings that had made themselves very obvious even in an alcohol induced haze.

That morning Crow had been kind enough to wait for Kestral to stir awake before removing himself from their limbs and smoothing out their bedhead hair. He’d chuckled quietly at the bleary eyed blink he’d received in return. The bleary eyed blink that quickly became a wide eyed look of impending terror before they’d scrambled to their feet, scuttled away and vomited.

Attractive.

It was all they could think about at the time. They’d both been drinking and yet here they were, the Young fucking Wolf, emptying the contents of their insides maybe ten feet away from a man they really wanted to kiss. The embarrassment. And yet Crow had run a comforting hand between their shoulder blades, rubbing circles with his thumb and uttering a sympathetic hum.

Embarrassment and shame.

-----

I hope you can hear this. The Celebrant turned it around on us - the Hunter becomes the hunted. I wanted to...Listen, if things get ugly for us in here just know it’s not your fault. Everything I did, I did because I wanted to...

Kestral’s grip tightened on the collar of Crow’s cloak, their gloves creaked with the force, teeth gritted and bared, the frown that creased their brow and nose completely unpracticed, foreign to their features. His eyes had flown open wide at being dragged down, eye to eye with them, fixated on a face that really wanted to be furious. He looked like a prey animal for all of a few seconds.

“Don’t…” Kestral swallowed hard, exhaling sharply through their nose, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

His hands that had been raised in a gesture of peace fell to his sides, body still hunched slightly to meet the shorter Hunter’s gaze. It was obvious he was trying to fight back a stupid grin and a witty one liner to defuse the situation but Kestral was serious. Serious and sincere.

After a few more seconds of their eyes studying his face their expression softened with a sigh, tired and relieved all in one. Realising he was no longer at the mercy of an angry bird of prey, Crow let his own expression soften into a smile, raising a hand to Kestral’s cheek to gently cup their face.

“You’re perfect fucking Hunter material, huh?”

His smile widened, both at the self awareness and the way that they leaned into his palm, closing their eyes and letting out a breath. With their eyes closed Kestral only heard Crow wet his lips, open his mouth and briefly start a sound before changing his mind with a ‘hmm’.

“Thank you…for getting us out of there.”

Their eyes opened again, head bobbing slightly in acknowledgement of this thanks. His hand left their cheek, fingertips trailing down their jaw to their chin to tilt their head up more. They’d gotten used to the idle touches between them. It had just seemed normal to rest hands and head against their companion, to have him return gestures, tangle his fingers through their hair, adjust their armor occasionally...

But it still startled them when he pressed a kiss to their forehead, moving back to take a read of their reaction and finding them looking up at him, doe-eyed, flickering between holding his gaze and watching his mouth.

“Sooo…” he drawled, huffing a laugh and glancing slightly to his side, “Would you say this is an OK time to make good on that kiss?”

This time Kestral couldn’t stop their voice bubbling up and out of them excitedly before they’d even thought about what they were going to say, “Please do.”

That worked.

They had no idea what to expect. It’d been a damn long time since they’d shared any kind of romantic physical intimacy with anyone and they had no idea if kissing people was instinctive or if they were about to make a fool of themself. The great Young Wolf, God Slayer, reduced to fumbling Kinderguardian at the mere suggestion that someone wanted to put their mouth on their own.

Luckily every worry simultaneously left their thoughts as Crow’s hand snaked around their waist, pulled them flush against him and pressed the softest, slightly open mouthed kiss to their lips.

They realised somewhere between the second and third kiss that they’d not let go of his collars since scolding him for being an idiot Hunter and decided that tugging him down harder was a great idea. And it was, definitely, when they felt his lips curl up into a wide grin, his little laugh that they were incredibly fond of tickled their cheek.

“Osiris will be wondering where we are.”

“And here I was getting used to this,” he spoke against their lips, sharing breath before spending a few extra seconds pressing kisses to the heights of their cheeks, their brow and the tip of their nose before sighing contentedly, “You ready to report back?”

Of course they wanted to say no. What kind of touch-starved, emotionally deprived person would say no to continuing the showering of affection they’d just experienced? But on the other hand, Kestral needed to let Osiris know about the High Celebrant’s demise in glorious detail and give him a piece of their mind for even suggesting they leave Crow and Glint in the Ascendant Plane.

“Sure, but promise me we can continue this…” they made a gesture to the pair of them, “later.”

“Of course,” the quirk of his lips became cocky and self assured, “This is just the beginning.”

#young wolf x crow #destiny 2 #d2 #kestral //#i'm a sap

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dany-is-my-queen · 4 years

Text

Born To Be Yours | Part II

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,795

Note: I’m back!!!

Part 1 here Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

“You shouldn’t interfere when it’s none of your business.” Joffrey was still angry with you.

“Don’t mess with the ladies and we’ll be in peace.” You calmly said.

“Always so honorable... the hero saving the day.” Your mother mocked.

“Why you say it like that, mother? I would do it over again, you are so heartless and extreme about little matters.” You rolled your eyes.

“You don’t care about your brother's honor. That’s the real reason you defended those pathetic girls.” She spat.

“I do care about him. It’s the other way around. You are a pampered kid. You should start acting more like a man, Joffrey.” And with that you left his room.

“May I come in, princess?” The sweet voice of the oldest Stark daughter rang. You were on just a pair of trousers, definitely not wearing proper clothes to be talking to her.

“Of course, my lady. Just give me a second, please.” You put on a dress. “Let her in.”

“I wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior. You saved my wolf’s life, I’ll be forever thankful, my princess.”

“It was the right thing to do. I would have preferred her to stay by your side, though.”

“She’ll find a new home. I hope she returns to the north, where she belongs.” You gave her a soothing smile. “Does prince Joffrey hates me?” She asked sadly.

“No no, he is just a bit... irritating and gets easily offended. But it’s not personal, my lady. You are promised to him so with time your relationship will evolve.”

“I hope so. I’ll leave you to enjoy your evening, my princess.”

“Lady Sansa, if you need someone to talk to you can always come to me. You and your sister. I pray for your little brother to wake up. She nodded.

“You are very kind.”

~~~~~~

“Did you found a suitable candidate up in the North, niece?” Uncle Renly asked with a droll voice.

“I met a boy... very good looking and a gentleman but he wasn’t my type. He’s the eldest son of Lord Eddard.”

“Sounds quite the man.”

“We didn’t have the chance to get closer so I’ll forget about him.” You might never see him again after all.

“Princess Y/N, what can I do for you?” The tall man greeted.

“I haven’t had the chance to thank you, my lord, for accepting to be the new hand. I know it was a difficult choice to make, leaving your home. My father really needs you. He lacks of loyal friends and I believe you’ll be very helpful around here.”

“Oh, I will do my best not to let Robert down.” He smiled.

“A raven came this morning. I- I forgot to deliver it earlier, my lord hand.” Maester Pycelle said with his usual stutter and left.

“Good news?”

“My Princess! I didn’t expect to see you.” A voice that didn’t please you stated.

“Lord Baelish.” You faked a perfect smile.

“Lord Stark, perhaps you’ll like to share the news with your wife.”

“She’s on Winterfell.”

“Is she?”

“I won’t tell my mother. Lord Baelish knows I can keep a secret. Can I join you?” The relation you had with Petyr was not the best. He informed you of things your parents won’t share with you. Despite that you never liked him nor his personality.

“Better not keep her waiting.” You reached his brothel unnoticed.

“I’ll talk to her when you’re done. I’m not a spy. I can be trusted but I prefer to stay out of your business, Lord Eddard.” And it was true. You had no interest in gossiping.

“Thank you.” They entered. Not before he took Baelish and throttle him suspecting this was a trick.

“Lady Catelyn.” You bowed your head.

“Princess Y/N, what a surprise...” She looked at you with dismay.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell a soul. I am glad to hear that little Bran is finally awake. And also, I wanted to let you know that I’ll keep your daughters safe. Now that you both are here I give you my word. My family is complicated and tends to have a reputation. I will look after Lady Sansa and Lady Arya, as long as I can, I promise.” Since the incident with the direwolves you had this enormous feeling of responsibility, deep down you knew their stay in King’s Landing won’t be as enjoyable as they thought. You hoped you were wrong. Prevention was a good idea.

“I will be in your debt, my princess. Knowing this gives me relief. It’s hard to find good people here in the capital.”

“It certainly is. Say hello to Lord Robb from me.” You wished her good travel home but sensed trouble in her.

~~~~~~

“Y/N! Want to spar? I’m so bored and Myrcella is doing lady stuff.” Tommen asked you, holding his little sword.

“That’s not proper for a princess to do and mother doesn’t approve.” Joffrey hissed.

“But father does. We are not useless like yourself, big brother.” You rumpled your brother’s hair. “Let’s go Tommen.” You found Arya in the courtyard with his dancing teacher. “Mind if we join the class?”

“This is Syrio Forel, he is from Braavos.”

“My Princess, my Prince.” He did a small reverence.

“I want to learn how to be a knight!” Tommen said excitedly. After a long time practicing you got tired. Syrio was surprised when he saw the way you wield the wooden blade.

“Natural talent, Princess Y/N.”

“Thank you. My father was the first person that taught me how to properly do it so I can defend myself when there are no guards around. Ser Jaime also instructed me of some techniques.”

