#reader fanfic

[spooky-holtz]

Kelly Green

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff, some VERY suggestive language, alludes heavily to smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Prompt: "mel x reader where they’re dating and the r keeps stealing mel’s eagles sweatshirt and one day mel finds the reader all curled up on the couch sleeping with the sweater on.."

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“Honey?” You hear Melissa call in your shared bedroom from where you sit at the bathroom vanity that was once just hers. The products that litter the surface are a mix of both of yours; Melissa’s various pens and bottles sitting on one side, neatly tucked into a makeup back, your own strewn across the surface as you try to prepare yourself for the day ahead, “Have you seen my lucky sweatshirt anywhere?”  

You know exactly the one she’s talking about. It’s game day so there is only one item of clothing she will wear and it’s her relic of a sweatshirt. The heather grey material is a little discolored and frayed around the edges from years of constant use and the green print that displays the Eagles logo across the front is cracked beyond belief, making it nearly impossible to read the Kelly green font.  

“Babe?” She calls again, “Are you even listening?” The slight panic in her voice is evident as you realize you haven’t actually answered her yet. You stare back at your reflection in the mirror from the padded stool on which you sit, hair curled and makeup half-applied after your shower, Melissa’s silk robe you grabbed from its hook on the back of the door currently resting on your shoulders and tied loosely around your waist.  

You sigh as you realize you should probably go and help the redhead and rise from your seat, anticipating the level of stress you’ll no doubt find her in.  

When you cross the threshold from cold tiled flooring to the soft carpet of the bedroom, you immediately find Melissa torso deep in the chest of drawers that holds most of her clothing. She hasn’t even noticed you yet, the entire top half of her body nearly submerged in the sea of shirts as she rummages through them frantically. You can hear her mumbling something about “that goddamn sweater” as she digs through the drawer, your presence unnoticed.  

You don’t want to get too close to the scene, knowing that you could get hit by one of the sweater-turned-projectiles that your dear wife is currently throwing halfway across the room, not bothering to look back and see where they land. Instead, you choose to lean back against the doorway from which you just entered and admire the view of Melissa bending over in the tightest pair of leather pants she owns. Game day has its advantages, and every single one of them are those pants. You decide to finally put her out of her misery and break the silence.  

“You know it’s not going to be in there, right?” The sound of your voice immediately catches her attention, and she jumps, caught off guard by the intrusion and nearly hitting her head on the drawer above her head that sits ajar above the current focus of her attention. “The last game day was literally a week ago, so it’s probably folded up by the dryer somewhere downstairs.”  

In reality you know it’s not anywhere near the dryer; it’s in your own chest of drawers that Melissa doesn’t dare to touch. She can’t know that you’ve taken it, especially not now when she’s this far into what is coming close to a nervous breakdown.  

You didn’t even mean for it to take up residence among the rest of your clothing. It just happened last weekend when Melissa was out shopping and lunching with Barbara and you quite simply missed her, choosing to curl up in the sweater that she’s worn since long before you met. It just never found its way back to its rightful home and is now tucked away safely among your countless band t-shirts on the other side of the bedroom.  

After what feels like an eternity of watching your wife rifling through her own clothing, she finally stands from her crouched position, grumbling about her knees and gripping the edge of the cabinet, and turns to meet you.  

“How about I check the dryer for you, hm?” You ask as she turns slowly, her stiff muscles making it difficult to do so quickly. The stress in her features is evident, the crease between her eyebrows prominent from her furrowed brow. Her face softens as she meets your eye-line from where you rest against the door from, arms folded and head leaning against the wood.  

“I’ve already checked, it’s definitely not there,” she replied, taking a few steps closer to where you stand. As she moves you can’t help but notice her eyes dipping down your frame, taking in your form. Her expression has gone from stressed, soft, to starving in seconds. “You know, I never even noticed that this is what you looked like right now.”  

She’s crossed the room already and stands in front of you, arms reaching out to wrap around your waist and bring you away from the door frame, toward her. Your own arms unfold and lace themselves around her neck, her red curls brushing against your wrists as you move. You scratch at the nape of her neck lightly, knowing that it calms her even in her most tumultuous of moments.  

“I haven’t even put my eyelashes on yet,” you huff. “I’m literally nowhere near ready.”  