“That’s my intent too. Not wearing dresses and attending to councils. I was born for this.” Arya said sure.

“No one will be able to stop you when you are old enough, perhaps not even now.” She grinned.

You could see yourself in this girl, you have a lot in common. She was fearless and didn’t seem to want to marry a lord and live in a castle. You could also see the similarities between Lady Sansa and you. You love to fight and go hunting, use a bow, but you knew how to weave as well, how to properly greet the lords and ladies, and you wished to get married someday. You were a proper daughter, with dignity and manners, your father was always more fond of you, your mother on the other hand... she loved you in her own way, you were the perfect child in everyone’s eyes.

“Lady Sansa, I am happy to know your brother is fine.” You put a hand on her shoulder.

“He won’t be able to walk ever again. But it was a miracle. Thanks for your prayers.” She answered.

“Would you like to visit the Throne Room? Your septa can join us.” She nodded.

“Someday your husband will sit there and you by his side, then you’re going to present your son to the court. All the important people of the Seven Kingdoms will gather here to see the prince.” Septa Mordane stated.

“What if I have a girl?” The Stark inquired.

“If the gods are good you’ll have girls and boys, plenty of them.”

“They all going to be beautiful children. Just like her mother.” You complemented.

“But if I only had girls...”

“The throne will pass to Tommen, my little brother.”

“And everyone will hate me.” She harried said.

“No one could ever hate you, Sansa.” Her septa affirmed.

“Your Septa is right, my lady. I already told you. As your friend, I won’t let anybody speak ill of you. Besides, you are lovely.” You squeezed her hand.

“Thank you, my princess.”

“Sansa, do you remember your lessons? Who built the Iron Throne?”

“Aegon the conqueror.”

“And who built the Red Keep?”

“Maegor the cruel. My grandfather and uncle were murdered here, by orders of the Mad King. Why?”

“You should speak to your father about these matters.”

“You are dismissed.” The old woman left. You walked towards the throne indicating her to follow you.

“Would you like to seat on the throne, my lady? It’s not a comfortable chair but it was forged from the one thousand swords that had been surrendered to Aegon in the War of Conquest by the lords who had offered their fealty, though the actual number of the swords is less than two hundred. These were melted down by the fiery breath of Balerion the Black Dread.” You conclude telling her.

“You seem to like these type of stories, Princess. Your knowledge for the topic is quite vast.” She was surprised yet amused.

“Yes, I enjoy to read and uncle Tyrion told me a lot about this when I was just a little girl. What kind of stories enthralled you, sweet lady?”

“The ones with honorable knights, chivalry and love.” A dreamt sigh left her mouth.

“I like those too. Especially this tale about Ser Florian called Florian the Fool, he was a legendary hero of the Riverlands from the Age of Heroes. He felt in love with a maiden named Jonquil. Singers compared the sudden marriage of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen and Queen Alysanne Targaryen to their great romance.

“I know that one! Is my favorite tale of all time. But I didn’t know they compared them with the Targaryens of that period. It’s very romantic.” She blushed a little.

“And one of the songs... I think this is how it goes, Six maids there were in a spring-fed pool... oh my gods! I sound terrible.”

“No! You have an adorable voice, princess Y/N.” You grinned.

“You are lying! I found that song a bit creepy. He was watching Jonquil and her sisters bathed. The face of the girl turned just like her hair. I didn’t mean to ruin it.” Both of you laughed.

“It’s alright. I still love it.” The throne room was never your favorite place to be, it was hollow and boring. You imagine all the horrible things that happened here. But now with the presence of such a pretty lass it felt different, not gloomy at all.

The next day it was the tournament in the name of Eddard Stark. Though the man didn’t attend. You sat next to the oldest Baratheon boy. Tommen was inpatient so as your father. Lady Sansa smiled at your brother but he looked away, avoiding her completely.

“Is it so hard to be nice at your lady?”

“Shut up.” You return the smile to her. She was half disappointed it wasn’t Joffrey and half happy you did notice her.

“Start the damn joust before I pissed myself!” And the opponents made their appearance. Ready to begin.

#sansa stark x reader #sansa x reader #game of thrones shot #game of thrones fic #got #baratheon reader #sansa x fem baratheon reader

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supernaturalfreewill · 4 years

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Words: 8,085 Sam x Reader Warnings: language (duh), violent scenarios--reader discretion is advised A/N: Part 2 is here and it is a LONG one. This is part of a series. Read Part 1 here first!

Your name: submit What is this?

“What about this one?” your sister asked, holding up a shirt.

You made a face. “No way.”

She sighed at you. “Seriously? Ugh. Are you being difficult on purpose?” she asked, digging through your closet. “Why do you even still have these clothes if you will never wear them?”

“We’re just going to a bar! It’s not a frickin’ red carpet event!” you countered.

She pointed to the shirt she had just dropped onto the continuously growing ‘no’ pile on your bed. “That? No celebrity in their right mind would wear that on the red carpet.” She paused thoughtfully for a moment. “…Maybe Lady Gaga. It’s a casual shirt!”

You laughed. “It is still a no…”

You heard her gasp suddenly and she whirled around with an excited smile on her face. “This. This, this, this!” she said.

“Your eyes will look amaaaazing with this. The color is going to pop. And wear it with those skinny jeans, and that little black motorcycle jacket you have—and these boots!” She grinned at you, nodding eagerly. “Seriously, the jeans show off your butt and this shirt which actually fits you properly is going to accentuate your waist. Trust me. It’s gonna be hot.”

You chewed your bottom lip. You did like that motorcycle jacket… and that shirt did bring out your eyes… but—“Can’t I just wear one of my—”

She interrupted you “—if the next word you say is flannels, I am going to smack you.” Your sister’s cell phone beeped and she hastily looked at the screen before clearing and locking it again. You thought you saw a vague smile on her face.

“Who’s that?” you asked, searching through your closet for your jacket.

“Oh, no one. Just a friend from back home,” she said, waving it off. “Alright. But really. No flannels.”

This only made you laugh and smile guiltily. “Okay! Okay, you win. God. Am I that predictable?” you asked, snatching the shirt from her hands.

“Uhh, yes. That’s why I’m helping you,” she called after you as you went into the bathroom. “Hurry up and get ready! I’m gonna go see what the boys are doing. I’ll see you out front!”

You fixed your hair and make-up and threw on the clothes your sister had suggested and took a look in the mirror. And you had to hand it to her—you liked the way you looked… But still, half of you was dreading going out because you knew it would mean you had to spend an entire evening feeling like your heart was ripped out every time Sam and your sister did something “couple-y.” The other half of you really needed a goddamn drink and a distraction… It seemed like every time you weren’t purposely distracting yourself, your mind wandered back to Sam’s fingers brushing yours as he handed you your coffee, or the way he had so sweetly jumped up to get it for you, sleep still in his eyes. Usually you could talk yourself out of thinking there was meaning in those little moments, but you couldn’t talk yourself out of the way he had been looking at you when you tumbled down on top of him, and how suddenly one of his hands had floated to your lower back and stayed there—you had both been frozen, suspended. God, why am I doing this to myself?! Turning it over and over in your mind wasn’t going to change the fact that he was with someone else. You forced out an exhale, checked your reflection one more time and headed out to the front of the bunker to see if everyone was ready to go.

You weren’t sure why, but you were a little nervous. There were so few occasions when you put on anything other than jeans and a t-shirt or a flannel, or your comfy clothes around the bunker. You stepped into the front room a little hesitantly and Dean was the first one to notice you.

“Y/N, holy shit,” he said, his face cracking into a boyish grin. His green eyes crinkled in a smile. “I mean, you always look good but damn.” You felt your cheeks turning red and covered your face with your hands, laughing at Dean.

“Stop! Shut up!” you protested through nervous laughter. “I don’t deal well with compliments!”

Your sister let out a wolf whistle at you and smiled excitedly. “You look awesome! Do you like it?”

You nodded a little shyly, your cheeks still burning. “I do, actually,” you said, looking down at your boots.

“I told you that you’d look hot. Babe, doesn’t she look hot?!” she said, nudging Sam with an elbow. He had simply been staring at you with a slightly peculiar expression on his face, but this jolted him out of his trance.

“Huh? Yeah. Y/N, you look… you look amazing,” he said. You caught his eyes and he managed to give you a small smile. Your cheeks burned hotter.

Dean could feel some shift in his brother’s mood and he worried that your sister would feel it too. He cleared his throat. “Well, shit. Can I call dibs on you tonight? Forget the hot bartender,” he joked, giving you a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head. “In your dreams, Winchester,” you said playfully.

“Well, actually, sometimes yes...”

“Dean!” you scolded him, your face turning red again. He laughed heartily and your sister gave you a satisfied look. Sam simply looked on, unusually quiet.

Shortly thereafter, you all piled into the Impala and headed to the bar. It was a Friday night, so it was sure to be reasonably busy, and you weren’t surprised to see that the parking lot was almost full. To your sister’s disappointment, ‘the hot bartender’ wasn’t working, which you assured her was perfectly fine… you weren’t just going to throw yourself at someone because they were reasonably attractive and happened to be right in front of you.