Her eyes dip down again, your own following her gaze to see exactly what she finds so interesting. She wraps her arms tighter around you, bringing your body impossibly closer to her own. Her hands dip lower, brushing against the small of your back, bunching your robe and holding you in place.  

“You know, that isn’t a bad thing at all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice and your suspicions are confirmed when you look up and see that all too familiar expression laced across her features. Her dimples are deepened by the quirk of her lip, her eyebrow raised almost as if in a challenge. Your eyes dip down to her lips just as her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, coated with sticky pink shimmering gloss. When you look back up again you know you’ve been caught.  

You feel the heat rise up your neck, covering your chest in a pink blush. Even after all this time, Melissa’s flirting still makes you feel like a teenager. You can feel her subtly maneuver your body so that your back rests against the painted wall and not the sharp doorframe, narrowly missing the large wooden picture frame that protects an image of the Philly skyline.  

You know she’s proud of herself and the flustered state she’s got you in. Her lips haven’t even touched your own yet and you’re already putty in her hands, the task at hand completely forgotten. You feel her press into you, pushing you further into the wall, her leg coming to rest between your own.  

Her hands still hold your waist, keeping you in place and precisely where she wants you. The contact burns through your robe, the same way her eyes burn holes into your skin. When her eyes meet yours, you can see how dark they’ve become, the emerald green almost unrecognizable from the blown nature of her pupils. Her one hand leaves the comfort of your waist and instead trails up your body to rest at your jaw, her thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip.  

“You know, we’ve still got some time,” she says lowly, her eyebrow arched again. She knows you can never say no to her, especially when she looks as delicious as she does right now. The combination of her tight pants and buttoned plaid shirt makes your head spin, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and buttons undone slightly so you can see the smooth expanse of milky skin beneath. Her gaze runs down your body again and you feel yourself shiver under her scrutiny, goosebumps instantly appearing where her eyes follow. She leans closer, pressing her lips to your rosy cheek. “What do you say, pretty girl?” 

“My eyes are up here,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat as she presses her lips to your neck, using the hand on your jaw to keep you still and precisely where she wants you. You can feel the tackiness of her lips as they press into your skin, moving their way up toward your ear. Melissa’s breathing has gotten heavier, and you know there must be a trail of pink across your skin from the redhead’s attack.  

“I know,” she breathes into your ear, her deepened voice making your knees weaken. “Can’t I admire my beautiful wife?” She asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice and feel it where her lips press into your jaw, immediately giving her intentions away, as if the thigh pressing into the heat between your legs and the fist she has burrowed into the back of your robe doesn’t already. That same hand snakes its way around your waist, your wife pulling you impossibly closer as she continues to melt your hard exterior and quickly make use of what little time you have left.  

She uses the positioning to her advantage by sliding her hand around your thigh and lifting, bringing her even closer to your core. The sudden movement causes you to gasp, and her smirk only intensifies against your neck, turning into a full-blown shit-eating grin. You wrap your leg around her waist from where you stand, not letting her move away any time soon.  

She pulls her head back to look into your eyes, the green entirely replaced by her black pupils. Her lipgloss has smudged past the edge of her lips, almost matching the rosy hue of her cheeks, and her hair is mussed from where your hands have been buried within her red locks. This is one of your favourite versions of Melissa. She’s clearly hungry for whatever you can give.  

“How long do ya think we’ve got before Janine panics over us not being at the bar?” she asks, eyes trained on the pink glittery trail she’s left across your jaw. She’ll have to help you reapply your make-up later.  

“Probably an hour?” You respond, following her eyeliner as she admires her work, “But it’s never going to take that long, let’s be real.” 

Your words cause her eyes to snap up to meet yours, her mouth breaking into an instant grin, the lines around her eyes growing deeper at her joy.  

“I say we test your theory,” she says seconds before she spins you, leading you backward toward your bed.  

That was three weeks ago and she had all but forgotten about her sweater, her thoughts preoccupied with the other more important issues at hand. That was until she had walked back into your home one evening after her usual Saturday afternoon lunch with her Nonna. You would usually attend these lunches, finding the older Sicilian woman’s takes on the world incredibly entertaining but a week of testing means that you were far too behind on grading.  

When Melissa closes the heavy wooden door to your home, her belly and heart full, she can’t help but notice the eerie quietness. The usual music is playing from the radio on the kitchen counter, but instead of blasting some cheesy pop song that Melissa loves to pretend to hate she’s greeted by the dulcet tones of Carly Simon’s subdued crooning.  