You started with a few rounds of pool against Dean, trying to ignore your sister being all over Sam as they watched and sipped their drinks. “You lose again, Dean. Cough it up,” you said, holding your hand out for the $20 he had bet you. “Don’t worry. I’ll just use it to buy us all some drinks,” you said, grinning at him. You turned around to shoot a triumphant look at Sam, who always loved to see Dean lose, but your sister was just leaning in to kiss him, her arms around his neck, and your stomach lurched. You quickly looked away and handed your pool cue to Dean. “So, drinks,” you said, and you hurried away.

You came back with a tray of beers and some shots of whiskey and set it down on the table.

“Losers first,” you said cheekily, handing Dean a shot.

He shot you a half-serious glare. “Oh, I let you win. To make up for knocking you on your ass earlier today.” You flicked him off and grabbed a shot of whiskey.

“Alright. Everyone drink—”

You sister shook her head. “Hell no. You know I don’t drink whiskey,” she said, turning back to her beer.

“You party pooper,” you said playfully. “Fine. Me, Dean, and Sam then.” You held your shot glass up in a toast. “Here’s to those who wish us well, and all the rest can go to hell.”

“Cheers to that,” Dean agreed heartily, and you all drank. After you took your shot, you reached over and threw back the one meant for your sister. The action wasn’t lost on Sam… and Dean caught your eyes and raised his eyebrows at you as you also grabbed a beer off the tray.

“…What?” you asked in an undertone.

“You okay?” he asked hesitantly.

“Fine. Why?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and held up his free hand. “Nothin’. Nevermind!”

The music changed and your sister jumped up off her stool. “Oh, I love this song! Come on, babe!” and she pulled Sam out onto the dance floor.

Dean watched your gaze follow the two of them and then you turned back to the high-top table and focused on putting a serious dent in your beer. “Hey. Take it easy, hot rod,” he said. “What are you doing? Trying to get wasted? Slow it down,” he said with a gruff laugh, shaking his head at you.

“And what if I am?” you asked him.

Dean studied your face for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Y/N…”

You knew that tone and averted your eyes, looking down at the glass in your hands. “I’m not talking about this, especially not here, and not right now,” you said.

Dean sighed heavily. “Come on. Just—try and have some fun tonight, okay? Want to play darts?”

You chewed your bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. “Sure. Right after I grab another drink,” you said, and you downed what was left in your glass. Dean frowned at you, but only watched as you headed up to the bar.

You were waiting for the bartender to get to you when the guy next to you looked your way. You pretended not to notice.

��Hey,” he said. You turned and gave him a quick, tight smile. “Haven’t seen you in here before. I don’t think,” he said. You just raised your eyebrows at him but didn’t say anything. You could feel him checking you out but you again pretended not to notice. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“That’s alright,” you said. “I’m just here with some friends.”

He laughed lightly. “Well, come on. I can still buy you a drink,” he argued. “Please. It’s just one drink.”

“…Fine. Sure. Why not,” you said. “Thanks.” Mostly you just wanted to shut him up.

He smiled at you. “What are you drinking?” he asked, putting a finger up to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Whiskey and coke.”

“Sounds good. I’m Brian,” he said, holding out a hand. You accepted it and shook it briefly.

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you. So, are you from around here?” he asked. You watched as the bartender poured your drinks and wished he would hurry up.

“Not exactly,” you said, trying to give him as little of a response as you could without being outrightly rude.

“What’s that mean?” he asked. Okay… this guy was not giving up.

Thankfully the bartender brought over your drink and you gratefully took it, giving Brian one last tight smile. “Well, thanks for this… my friend is waiting for me so—”

“Oh—well, let him wait,” he said, smiling at you, trying to lay on the charm.

You ignored it. “Thanks again,” you said, and you turned and headed back to Dean.

Dean had seen the whole interaction from across the bar. He and Sam had a tendency to keep a close eye on you and your sister when you were out at the townie bars. Some of the locals could be a little unsavory. “Did you make a new friend up there?”

You rolled your eyes. “He insisted on buying me a drink… so eventually I let him and then I bailed,” you said with a shrug. “Ready? Who’s going first?”

“Mmm. You can go first,” Dean said. He looked over your shoulder in the direction of the bar and could see that the guy was still watching you. Dean purposely stepped between his gaze and you as you lined up with the dart board. Note to self: Keep an eye on that guy, Dean thought.

You shot really well the first round and let out some loud cheers of enjoyment as you went and retrieved your darts, giving Dean a sassy look.

“Alright, don’t get too cocky,” Dean said. “I think in about 15 minutes those shots and that beer are gonna hit you and your aim is going out the window.”

You sipped at your drink. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Dean…”

Well—he was right. You were feeling pretty tipsy as you wrapped up the first game. Dean had beat you, but only barely. You pouted at him. “You’re a cheater,” you accused.

“No, I’m just mostly sober. Alright, why don’t we sit down and have some water,” Dean suggested.

“How about we don’t,” you said, giving him a sassy look and getting up, your empty drink glass in your hand. He gently touched your sleeve and gave you a long look.

“What?” you demanded. Dean sighed.

He shook his head at you. “What do you want? Wait here, and I’ll go up and get it.”

You grinned widely at him. “Two shots,” you said.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you. “Two shots? One for you and one for me?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Both for me. And a beer.”

“Y/N…”

You scoffed. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Dean! Fine, if you won’t get it, I’ll go get it myself—”

“Stop—God! Just wait here. I’ll go get your damn drinks. But you need to slow down. I am NOT gonna let you anywhere near Baby if you might puke,” he said vehemently. “And we do not want you drinking yourself into oblivion.” Actually, that’s kind of exactly what I want, you thought.

You watched him disappear into the crowd toward the bar again. A moment later, Sam and your sister reappeared. She fanned herself with her hand and sat down on the stool beside you.

“Sooooo,” she said.

You shrugged. “So?”

She laughed at you. “Any prospects?”

Sam’s eyes snapped over to your face. You shrugged. “Nope.”

“Well, have you actually talked to anyone?” she pressed.

“I talked to some guy at the bar who bought me a drink,” you said. Sam shifted his weight a little anxiously. “And then I ran away,” you said, giving your sister a wide satisfied smile. She laughed but shook her head at you.

“You might be hopeless, you know that?” she said. One song ended and another started with some familiar twanging chords. Her face lit up.

You shook your head fast. “No!”

“Pleeeeease,” she said, grabbing your arm. “Please, please, pleaaaaase. Come dance! One song!”

“You know I don’t dance,” you countered.

“You have to! It’s like an unwritten rule that we have to dance to this song.” She put on her best pleading puppy eyes and a laugh bubbled up from you.

“Oh my God… You’re the worst!” you said, laughing.

“Pleeeeease, sis! Come on! Live a little!”

“Oh my God… FINE!” you relented.

“YES!” she jumped up, gave Sam a peck on the cheek and grabbed your hand. “We’ll be back,” she said grinning.

“Just give me a second—here comes Dean with more drinks,” you said. “You’re lucky I’m half-drunk right now. Sober me never would have agreed to this,” you teased her. Sam felt his brow furrow reflexively, but neither you nor your sister noticed.

“You like it,” she retorted. “If it weren’t for me, you’d never have any fun.”

Dean was back and you grabbed a shot off the tray. “Oh, thank god. More courage juice,” you said downing it, and then you let your sister drag you out onto the dance floor. Sam and Dean watched the two of you head out, happily bouncing around and singing. Dean shook his head and laughed a low gruff laugh. Sam’s brow was wrinkled with concern. “Well, this is probably going to lead to trouble,” Dean said, sipping at his beer. Sam swallowed hard.

“Yeah… what’s up with Y/N?” Sam asked after a long moment.

Dean shrugged and pulled a face, the corners of his mouth pressed down.

“She just—she seems like she’s making a pretty good effort to get drunk,” Sam said.

“Seems like she is succeeding,” Dean replied. “Maybe you should ask her about it. That’s out of my jurisdiction.” He sipped his beer again and watched the turmoil in his brother’s eyes.

The song ended and you laughed as your sister threw an arm around you. She fanned herself with her hand again. “It’s hot. Let’s get some air,” she said, and the two of you headed outside and breathed in the cool night air. You looked up at the stars, innumerable, and sighed. You noticed it was a little difficult to keep them from looking like they were spinning. You sister was checking her phone, sitting on a concrete bollard, swinging her feet. She looked back at you and smiled.

“Thanks for dancing with me. That was fun.”

You nodded, leaning back against the wall to steady yourself, and staring out over the parking lot. “It was.” You heaved in a deep breath. A comfortable silence stretched between you for a long moment.

“So, uhh… Dean was being pretty flirty with you earlier,” she said. You snapped around to look at her and she raised her eyebrows at you.

“The definition of ‘Dean’ is flirty,” you said with a laugh.

She cocked her head at you. “Well… maybe. You ever think about—”

You busted out laughing. “You can’t be serious! Oh my God! Let me stop you right there. No! Absolutely not!"

“Why not?!” she exclaimed. “I mean, he’s hot, he’s funny, smart, and totally available—you two seem to have a good time together! And he obviously cares about you.”

You stared at her with your mouth hanging open and a queer expression on your face.

“And then someday I could get married to Sam and you could marry Dean,” she joked. “It’d be like a bad 90’s movie!” she laughed. “Two sisters marrying two brothers.”

You shook your head at her with another loud laugh. “You are so off base right now—I can’t even find the words. Look, I love Dean, but we’re just friends! I don’t feel that way about him.”