She makes her way across the wooden floor, stepping carefully so her high-heeled boots can’t make the usual cracking noise with each step. When she rounds the corner into the living room, she is greeted by the dim light of a candle that has nearly reached the end of its wick, the sickly sweet scent of vanilla filling the room. She can see where you sit on the couch, the top of your head where a hastily thrown up bun sits giving away your location. You clearly haven’t noticed her presence yet, not moving at the noise of her walking closer.  

When she rounds the side of the sofa, Melissa can see that you’re not in fact hard at work but have evidently fallen asleep mid-grading. Your legs are a tangled mess where they rest along the length of the sofa, the plastic that protected the material had been removed long ago when you moved in with the red head, your relationship still fairly new but clearly thriving.  

Your head rests against the cushion of the sofa behind you, pen still in hand and paper discarded where it lays in your lap. Melissa can’t help but laugh lightly, thinking about just how many times she’s managed to find you in this exact position over the years. Your fluffy socks and bright red plaid pyjama pants are the image of comfort, she thinks, as she takes in the sight of you- wait a second, is that her Eagles sweater? The sight makes her jaw fall open in disbelief and everything clicks into place.  

The subject changes whenever it was brought up in conversation suddenly make so much sense to her now. She can’t help but chuckle and shake her head slightly, impressed that you had managed to misdirect her for so long but so enamoured that you could do all that just for a sweater. She would have let you wear it if you had asked, but she thinks it’s probably better to make you feel the achievement of swindling her out of her favourite item of clothing.  

Her heart feels impossibly full as she looks down at you where you rest, glass askew on your face and soft snores filling the room. Even if the losing streak the Eagles endured at the end of the season are a result of Melissa not wearing her sweater on game days, she would take the losses a million times over if it meant she could come home to this sight every evening. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Progenitor

Pairing(s): Jasper Hale x Vampire!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings: platonic Alice x Jasper, magic wielding vampire, no nahuel, alice can't see renesmee's future

Words:6,000+

"Tell me another story, cowboy." You impishly grin over to the man laying next to you. Your mate.

Really, there was no need for a bed in your room considering you never used it for actual sleep. That was beyond the both of you.

Jasper's smile is dashing against the flicker of your candles. His fingers are dancing over your shoulder and down your arm. "For someone who has lived for thousands of years, I'd figure you'd heard better stories."

You roll your eyes, kissing the plane of his chest. "This is the first time I've cared about the main character in those stories." It was true. Never had you cared about anyone as much as you did for Jasper. You just had to wait several centuries to meet the right one.

Through those years you'd taken many companions as well as turned many good friends and students. Even the oldest known vampires of the Volturi originate from your fangs. One would be lucky enough to boast that they were made by you. That meant something great in the known vampire community. Some even whispered that you were one of the first vampires in creation. You never spoke of your own origins. You told Jasper those were the dark ages of your life and were still not ready to go back to that time.

And for you to be even slightly interested in a young one like Jasper constantly confounds him. You ate up everything he told you, titillated by battle after battle that he won for Maria. Hanging on his every word with a sort of wide eyed innocence that was rare for their kind.

That's what he remembers (and misses) most about you. As much as the both of you loved one another, you couldn't stay in one place for too long. Jasper understood though both of you wish to see one another more often. As powerful as you were, it was something that neither of you could risk. Other vampires could sniff you out within moments. Not to mention you hadn't always necessarily been a nice vampire. One out of ten vampires was said to have a beef with you. It wasn't your safety that had you constantly roaming the world, it was the safety of the human world around you. Any city you were in could be preyed upon immediately by stray vamps who followed your scent.

Distance would never dampen the love you have for each other.

"I understand if you don't want to come-" Jasper has his phone pressed up against his ear and shoulder as he's shoving papers and folders into his backpack and other items he may need on his journey to South America. There were a few covens there that hey hoped to enlist as help.

"Oh hush Jasper. Of course I'll be there. Both Bella and Renesmee are family. I'll make up for lost time." His stomach warms when he can hear the smile on your lips through the phone speaker "And I think once Caius sees me, he'll convince the others to back down."

That's what the Cullens were banking on with asking you to come and defend your adoptive niece. After all, you were the progenitor of many of the vampires in existence today. Some way or another, they all were sired from your venom. Including Caius. He's been the most doting of your acolytes even if it did tend to cause a rift with the other two leaders of the Volturi. Marcus in particular since you'd defeated him several times throughout the centuries.

Off to the side of the room, Alice rolls her eyes. "See, I told you she'd be down!" She grabs Jasper's phone, monopolizing the call now. "He was worried that he'd be imposing too much on you. I told him that of course you'd help!"

Your laugh on the other end rings loud in his ears as he watches Alice cradle the phone to the side of her face. "You know how he is. My gentleman cowboy." Alice really did enjoy when the both of you ganged up on Jasper to embarrass him. It was delicious to watch him get flustered for once.

Having enough, Jasper snatches back his phone. "Alice and I are heading out soon. I don't know how long we'll be. . ."

"Don't worry. I have my house key. Relax, Jaz. Everything will be okay." If only the one power you did possess was Jasper's ability to control other's emotions, you would use it to calm him. "You two be careful and look out for one another. I'll be there."

God did he want to kiss you. To take you in his arms and let you reassure him in that way only you could. "Yes, ma'am. I love you."

"I love you too." Your voice lowers to a warm whisper.

When the call ends, Jasper stares at his black home screen. He takes a deep breath and shoves it inside his back pocket. Missing you wasn't going to aid him in any way at the moment.

In the background he vaguely makes out Alice's excited chatter, excitement raised her octave.

"I can't wait for Bella and Renesmee to meet her!"

"They're going to adore her."

"Don't you think Jasper?"

"Jasper?"

She actually had to reach out to him and give a small nudge with her index and middle finger. His head whips to her, finally catching his attention.

"Sorry." He mutters having heard none of Alice's rambling.

"You heard her. Why are you so worried? You know that she won't let anything bad happen. The Volturi would be stupid to initiate a fight with her here." She sets aside her own bag she'd been working on and crosses her arms in front of her chest. "We have to pull out our big gun."

"I hate of thinking of her like that. She's been everyone's big gun for centuries." Jasper just sighs and sits down on the edge of the couch, fingers digging into the upholstery. Esme won't be happy when she finds small nail marks in it.

Alice eyes him for a moment before pointing out "You know she'd do a lot more for you if you let her. To her, this is small peanuts." A new thought abruplty comes to her mind as she changes the subject. "You remembered to get those documents for Bella, right?"

In reply, his eyes dart to the manila envelope that lay on his desk. Alice's gaze follows to where Jasper's eyes had fallen. The envelope he'd obtained from J. Jenks. It was to be used under the worst case scenario.

"I hope Bella doesn't have to use it." He admits, hauling his backpack over his shoulders.

Try as she might, Alice couldn't force a vision that involved the outcome of the Volturi's visit. Couldn't even see Jasper's mate. But Alice trusted you, more than any other member of the Cullen coven. She knew you'd pull through, even without the use of her powers, she knew you would not let your family be threatened, even if you had yet to meet the two newest members.

You were forced to miss the wedding of Edward and Bella due to. . . circumstances. Regardless, you had sent them a present accompanied by a letter of congratulations. What better way to meet your sister-in-law and niece than by intervening on their behalf and chasing off the Volturi?

When you'd hung up from talking to Jasper and Alice, you tap the phone against your chin in thought. The room you'd been renting out was lit only by moonlight from outside. This way of living did get awfully lonely. You spoke to your family as often as you could. Visiting every five years at the very least. Thus was the solitary life of an ancient. You'd forgotten much of your early life, couldn't remember if you'd ever been human. There's a slim chance at that. The furthest back you could remember was a world of darkness and other screeching creatures. A small recollection that you'd once had inhuman body. But it felt like a dream, maybe another life completely.

In your long, long life, never did you have anything resembling a family. You were always alone with blood filled thoughts and the feeling you got when you shattered pathetic armies of men.

You changed accordingly as the world evolved as well. The forming of countries. The fall of them. From huts to skyscrapers. You found it almost appallingly easy to get victims if you were already assimilated into their society. They would have no clue of the real monster you were. Not until it was too late.

Then on a whim and also after hearing the bloodshed going on in the states, you met Maria and Jasper. She was pleading her case for revenge against the Volturi and had felt your presence in the vicinity. You'd heard that your scent was unmistakeable.