“Well, maybe you should,” she said wiggiling her eyebrows at you. You gave her a skeptical look and shook your head.

“Look, I don’t need to be dating someone,” you said. “I don’t understand this crusade you are on to attach me to someone. I’m totally fine.”

She sighed and stretched, a soft frown on her lips. “So you say. Well, I need another drink. You coming in?” she asked.

“I’ll be in soon. Still hot,” you said. You were enjoying the cool evening air on your face and the smell of green, summer grass. You leaned back against the wall, feeling a little unsteady, relishing the dreamy, slightly fuzzy feeling in your head of being buzzed.

“Alright. See you in there.”

You let your mind drift and inevitably it drifted back to Sam…

Your sister appeared back at the table with the Winchesters and grabbed an unclaimed beer Dean had bought.

“Hey, where’s Y/N?” Sam asked curiously.

“Oh, we stepped out front to get some fresh air. She said she’d be in soon.”

Sam’s brow contracted down low over his eyes. “You left her out there alone? What the hell were you thinking?” he asked forcefully.

You sister was taken aback by his tone and answered angrily. “She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself,” she scoffed.

“She’s drunk,” Sam replied a little heatedly, immediately getting up and pushing through the crowd, heading through the front door. You looked over as the door opened up and straightened up when you saw it was Sam.

“Hey,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, relief washing over him as he saw you were okay.

“Hi,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Oh—just—you shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said.

You gave him a half-smile and tilted your head. “I’m fine.”

“Well… you’ve been drinking kind of a lot tonight. Just—want to be sure you’re safe,” he said.

You considered his thoughtful expression and nodded. “I see.” Your eyes turned back out to gaze across the parking lot.

Sam clenched and unclenched his hand in his pocket. “…why are you drinking so much?” he asked. “I mean, you usually are more of a two-beer kind of person.”

You looked over at him and Sam thought your expression was a little sad. You shrugged. “No reason.” And you didn’t say anything more, though Sam wished you would. You stood and started back toward the front door of the bar, and Sam held it open for you, walking with your through the crowd of people toward your table.

“Thanks. I’ll be back. Just gonna go use the restroom,” you said, and you broke off from Sam toward the back of the bar.

Inside, Dean had been sitting in silence across from your sister, completely at a loss for what to say, simply staring into his beer. The awkward silence was interrupted when Sam arrived back at the table. Your sister looked up at him.

“She’s fine. She’s just going to use the restroom,” Sam said. “You really shouldn’t have left her alone out there,” he scolded your sister again. “You know how much she’s been drinking tonight.”

Dean tried to intervene. “Sammy—”

Your sister’s jaw clenched. “Funny—she seems to be just fine.” The tension stretched for some time and was almost unbearable. Dean was thinking about a way to escape when he suddenly felt a friendly hand on his back.

“What’s up?” Your voice from behind him, a little slurred but very much fine. You squeezed in between Dean and your sister at the high-top table and grabbed the last shot that was sitting unclaimed on the tray and downed it. You chased it with a deep drink from your beer. That’s when you noticed everyone was staring at you and that there was some tension you didn’t understand.

“What?”

Dean rubbed a hand awkwardly over the stubble on his chin. Your sister got up abruptly and rushed off in the direction of the bathroom. You watched her go in confusion and looked back at the Winchesters. Sam was staring at you with some unreadable expression, and Dean seemed to be avoiding your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“You should go check on her,” Dean said pointedly to you.

“What? Why?”

“Just—go check on her.” You shrugged and obliged, turning right back around and heading in the direction your sister had gone, putting a hand out to steady yourself as you reached the hallway to the restrooms. God, the booze was catching up with you.

Dean gave Sam a disappointed look and shook his head. “Dude. I mean, what the hell...”

“Well—she shouldn’t have left her out there alone,” Sam argued, leaning heavily on the table, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do you disagree?”

Dean just stared at him. “No, but Sam… You have to get this under control or do something about it. That was almost too obvious…”

Sam just tried to unclench his jaw.

In the bathroom you tried to coax your sister out of a stall and get her to tell you why there had been so much tension suddenly. You finally succeeded in the first, but not the second. When she came out, she checked her reflection in the mirror, washed her hands, and gave you a forced smile. “I’m fine,” she said.

You gave her a skeptical and incredulous look. “Will you please tell me what the fuck all that was about?”

“It’s nothing,” she said. “Come on.” You followed her back out to your table and some of the tension seemed to have abated, although you noticed that Sam wouldn’t really look at her—or anyone. He was just staring down into the tawny liquid in his glass.

“Dean—” you pulled a quarter out of your pocket. “Wanna play?” you asked with a goofy, wide grin.

“Quarters? You want to play quarters,” he said. “…Now?”

“Why, what’s the problem? Are you scaaared?” you teased him.

“Y/N, you’re already drunk. This is a terrible idea,” he said.

Your face fell and your smile disappeared. “Alright, why doesn’t everyone just stop trying to babysit me and start treating me like I’m a fucking adult who can make their own decisions? Jesus…” you shoved your hand back into your pocket and went up to the bar to get another drink.

“I’ll go talk to her,” your sister said, giving Dean a grimace and sliding off her stool.

Dean watched her go after you. "Well, tonight is going fucking great, huh?" he said, looking to Sam. Sam was trying hard not to keep glancing up at you but was finding it difficult. “Hey,” Dean said, hitting him lightly on the arm. “Let’s play darts or something, hmm?”

“What?”

“Darts? Pool?” Sam didn’t say anything. “You can’t just sit here and stare all night, Sam. You’re just torturing yourself. Come on. I’ll bet you $20 I kick your ass at pool.” Sam cast one final look in your direction and nodded to Dean.

Your sister squeezed in next to you at the bar and you glanced over at her. “Are you going to lecture me about my drinking too?”

She laughed. “No. Honestly, I’m glad to see you let yourself go for once,” she said, bumping you with her elbow. You were waiting to order when the bartender came over and set two tequila shots down in front of you and your sister.

“We didn’t order this,” you said.

“I know. It’s from the guy over there,” the bartender said, indicating toward the end of the bar. You leaned forward and looked down to see the guy you had met earlier, Brian, staring in your direction.

You looked away and rolled your eyes. “That’s the guy who was hitting on me earlier,” you said to your sister. “Who bought me a drink.”

“Hmm.” Your sister leaned forward and seized him up. “Free booze though, so what the hell, right?” You both downed your shot. “Come on. I want to dance some more!” She grabbed your hand and tugged you back out on the dance floor. You gave in and tried to let go of your bad mood.

After dancing for a few more song you needed a break. The bar was starting to clear out a little; it was getting late. You hated to admit if but you were definitely drunk. Much to your dismay though, it was not distracting you from your feelings about Sam… You arrived back at the table and immediately reached for another beer, hoping that if you just kept drinking maybe you wouldn't think so much, or feel so much, or care so much. Sam and Dean were taking a break between games of pool and Dean gave you a look. “What?” you asked, dubious.

“I really don’t think you need anything more,” Dean said, giving you a classic Dean half-smirk.

“Since when do you get to boss me around, Winchester,” you said, poking him in the chest with a finger. Dean was at least relieved that you hadn't gotten mad this time...

“Since you have to ride home in my car, which I prefer vomit-free.”

You pouted at him. “I’m not gonna get sick! I’m not even that drunk…” you argued.

“Famous last words of a drunk person,” Dean said.

You looked over at Sam. “Sam, help me out here?”

He looked uneasy. “…maybe you should slow down,” Sam said gently, his brow knit with concern.

You leaned on the table, continuing to pout.

“I’ll get the table ready, Sammy,” Dean said, heading over to claim a free table, leaving the two of you alone a little strategically.

The silence stretched a moment before Sam gave you a tight smile. “Are you, uhh, having fun?”

“Yeah. Sort of,” you said, nodding and leaning more heavily on the table.

Sam’s brow contracted low over his eyes. “Sort of?”

“Well—when my sister isn’t trying to set me up with people I have more fun…” you said, with a wry laugh.

Sam stomach twisted a little at the thought. One of these days you would find someone—it was inevitable. You were funny, smart, beautiful, fun to be around, easy to talk to… it was only a matter of time. “She does seem to be pretty bent on it, huh?” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah.” A grin spread across your face. “Get this. She even tried to suggest that I date Dean,” you laughed.

“Really?” Sam asked, forcing out a small laugh. Truthfully, he didn’t find the premise amusing at all. A jealous monster roared to life in his chest, just as it had when he watched you and Dean spar earlier in the day.

“How weird would that be? I mean, he’s like a brother to me,” you said. You paused thoughtfully. A tight lump formed in Sam’s throat. If you felt that way about Dean, didn’t it only make sense you felt that way about him? Had he imagined there was something in all those little moments? “Are—are you having fun?” you asked Sam, your voice and face suddenly a bit serious. You could read something in his mood and were already predisposed not to believe his answer, sensing that something was bothering him.

“Yeah,” he answered, a little too quickly, and it sounded forced even to his own ears.

You nodded, your eyes flickering over his face. His were drawn to yours magnetically and he nervously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You know, umm… you really do look nice,” he said. A smile grew on your lips.

“Thanks,” you said. He thought he saw a spark return to your eyes.