When you asked Jasper what your scent smelled like, he'd tried his best. "It's the essence of power, my love. There's a deep, heady richness to it. As if it has been steeped in the secrets of the universe. A haunting presence that clings to one's senses."

What would that even smell like? You'd wondered. When you sniffed your arm, all you smelled was the faint kiss of juniper berries.

Maria proposed the take down of the Volturi and how easily it could be done with you. She hadn't anticipated your hesitation. While you didn't agree with the massive coven, you would never go out of your way to meddle with their business. After all, Caius was your fledgling. The very first. Of course you'd be sentimental over him. Sharing your venom was not something to take lightly, at least that's what you thought.

And you doubted Maria's ability of warfare compared to the trio that ruled the Volturi. Her army of newborns was impressive without a doubt, but she was still young herself. You, Marcus, Caius and Aro were overwhelmingly more experienced.

Jasper was just an infant compared to the millenia you've lived or even the hundreds of years Maria may have been alive during. Yet he makes you feel. . . entirely new. Makes you feel something you'd never felt even toward another vampire.

Having never experienced it before, even you knew what it was you were feeling: love. Love at first sight. Quite pathetic but, alas, you have no control over your own emotions. Annoying, but you let yourself fall into it. Titillated by everything you felt when around Jasper Whitlock. Never had you felt so alive. Each kiss, each caress sent flames across your skin. You never knew how dead you'd really been. While you had the face and body of youth, you don't recall a moment where you felt like how you looked now.

You met him during a time where even Jasper was feeling depressed about his immortal life. He was tired of living the way Maria did. Nothing satisfied him. Until he saw you. It was like his heart started beating (but of course that was impossible). Even if she wanted to, Maria didn't fight against it when Jasper told her he was leaving her coven to be with you.

He's been the only one to see the magic you could do without it being stemmed from violence. Real, arcane magic. You'd briefly mentioned the wars you'd been able to win. The amount of people you'd slain. That didn't deter him. That didn't define you.

This is the one battle you would win for love.

Everyone was gathered in the near blinding snow capped surroundings. All except for you. Wolves and the Cullens on one side, black clad Volturi on the other. No one dares to make the first move. All looked to the coven leader, Carlisle, to do the greetings.

He looks to his adopted granddaughter, his family that he built and would do anything to protect. Renesmee beams up at him with apprehensive, big eyes.

Carlisle moves forward, his feet leaving prints in the snow. Aro's skin would have made him blend easily in the blurring snow were it not for his red eyes and black attire. His immortal, handsome face smiles when Aro greets Carlisle.

"Aro, Iet us discuss things as we used to. In a civilized manner." Proposes Carlisle. Hopefully he can take up enough time until you show up.

A dark brow raises on Aro's face. "Fair words, Carlisle. But a little out of place, given the battalion you've assembled against us." His eyes move from Carlisle and scan to behind him where several vampire covens and a pack of wolves wait for the signal to take action.

"I can promise you, that was never my intent. No laws have been broken." True, though the wolves may be a sticky subject to broach. Aro appeared more concerned about the little girl whose eyes bore into the Volturi leader.

Caius' lips curls in disdain. "We see the child. Do not treat us as fools."

"She is not an immortal." Carlisle counters, his arm opening wide to gesture to the Cullens' own army. "These witnesses can attest to that. Or you can look. See the flush of human blood in her cheeks."

While it hadn't been a particularly sunny day, everyone on the frozen field found themselves abruptly bathed in darkness. Above, the clouds had darkened and congregated thickly together. Still, they were able to make out a black shadow among the clouds. Many are left guessing but only Caius and Jasper knew what (or who) it was. Caius' eyes sparkle in veneration as he intently watches his creator break past the clouds with large bat-like wings. You must appear as some twisted angel the way you slowly descend to the ground, landing next to Carlisle.

His smile is bright and screaming relief. "Sorry I'm late." You apologize first to Carlisle.

Jasper catches the flick of your eyes toward him and finally he feels his face release from tension. He takes one step before Alice stops him. While everyone is happy to see you, this was a dangerous environment right now. If Jasper were to suddenly move and go to you, the Volturi might mistake it as an aggressive attack. Best to stay still and watch you take care of everything.

Renesmee grips her mother's leg. Her touch sends her thoughts straight to Bella. "Is she my aunt?"