“But, you know, I also agree with what Dean said earlier—I think you always look nice. Even when you’re just wearing those pajama pants with the hippos on them.” A small smile tugged on his lips and you noticed that it reached all the way to the corners of his eyes. You could have melted right then and there. You laughed a little bashfully, heat rising in your face, and your lips fell partially open. You were searching for something to say but you felt completely paralyzed and the only thing you could think about was how fast your heart was racing and how much you just wanted to grab him and kiss him and— “Sam! Table’s ready!” Sam gave you one last warm look and followed Dean over to the pool table. You watched him go feeling a little like your heart was alternating between soaring and dropping into your stomach, chewing your bottom lip.

You glanced back over your shoulder and saw your sister up at the bar still. “Hey,” you said, joining her. “You know, I really didn’t want to come out tonight. But for once I am glad you forced me to do something,” you joked.

“I know,” you sister said with a smile. She considered you a moment. “Your cheeks are all flushed,” she laughed. “What have you been up to?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“What?” you felt yourself warming even more. Sam’s face flashed in your mind. “Nothing! I’m just warm—from—because we were dancing!”

“You sure?” She said, accepting her beer from the bartender. You shot her an annoyed look. The dance floor had cleared out pretty well and you were both in need of ice water and a break anyway, but the bar area was still crowded and you found yourself squeezing in between the other patrons. Your sister got impatient waiting for the bartender to get back around to you and was glancing alternately at her phone and toward the door to outside.

“Don’t do it,” you said, shaking your head at her and giving her a stern look.

She gave you a guilty smile. “But I reeeeally want one.”

“You always want a smoke when you drink,” you scolded her. “It’s disgusting and literally killing you.”

“I know, I know—but… I’m just gonna pop outside for one. I swear, just one,” she said. “Get me some water when he finally gets back to you? Thanks!”

“Do you even have one?!” you yelled after her, but she was already gone. You sighed and turned your attention back to the bar top, leaning heavily on it and realizing all of a sudden that you really were pretty damn drunk… You should not have done those last shots. You passed a hand over your eyes and tried to stop your vision from spinning, deciding that you really, actually should drink water for the rest of the night. You also realized you really had to pee. Screw this, you thought, and you left the bar behind to head for the bathroom.

You washed your hands and checked your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair, wiping a smudge of eyeliner away. All of a sudden it was like all the alcohol hit you at once and you felt like everything around you was wavering. You stepped out into the hallway, one hand on the wall to steady yourself, and stopped to take a breath. Fuck. I should have listened to Sam and Dean. I hate when they’re right. It felt like the floor was moving beneath your feet. “Fancy meeting you here again.” You looked over to see the same guy from earlier again. Brian. Great…

“Imagine that…” you said, noncommittally, straightening up.

“You look like you need some air,” he said. “Too much to drink?” The hairs stood up on the back of your neck. Had he been watching you the whole night? Had he followed you back here and waited for you to come out of the bathroom? Your heart started to race a little faster. The bathrooms were in a narrow hallway at the back of the bar. It felt isolated, tacked on the end of the building. You couldn’t even see any of the other patrons due to the position of a nearby corner, but you could hear the dull, rolling sound of loud conversation loudly.

“Actually, I’m just heading back to my friends,” you said, turning to leave. Fuck, you were unsteady on your feet. But you knew well enough to trust your gut when that tingle ran up your spine, drunk or sober. You abruptly felt a strong hand on your arm and you whipped around to see him smirking at you. He was holding onto you tightly, so tight it hurt a little. Your heart rushed with rising panic.

“Actually, I think you should stay. I bought you a few drinks… The least you could do would be have a decent conversation with me. The least,” he repeated. He flashed you a grin that made your stomach turn. “I like the way you moved out there,” he said. “You should show me what else you’ve got.”

You tried to pull your arm from his grasp but he only held on more tightly. Your temper flared instantly. “Get the fuck off me,” you said dangerously. He didn’t like that response. He pushed you back into the wall behind you and pinned you there, grabbing tightly onto your upper arms. You were stunned for a couple seconds from the forcefulness of your head and back hitting the wall. The next thing you knew he was pressing himself into you, his hips against your body, trying to kiss your neck. You could feel his breath on your skin. “No! Get the fuck off!” You yelled it as loud as you could. You managed to use a knee to push him away from you and then ripped yourself loose from his grasp. You started to rush toward the main part of the bar but your momentum was stopped when he grabbed the back of your jacket, and you almost lost your balance. Thankfully, Sam and Dean had heard your yell clear as day and came rushing toward the sound of your voice.

You were again grappling with the guy, trying to get away and he was practically snarling in your face. “I’ll show you what I have a right to,” he said dangerously, through clenched teeth. Suddenly, Sam was right there and he pushed the guy off you, sending him back into the wall hard.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Sam was right up in the guy’s face. Dean reached you and wrapped an protectively arm around your shoulders, supporting you as your knees seemed to have gone a little shaky. Your chest was heaving in with scared breaths and your eyes were wide.

“Mind your own fucking business—” he snarled back, righting himself.

“I am,” Sam said forcefully. He cocked a fist back and punched the guy in the jaw. He crumpled to the side, swearing and came back up swinging but Sam hit him again and he slumped down onto the floor, holding his face.

Dean also looked ready to throttle the guy, but he wasn’t getting back up. You just wanted to get out of there.

Sam was standing over him, heaving in breaths, his fists clenched and shaking with anger. You gently said his name and it was like a switch flipped. “Sam.” His eyes snapped to your face. He stepped back, away from the guy, and turned to you, still blocking you protectively, a shield between you and him. “Are you alright?” he asked. All you could do was nod, but your eyes were still wide and wild-looking.

“Let’s go. Please, let’s just go,” you said softly. Sam nodded, shooting one last glance back at the guy who was still on his ass on the floor, and followed you and Dean down the hall back into the main room. Your sister was sitting at your table, apparently oblivious but she jumped up when she saw Dean leading you out with an arm around your shoulders and the stunned expression on your face.

“Oh my God. What happened?” she asked rushing over to you and the boys.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “I told you not to leave her alone,” he said through clenched teeth.

Your sister looked bewildered by his tone. “What? I went out for a smoke. She was at the bar when I went out—what happened?” she urged. Dean offered you his glass of ice water, which you accepted. “Do you want me to call the cops?” he asked you.

“The cops? Y/N—what happened?” your sister asked again desperately.

Sam bit his cheek. “If you’d been with her, you would know.”

Your eyes shot up to Sam’s face. “It’s not her fault, Sam,” you said, trying to mollify his anger. “I went back there on my own. And—I’m fine. It’s no one’s fault,” you added, though your voice was a little shaky.

“Except that douchebag,” Dean said, anger clear in his voice. He finally lifted his arm from around your shoulders.

You could tell your sister was extremely upset by Sam’s accusations, and from piecing together what had just transpired. The next second she bolted away from the table, hurrying to get outside. Dean gave Sam a disapproving and pointed look. Sam simply averted his eyes back onto your face. Dean sighed heavily. “I’ll—I’ll go check on her." He felt like that was the fiftieth time someone had said that tonight. Are you okay?” he asked you again. “Seriously, do you want me call the cops? You could press charges on that guy.”

You just shook your head. “No. I don’t want to deal with it being a whole thing. And hopefully Sam taught him enough of a lesson. I just want to go home.”

Dean nodded and gave your hand a light squeeze. “Thank God you’re okay,” he said. He headed for the exit. You sat there, staring down at the condensation dripping down on the outside of the ice water glass, but you could feel Sam’s eyes on you.

“How’s your hand?” you asked him.

“Huh?” Sam looked at his hand and there was definite swelling across the knuckles, but he flexed and squeezed his fingers a few times. “It’s totally fine.”

You swallowed, trying to rid your throat of the uncomfortable lump that had formed there. “Don’t be mad at her, Sam. None of this is her fault.”

His jaw clenched. “I already told her to keep an eye on your earlier tonight,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s still not her fault.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. You had just been assaulted and you were worrying about his relationship? He sighed heavily. “I know. You’re right. I was out of line. I just—I’m… scared. And angry.”

You nodded. “I know.” Dean was striding back over to the table but without your sister.

“She said she just wants a little space. She’s smoking a cigarette out there,” he said. You nodded.

“Uhh,” Dean ran a hand through his hair a little anxiously. “I’m gonna go clear the pool table and I’ll get the tab,” Dean said, looking to you and Sam.

“I want to get out of here,” you muttered, your eyes subconsciously flickering back toward the hallway that led to the restrooms. You looked up at Sam and he nodded before turning to Dean.

“We’ll meet you out at the Impala.”

You exchanged a tight smile with your sister as you walked out into the parking lot. She blew a cloud of smoke from her cigarette and returned it, but her eyes left yours quickly and you noticed how she was anxiously bouncing a knee.

“You guys were right,” you said to Sam as you reached the Impala. You leaned up against the passenger side door, looking out over the nearly empty lot. “I shouldn’t have been drinking so much. That was...stupid,” you said.

His eyes snapped over to you. “Hey—you being drunk does not give that guy an excuse. If anything, it makes it worse. He was trying to take advantage of a situation that made you a little more vulnerable. Like you said, it’s no one’s fault, except his. That includes you.” You watched the muscle in his jaw tense. "I could have killed that guy." His voice was vehement and how he wanted you to meet his eyes so he could study the flecks of color in them and try to read what you were thinking. Every time he thought about the scene he and Dean had rushed into his heart plummeted. What if they hadn’t been able to hear you yell? The thought was just too horrible. He felt sick.

You shuffled a boot on the ground, kicking at a small rock and sending it skittering across the pavement. “Yeah. I know.” The silence stretched for a moment before you looked up at the stars. They were no longer wavering or shimmering—your fear and adrenaline had apparently sobered you up quickly.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The ride back to the bunker was tense, and even the classic rock wailing out from the speakers couldn’t deafen the anxious feeling hanging in the air. When you got home, although you were tired, you knew sleep wasn’t going to come, so you trudged into the library and flopped down on the couch, carelessly pulling off your boots. You leaned back and sighed, your eyes tracing the familiar architecture of the ceiling and the brick archways.

You heard some mumbled exchanges of ‘goodnight’ between Sam, Dean, and your sister, but soft footsteps behind you announced that someone else wasn’t planning on sleep either. You looked over your shoulder to see Sam standing a little awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hey,” you said. Then turning around to look at him more fully. “You okay?”

He let out a dry, sardonic laugh. “I should be asking you that,” he said, stepping more fully into the library and coming around the couch to sit in a nearby chair.

“I’m alright,” you said. “Just—a little too keyed up for sleep I think.”

He nodded. “That makes sense.” Sam’s heart was pounding again as he looked at you. Your eyes flickered down to a reddish-purple bruise forming on his hand, which was resting on his knee. You sat up abruptly and leaned forward.

“Sam,” you said sternly, gently pulling his hand closer to you so you could examine it. You gave him a disapproving look but all Sam could feel was your fingers on his skin.

“It’s fine. Really. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Mhm,” you replied skeptically. “Stay here. You need to ice that.” You climbed to your feet and headed into the kitchen. Dean was eating chips and drinking a glass of water, leaning casually back against the island, staring down at his phone. He looked up as you came in and opened the freezer.

“Hey,” he said. “You alright?” his brow drew down.

“For fuck’s sake, will you two stop asking me that? I’m fine,” you said, grabbing a cold pack out and wrapping it in a dish towel.

“Y/N. That was some seriously scary shit. It’s okay to not be okay,” Dean said. You looked at him seriously and after a moment smiled at him.

“I know,” you said. “But really, I’m okay. Thanks to you and Sam.”

Dean nodded, still a little uneasy.

“Sam, however, seems to have fucked up his hand,” you announced, brandishing the cold pack.

“Mmmm,” Dean said nodding, crunching on another chip. “That second hit was a hell of a punch.” He raised his eyebrows pointedly at you, but you only tore your eyes away, feeling a little rush of heat in the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It was. Anyway. You going to bed soon?”

“I think so. After my midnight snack,” he said, a boyish grin on his face. He crunched loudly on another chip.

“Alright, well, goodnight,” you said, quickly grabbing him in a tight hug. You headed back out to the library. “Here,” you said, holding the ice pack out to Sam. “Twenty minutes with that. It’ll help.”

Sam thanked you and rested it across his hand before sighing heavily. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your face. He felt like he was on his tiptoes on the edge of a precipice, teetering and trying to keep his balance. “Hey,” he said. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and something about the tone sent his voice through you, like a shot to the heart. Your eyes lifted and met his, a questioning expression on you face. “You ever just wonder if—” he cut himself off abruptly, using his uninjured hand to anxiously rub across his forehead. He stalled out, biting his bottom lip anxiously.

Your heart was beating faster and you waited patiently for him to go on, but he couldn’t. “If…?” you prodded him.

He sighed heavily again and ripped his eyes from yours, looking back down at his hands. “Eh...nothing. Nevermind,” he said. He took a step back from the precipice, fear overwhelming him, bad timing overwhelming him.

You studied his expression, your eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly, trying to puzzle out what he had been about to say and why he had stopped, but you found no answers. Simply for something to do, Sam picked up a book from the side table and set it in his lap. He dutifully turned pages, his eyes scanning the text, reading, but he heard none of it.

At some point, your eyelids became heavy and you laid down on the couch, your knees slightly bent, hugging one of the throw pillows. Sam watched your breathing grow deeper and heavier and shut the book in his lap, replacing it silently on the side table, discarding the cold pack for his hand, and climbing to his feet. He grabbed the quilt off the back of the chair he had been sitting in and gently covered you up. Then he made the lonely walk back to his bedroom… hoping that your sister was already asleep, so he could simply drift off with that image of you safe and sound peacefully asleep on the couch, in his mind, uncontaminated by the reality that he was going to sleep in the wrong bed.

Part 3 here!

#sammy fanfic #sam x reader #sam winchester #spn fanfics #sammy angst #supernatural #the wrong bed

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eiirisworkshop · 4 years

Text

DragonCon Gothic

-You are in the food court going to the Hilton. You take the sky bridge. You are in the Marriott. You take the other sky bridge. You are in the Hyatt. You take the sky bridge. You are in the food court.

-You are in a Very Serious Panel discussing First Amendment Law. You hear Gangnam Style through the wall.

-You hear a woman scream. She runs. She hugs Darth Vader. She is fine.

-You hear a woman scream. The escalator is eating her ballgown. It tears. The Addams Family comes to her rescue. Supergirl mends the gown. She is fine.

-You hear a man scream. His dragonhide stiletto has gone through the grate in the broken Atlanta pavement. He falls. Six anime characters and a Harley Quinn come to his rescue. He...will be fine tomorrow.

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her baby is a Togapi strapped to her front.

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her children are the Pikachu evolutionary line.

-A mother is dressed as Misty from Pokémon. Her baby is a Magikarp. Years later you see a young Garydose. You remember the baby. You wonder.

-There is an hour wait at the Hardrock. You go to the food court instead. It takes an hour to find a table.

-You are in the overflow seating for the food court. It used to be a Mexican restaurant. You look at the broken floor, the missing ceiling tiles, the shelf hanging crooked on the wall by one last screw. It has not changed since last year, or the year before, or the year before that.... You wonder why nothing new has used the space. You wonder where you would sit if anything ever did.

-There is...a character. You’ve seen it twenty times today. You have no idea what it’s from. You are scared to ask.

-There is a character. You have never seen it before. You tell the cosplayer they look great and ask what they are. They excitedly tell you the life story of this fictional person. They finish then hurry to catch back up with their friends. They never told you what it’s from.

-There is a wolf in the Marriott. An actual wolf. It is a service dog. You want to pet it. You spend the next half hour helping prevent drunk pikachus and storm troopers from petting the wolf.

-You are on MARTA with Spider-Man.

-You are on MARTA in cosplay. The train is full of sports fans. You feel the way they look at you, like you are a freak, like their jersey and face paint is any different from your costume. You all exit at peachtree station. The platform is full of Sailor Scouts and Doctors Who. The sports fans realize they are outnumbered. Some of them are afraid. Some of them will be dressed as the joker next year.

-Someone is crying in the bathroom. They just want to get their contacts out.

-Someone is crying in the bathroom. They were too far back in line, the room filled, they didn’t get to see David Tennant.

-Someone cries for help in the bathroom. It’s a variation of Spider-Man you have never seen before. She can’t unzip her suit. You help her. She is drunk and swears she will see you again next year and buy you a drink. You see her next year. She gives you a glow stick.

-There is a woman in a Marriott Carpet dress. There is a Sailor Marriott with the Carpet pattern on their fuku. The Marriott Flying Carpets quidditch team has the pattern on their robes. There is a car painted like the Carpet. There is a vendor selling Cult of the Carpet merch. The Carpet is copyrighted. You hear there is a lawsuit. The Marriott hasn’t had that carpet in years. You’ve been walking through the Marriott all day. You have no idea what the carpet looks like now.

-There is a character. You’ve seen it twelve times today. You have no idea what it’s from. You see it for a thirteenth time alongside another character from the same thing. You know both characters. You know the entire life story of the character you’ve seen thirteen times.

-You want to go to a panel. You find five simultaneous panels. You narrow it down to two. You go to neither of them.

-You want to go to a panel. You find five simultaneous panels. You narrow it down to two. You go to a sixth because it is in the hotel you’re already in.

-You want to go to the burlesque. You meant to go to the burlesque last year. They move the burlesque. Everyone gets there before you. You do not go to the burlesque this year.

-You are in the Dealer’s Room. You want to buy a sword. A vender hands you a D-20 die made of gemstone. You roll it. You nat 20. You spend $100 on stone dice. You do not buy a sword.

-There are hundreds of men in kilts. This is normal. A woman chases them with a leaf blower. This is normal. You would worry if she weren’t there.

-There is an ambulance outside the Sheraton. You hope everyone is okay. You think there was an ambulance here last year. You can’t remember.

-You are in the Walk of Fame. You meet your hero. They are the sweetest person you have ever met.

-You are in the Walk of Fame. You meet your hero. They’re a creep.

-You are in the Walk of Fame. There is almost no line for George Takei. You do not understand why. You talk to him. He is the sweetest person you have ever met.

-There are hateful protesters outside the food court. No one can hear them. Darth Vader is playing bagpipes.

-You walk past a woman wearing a censor bar and pants. You walk past her again After Dark. She is no longer wearing a censor bar. Or pants.

-You are at the Yule Ball. It is a fun, family party. The Golden Trio run by in their Hogwarts robes. They are too young to go to Hogwarts.