Bella gapes in shock as your wings appear to shrink until they recoil and disappear completely. Edward had told her you were. . . quite old. Older than any other vampire out there. and that you possessed powers beyond her comprehension.

Stiffly she nods her head at Renesmee.

"Better late than never. It's good to see you." Carlisle pats you on the shoulder.

Before you'd landed, you'd already registered both sides of the battle. You counted how many each had, reveling in the marvel of the massive wolves that stood alongside the covens on the Cullens' side. And you'd seen the girl that was your niece. A unique thing she was. Even from high up in the sky you could see her veins filled with blood coursing inside of her. She was more human than vampire.

The breathy whisper of your name has you turning around to finally look at the Volturi's side. Despite Aro being leader, it was Caius who had called out to you. He always did have a beautifully bright smile whenever he gazed at you. Utterly devoted to his mistress.

You hadn't seen him for near three hundred years. His duties to the Volturi clashed with your values. There was no ill will between either of you though. "Caius. How unfortunate we have to see one another under these circumstances."

"So you know what's going on." Aro tensely holds a grin when he speaks to you. Like you were a ticking time bomb that had to be dealt with carefully. Behind him you didn't miss Marcus who shoots you a glare. He's tasted defeat by you before. It rose up once more in his mouth, bitter.

You casually nod. "I do. The very instant I saw the child, even I knew her to be of mix blood. Can you not smell the blood circulating in her?" Throwing them a condescending smile you continue "But if you truly need proof that she is not an immortal, then read her thoughts."

That had been the Cullen's plans all along. To have Renesmee explain for herself through her thoughts and memories.

Bella didn't like the idea of Renesmee going up to the Volturi by herself. Even worse was the thought that Aro had to actually touch her in order to read her mind. You could smell her apprehension and turn your back on the Volturi to go over to the Cullen's end. You take note of the Romanian vampires shying away from you. You give the members of your family quick embraces before you're brought to where Bella has a protective hand on Renesmee's shoulder. On the girl's other side was a massive rust furred wolf that snarls at you.

You carefully go down to your knees so you could properly address her. "Hi Renesmee. It's nice to finally meet you." Your voice is soft, expression gentle that didn't bely the deadly predator that you could be. Introducing yourself, Renesmee smiles at you; reaching her hand out so that she can introduce herself in her own way. You let her small hand fall upon your cheek and you're pulled into her thoughts.

Happiness.

Curiosity.

Nervousness.

She was aware all of this was her fault. That if the Volturi didn't believe her, so many people she cared about would be killed.

Covering her hand with your larger one, you give her your promise. She smiles knowing it to be true. You drop her hand and stand back up to look at Bella. "Would it be alright if I walk her over?"

Of course you knew that even though you were a Cullen, you were still a stranger. Ridiculous that she was expected to trust you with her child.

But Renesmee touches Bella's hand now. Renesmee trusts you. Bella chews on her bottom lips before relenting. She turns to the wolf. "You should probably stay here, Jake."

Fearlessly, Renesmee walks hand in hand with you to the other end. "Your wings are pretty." The child's thoughts ring in your head.

You tenderly smile at her. "Thank you. Once this is done, I'll take you flying if you want."

Murmurs ripple through the members and witnesses of the Volturi once you present Renesmee to Aro, your protective hand still holding onto Renesmee's. "Well Aro, you want a firsthand recount to her creation. Here she is. Renesmee, why don't you show Aro what you showed me."

Impressed by her fearlessness when Renesmee offers him a smile. Her voice is small but doesn't squeak. "Hello, Aro." Aro offers her his hand but instead Renesmee motions for him to crouch down so she could touch his cheek. The moment her fingers lay against the white flesh, you notice Aro's eyes grow distant.

Then he starts to delightfully. "Magnifico! Half mortal, half immortal. Conceived and carried by this newborn while she was still human." You'd never seen such a sparkle in his red eyes as he now takes in Renesmee for who she truly is. Not a monster that they had feared but just a special little girl.

Behind him though, there were unsatisfied grimaces and wary, darting eyes. This has you inching closer to your niece.

"It's unheard of!" Caius shrieks.