-You are at the Yule Ball. It has just hit ten o’clock. The children are escorted out. The lights go down. A belly dancing elf pulls out a flask. You don’t know from where.

-You are at the Yule Ball. Batman is on a date with Sailor Moon. He asks if he can kiss her. She says no. He leaves. She dances with the elf, then with Madam Hooch.

-You are at a panel. Someone has the mic. There is feedback. The sound guy tries to fix it. There is still feedback. The sound guy tries again. There is still feedback. There is always feedback. No one blames the sound guy.

-You need an elevator to go down. An elevator arrives. It is going up. You get on. You go up fourteen floors then go down. You clutch the handrail in the zero gravity.

-A drag queen who is not a drag queen compliments your cosplay. You almost buy a corset from him.

-Your shoes are not comfortable but they go with your cosplay. You’ve been walking for hours. Your feet hurt.

-You are wearing your most comfortable shoes. You’ve been walking for hours. Your feet hurt.

-You’ve wanted to do this cosplay for years. You’ve been working on it for months. You finished it last night.

-You poured your soul into this cosplay. No one has recognized it all day. Someone thought you were Robin Williams. You return to your hotel, blocks away from the heart of the con. The night porter compliments your cosplay by name. You are Validated.

-There is someone checking into the Marriott in a suit. A battalion of Storm Troopers pass. The person in a suit looks confused, maybe scared. The person behind the desk is unfazed.

-You are in the Marriott where the Blood Drive used to be. The Blood Drive hasn’t been here in years. You still think of this place as where the Blood Drive used to be. You still think vampire costumes should be mandatory for the Blood Drive crew.

-A Blood Drive volunteer tells your group you should donate. Most of you are gay. Two of you have new tattoos. One of you just returned from abroad. The rest have medical conditions. None of you have eaten in hours. None of you can give blood.

-You are in the Marriott where the Blood Drive used to be. A chorus of elves are singing, each of them carrying a lantern. They are beautiful. You are almost moved to tears. They are a chorus of angels, except they are elves, and the only angels you’ve seen all weekend are Castiel and Aziraphale, neither of whom seem to sing. The elves leave. BB-8 appears, followed by R2. The droids interact with the crowd. A small girl dressed as Leia pats BB-8 on the head. A second BB-8 approaches her, then a third, then a fourth tiny BB-8. The girl is delighted. It is adorable. You are moved to tears.

-You had the con crud last year. You do not want it again. You load yourself up with vitamin C and zinc. By Sunday your throat is raw. You have the con crud. You will have it next year too.

-You are in the CVS on Peachtree. The rest of the con is there too. You are buying tissues and cough drops. So are they. You all have the con crud.

-You see a badge on the floor. You are overcome with dread. You check your own badge. It’s still there. You exhale in relief. Your heart breaks for a stranger you have never seen.

-You buy a piece of jewelry and put it on. You go to a panel. Your jewelry is gone. You don’t know what happened. There is nothing to be done. You may go back to the vender tomorrow if you still have money. You may not.

-You are at a panel. The panelist makes a sex joke, then realizes there are children in the room. They apologize profusely to the parents while the children giggle. Five minutes later, it happens again.

-You see a character. You ask your friend where it’s from. “Anime,” they say. That explains nothing. That explains everything.

-A ducky squeaks in the distance.

-It is Monday. It hits five o’clock. Everyone is chased out of the venders hall. In the hotels, the Hunger Games breaks out over luggage carts. The crowds and madness disperse. The city is as quiet as it ever is. The con is over. You must return to the real world. You’re not sure you know how, but you’ll be okay. You begin to plan for next year.

#DragonCon #Dragon Con #dragon*con #dragoncon gothic #marriott carpet #cult of the carpet #long post #eiiri made this

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clintbartonswife · 4 years

Text

lips that sing

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier, Cirilla Summary: Now that Geralt knows it’s Jaskier, he’s scared he’ll be rejected again. Geralt just wants his damn bard back. Notes: part two of eyes that plead masterlist

Geralt would later deny the wounded noise that escaped his lips as he stared down at Jaskier, his hands hesitatingly hovering over his body.

“What - how?”

The wolf seemed to sigh, his head lolling back on to the dirt ground defeatedly. The expression on it’s face one he had seen many times before, mostly accompanied with the phrase ‘destiny’s a bitch’.

Deciding to put aside questioning until he could receive what he was sure would be extremely lengthy answers, Geralt returned to kneeling at Jaskier’s side, placing his sword in the sheath on his back before carefully picking him up in his arms.

Jaskier let out a half hearted growl, body tensing in his arms.

Geralt frowned at this, confused. Jaskier knew who he was - knew that he wouldn't hurt him - so why was he acting defensively? He checked his hold on the wolf, making sure he wasn't hurting him, before standing up and heading back to the clearing, mind racing.

Now that he was this close, he could smell it was Jaskier - the familiar scent of honey and wildflowers dulled behind that of wet dog , but still there all the same. Another scent, less pleasant than those Jaskier usually smelt of, one which had his nose scrunching up in distate was that of sour rotting lemons, one which he had never scented on the bard before.

Fear.

The sense of unease from earlier only grew in Geralt’s chest as he lay Jaskier down on his bedroll, eyes quickly darting to Ciri to make sure she was alright.

Jaskier had never smelt of fear around him before, he was sure of it. Not even -

He stopped mid-thought, remembering the previous night, and Jaskier’s growl when the mountains were mentioned. The repressed memory brought with it the knowledge that he had smelt it on his bard before: the exact day he ruined everything.

Jaskier was afraid of him.

As soon as Jaskier was back in human form, he had decided the first thing he would like to do is smack a tree. Or destiny, if possible. Or both. Because fuck destiny.

He had been so close to freedom when that tree - probably prompted by destiny, damn that bitch to hell - decided it was a good time to shed a branch, right on to his head, no less. As he lie there, cursing at the skies above, who else would show up but Geralt, the very man he did not want to see.

Fear washed over him as the realisation filtered through the Witcher’s eyes, his name escaping his lips in a shocked gasp, stilted questions following.

‘Fuck’ he thought, head lolling back in defeat, ‘if he wasn't going to kill me before, he’s definitely going to now. Why couldn't I have just left as soon as we found him’

He withheld his shock as Geralt leant over to pick him up, almost cradling him in his arms, tensing in shock.

‘Is he going to throw me?’ Jaskier thought wildly, mind racing as they began to move back through the forest, ‘Chuck me in a lake? Feed me to wolves? - Wait’

Jaskier’s thoughts were cut off as he noticed the clearing, Ciri’s sleeping form entering his sight. His body sighed in relief, slightly relaxing as he was placed gently on the bedroll.

Jaskier, feeling slightly less like he was going to die at any point, resigned himself to watching Geralt. The Witcher seemed to be lost in thought, eyes absent but body moving on autopilot to prepare for when Ciri woke up, stoking the embers back into a roaring fire and beginning to place stray objects back into Roach’s saddle bags.

He was halfway through picking up Ciri’s cloak when he seemed to snap back to the present, focus returning to Jaskier with newfound urgency.

“You’re hurt” he mumbled to himself, kneeling back down by Jaskier’s side, “I need to check for any damage”

Through his anger at the man, Jaskier couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for him as he watched his urgent motions, Geralt looking the most discombobulated that Jaskier had ever seen him.

He tried to stay still as Geralt’s fingers ran across his body, checking for any breaks or cuts hidden under the fur.

“I’m sorry Jask” he whispered, voice sounding frail - something Jaskier had never heard from him before.

He felt his eyes widen slightly, looking at him in disbelief. Before he could react, the moment was broke as Ciri stirred behind them.

“Geralt?”

“I’m here”

The princess grunted her assent - ‘already learning bad habits from Geralt’ Jaskier noted - and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Where's Dandelion?”

Jaskier let out a yip from where he was half-hidden behind Geralt.

“He’s a bit injured” Geralt explained, “We're going to have to find someone to help”

“Oh no -is he okay?”

“He’s fine, we just need to get him properly checked” Geralt assured her, dodging the whole ‘I’ve been magicked into another animal’ bit that would probably freak her out.

“A Mage? Like Yennefer?” Ciri asked excitedly, “I saw her in my dreams too, remember? Are we going to meet her?”

Jaskier’s stomach dropped at the mention of her name, dread returning to his person as he watched Geralt nod, seemingly reluctantly.

‘I don't see why’ Jaskier thought bitterly, ‘It’ll be a lovely family reunion. All three back together again, and me flung out on my ass again’

“Excellent!” Ciri squealed, scrambling out of her covers, “Let's get going”

“How much further do you think?” Ciri asked from upon Roach, her eyes shining.

“Not long”

Jaskier could feel the rumble of his words from where he was pressed against his chest, the sensation surprisingly comforting. To his shock, he had to grit his teeth to restrain what could have been a purr escaping from his throat.

‘This just keeps getting weirder’ the bard thought to himself, discreetly looking at the Witcher above him, ‘I wonder what will happen once I’m back in human form’

“She’s close” Geralt said suddenly, head snapping to his left, spotting a small path diverting off from the main road, “Down there”

Ciri just looked at him in awe as Roach followed the direction, “How do you do that? Know where she is, I mean”

“We’re … connected in a way” he sighed, eyes darting around uncomfortably, “I can feel when she’s near. It’s like somethings tugging me towards her”

“Like soulmates?” Ciri asked innocently.

Jaskier barely restrained a growl, though it looked as though Geralt caught it, the sides of his mouth tilting up almost unnoticeably.

‘I’m glad my pain amuses you’ Jaskier huffed in his mind, glowering at the Witcher.

“No, not like soulmates” Geralt corrected eventually, the humour gone from his face, “I made a mistake - a long time ago - that bound us together. It wasn't fair on anyone”

As he finished his sentence, Jaskier could swear Geralt looked at him, eyes swimming with hidden meaning.

‘Stop being ridiculous Julian. You’re reading too far into it again’

“Oh”

The rest of the walk was quiet, Ciri and Geralt both brewing on the earlier conversation, until a small cottage appeared in front of them on the path. When they were a few feet away, the door swung open, unimpressed violet eyes surveying them.

“What do you want Geralt”

“Just one favour, please. Then I’ll get out of your hair”

Yennefer’s frown didn't waver, staring at the witcher with something akin to disgust in her eyes.

“Please?”

Her expression melted as she took in the sight of Ciri, finally nodding and gesturing towards the cottage with a sigh.

“One favour”

“Fine”

“So the wolf’s new” Yen eventually said, frown intensifying as she stared at him, “And magical - did you know that Geralt?”

“Of course I knew that, why do you think I’m here”

Yen shot him a glare, though stepped closer to Jaskier, hands moving through the air as if clearing cobwebs.

“This was an enchantment done out of spite, and quite a strong one at that. Where did you find him?”

“I didn't. Ciri did, said he protected her until they found me”

Yennefer just hummed, “It’s the bard isn't it?”

“How did you know?”

“Why else would you come to me? Come on now Geralt don't take me for a fool. What did he do this time?”

Jaskier huffed, getting quite annoyed at being talked about as if he wasn't there, and let out a growl, narrowing his eyes at the witch.

“Still a drama queen it looks like”

Geralt just sighed, crossing his arms, “Can you help him?”

“I’ll need to try and figure out what kind of curse was used, and from that I should be able to figure out the counter-curse, or at least what needs to be done to break it” Yen said, moving a stool next to the table where Jaskier was lain, now turning her attention to him, “I need to know who did this to you. Can I search your mind?”

‘Certainly not’ Jaskier thought, appalled, rearing his head back as he tried to shuffle away.

“I don't know why I asked” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “Just stay still, this may hurt”

He just huffed, ‘As if she cared about that’

An intense tingling sensation started to crawl over his head, reminiscent of pins and needles, intensifying to the point of incomprehensible pain, making Jaskier whine as his body seemed to convulse slightly.

Ciri, hearing the noise of distress, entered the room, eyes widening at the sight before her, “You’re hurting him!” she cried, “Stop it!”

The pain stopped almost immediately, leaving his struggling for breath. Ciri ran to his side, stroking a hand over his head soothingly. Yen just stared down at him for a few moments, a new understanding clouding her eyes, mixed with something suspiciously close to pity.

‘Shit’

“It’s a curse - though it wasn't meant for him specifically” Yen explained, slightly breathless herself, “It’s made as a punishment for somebody else”

‘Yeah, Geralt’ Jaskier wanted to shout, still annoyed that they thought he had done something dumb.

“Can you break it?” Geralt sounded almost desperate, eyes flicking between him and Yennifer.

‘Desperate to get rid of me’

Yennefer just glared at him, ignoring the question and turning back to Jaskier, her hand moving a few inches above his body, as if scanning him.

“The curse is strong, but I have no doubt I can break it. I’ll need a few days, but yes” She turned back to Geralt, “You’ll have your bard back soon enough”

“Bard?”

All eyes turned to Ciri, still stood in the corner of the room.

“You haven't told her?”

“I was going to -”

“When? When he was a fully grown man again?”

“...No”

Yennefer sighed, throwing her hands up in the air, “You’re unbelievable. Explain to her for gods sake”

The next day, Jaskier having being moved to a pile of pillows on the floor for the night, Yennefer was confident that she could break the enchantment.

Geralt was stood in the next room, Ciri crowded in his arms as they waited for the counter-curse to be enacted, the whimpers of the wolf slowly turning into more human-like screams of pain.

At one particularly strangled cry, Ciri broke, pressing her forehead against Geralt’s chest as hard as she possibly could. Not knowing exactly how to help, Geralt simply placed one of his hands on the back of her head, murmuring low promises of it being over soon.

The sudden halt to all noise was not as reassuring as Geralt thought it would be, his body tensing as all the worst scenarios ran through his mind.

“He’s back” Yen said, walking out of the room, wiping sweat from her brow with a proud look on her face. Ciri rushed to give her a hug, knocking her back slightly with the force of collision, “thanks”

“Thank you” Geralt said, sincerity clear in his words.

She nodded once, with a depth of understanding that unsettled the Witcher.

“You should check on him” she nodded towards the door, eyes drawn to the girl held within her arms, “I’ll send her in in a few minutes”

Geralt did as she instructed, opening the door softly, eyes immediately latching on to the familiar figure of Jaskier curled up on the bed.

“You’re ok”

The bard’s head whipped up at the sound of his voice, wincing slightly at the sudden movement.

“Yes, it appears I am” he replied, giving a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, “if it’s alright with you I’ll be here for a few more hours before I get out of your hair - changing forms like that is quite painful”

Geralt frowned as the scent of fear assaulted his nose once more, this time not dulled by that of wet dog. In his confusion it took him a few seconds to register Jaskier’s words.

“Leave? Why would you leave?”

The bitter laugh that escaped the bard cut Geralt to the core, a pain starting to bloom in his chest.

“I’m only doing as you wished, my dear. I believe it was your life’s blessing to be rid of me. Alas, I didn't mean to come across you again so soon, though I suppose that cant really be blamed on me considering the mage wanted to target you”

Geralt blinked. Jaskier kept talking.

“I mean, really, the one time I didn't actually do anything wrong was the one time I got myself in a mess I couldn't get out of - awfully ironic don't you think? Then I found Ciri and I knew I couldn't just leave her, surely you understand that”

He had started using hand gestures now, apparently feeling better by the second, “and I did try to leave when I found you, I really did, but then Ciri kept calling for me and I’m weak when it comes to that girl - you know she reminds me of my niece, always getting what she wants”

“Jaskier-”

“I did try again yesterday but then the tree dropped its branch on me because destiny is a bitch so that didn't work either. Anyway now I’m back to normal I suppose you’ll want me out of here - I promise I will after a nap”

“Jaskier” geralt growled, stepping closer to the bed.

The fear scent spiked, “Or - or not. It’s fine, I didnt really need a nap anyway. I’ll just get going then, yeah?”

Geralt stopped at the edge of the bed, placing his hand over the younger man’s mouth, “Shut up Jaskier”

A squeak came from behind his hand, so he removed it, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak.

“I am sorry for what I said on the mountains. It was wrong of me to take out my anger on you. None of those things were your fault, you were just there when I made the decisions”

Jaskier watched in awe as Geralt spoke, eyes widening as the scent of fear started to lessen.

“I missed you, afterwards. I didn't think you’d want to see me so I didn't look for you - I should have and for that I’m sorry Jaskier”

The bard just sat there, stunned.

“I don't think I’ve ever heard you speak so much in one go” he eventually said, hesitantly teasing. Geralt could see it for what is was - testing the waters.

“Perhaps I would’ve said more if you had let me get a word in edge wise” he retaliated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Seemingly all the reassurance he needed, Jaskier sagged in relief, leaning forwards until his forehead rested on Geralt’s lower stomach.

“I missed you too, my dear Witcher”

They were quiet for a few moments, just enjoying their closeness.

“So you don't wish me to leave?”

Things finally clicked in the Witcher’s mind - the fear was not of him, but of being rejected by him again. With that sudden realisation, Geralt placed a hand in Jaskier’s hair, running it through his locks soothingly.

“Never again, bard”

The moment was interrupted by the door opening, Ciri launching herself at Jaskier with a delighted squeal.

“You were my wolf?” she asked incredulously, “I know you! You came to see me every year”

Jaskier’s grin was back in full beam on his face, “I’m honoured that you remember that princess”

Ciri giggled as Jaskier bowed his head theatrically from his where he was sat on the bed. Geralt stood back and watched the two interact, both full of smiles and laughter, a new lightness in his chest.

Yennefer leant against the doorframe, watching him with a surveying expression.

“Be careful with them” she said, eyes straying over to the pair, “Especially the bard”

Geralt raised his eyebrow questioningly.

“I’ve seen into his mind” she explained, “And that man would do anything for you”

Geralt looked back over to Jaskier, amber eyes meeting cornflower blue, “Hmm”

It took them another two months before they realised they were meant to be, the realisation occurring after a particularly rowdy bar fight in which Jaskier ‘defended Geralt’s honour’ by launching at two men who were speaking ill of him. (Geralt had dragged him into the alley - Ciri was in their room - and kissed him heavily against the wall. He insisted it was mostly to shut him up about his win)

And if Jaskier sometimes still purred when he was happy, or bared his teeth when seeing his ‘pack’ threatened, then who was Geralt to judge? He certainly wasn't complaining about the marking in bed either.

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