"There are many strange things in this world, Caius. You should know that by now." You patiently tell him. He relaxes at your words, happy enough that his mistress doesn't seem too bothered by this advancement. "Creatures of the deep. Those that lurk in shadows much like us." You momentarily inhale the air, smelling the wolves. "And those who are not what they seem."

While Caius is all too ready to accept the defeat and have the army stand down, Marcus snaps his fingers with the only instruction of "Bring the informer forward."

Ah yes, Irina. You'd met her once, maybe twice. Her expression is dour. If it were possible, she looked even more pale. She didn't have the golden eyes like those on a vegetarian diet. They were pitch black showing that she'd refrained from eating. Irina doesn't meet your gaze, she keeps her eyes gawking at Renesmee before she trains them down to her feet.

Confused by the tension she was feeling from Irina's guilty features, Renesmee sidles up to you; her hands gripping at your warm yarn coat that was just for looks.

"Is that the child you saw?" Marcus inquires.

Her nerves are impossible to conceal in her voice. "I'm not sure. . ."

"That's enough, Marcus. Renesmee's parentage has been cleared." You snap partially to save Irina any further embarrassment. Aro shoots you a look that tells you he didn't appreciate you undermining his authority. "None of your precious laws have been broken here."

Irina's fretful eyes do not lighten up. She knew the mistake she made. While you were more lenient nowadays, the Volturi would not appreciate being made a fool of like this. You could hear the small feet of Jane move as she anticipates the command from her leaders to get rid of Irina. You're fast to correct her with a hiss and baring your teeth. They weren't razor straight like the vampires of today. Your cuspids and lateral incisors were elongated and extremely sharp. Jane's eyes widen in alarm and she teeters on her next step before returning to her brother's side with a scornful glare. As much as she wished, her powers had no affect on you. Maybe in another thousand years Jane would be strong enough to subjugate you with her power. But until then she was but a baby.

Boldly you move toward Irina. While the other Volturi members twitch to move against you, one glare from you was enough to freeze them. Fury simmering in his gaze as he doesn't take his eyes off of you. Gently you take her by the arm. She shoots the Volturi scared looks but ultimately is pulled by you to Carlisle. Before removing your hand from her though, you force her to look you in the eyes.

"You will repent for what you have done. Beg forgiveness from the Cullens." Your whisper is a low one, but harshly hissed as you say it to her. "And remember this, Irina, if you pull a stunt like this again or anything that would betray the Cullens there is no place on this planet for you to hide. I'll give you the most excruciating death that I haven't dealt to anyone in a millennia."

Her throat bobs nervously, unable to rip her gaze from you out of fear. She stiffly nods, understanding that you'd have your eye on her for the rest of her immortal life. Carlisle gets her behind him.

Seeing that she was secured, you move on to your next point of business. "Irina has made a mistake, that is true, but no harm has been done. Whatever damage she's done was more so toward our family's trust in her. That is something we, as a family, will deal with." You nudge Renesmee towards Carlisle and motion with your head for the two of them to return to the Cullen's side of the field. Renesmee tugs a bit in resistance, not wanting to leave you. You pat her on the head as she passes to go with Carlisle. You don't take your eyes off of Aro.

Aro hates how he finds himself flinching a little bit when you consciously oppress him with your superior aura. All of the black clothed figures behind him shiver as well. "We don't know what she will become. The child is sweet and innocent right now. But she is the first known hybrid in creation. We don't know what will happen unless Alice has seen it."

Alice steps up. "It's hard to see the future of Renesmee. Even I cannot see." She'd tried many times to the point of giving herself a raging headache. The girl's fate was too intertwined with the wolves.

Her failure encourages Aro in his argument, you could see his mouth forming a smile that didn't meet his eery, scarlet eyes.

"Then I shall watch over her." The falling of Aro's face is priceless. "Who better to take care of an unknown variable than her very own aunt?" This was to be a discussion with her parents after the Volturi left. But you honestly thought that Renesmee traveling with you was the best option right now. At least until you're certain that she really would do no harm to humans. And she was the first interesting thing to happen to you since you met Jasper.

"You would make her a sanguinovite?" Caius breathes out, eyes jerking from you to Renesmee. Caius and Renesmee would be considered bonded via you as Caius was your apprentice by blood.

"I do."

Caius' shoulders slump. He was forbidden from causing harm against Renesmee.

But that didn't stop Aro or Marcus.

"Let us confer. We will use the facts that we have gathered." Wanting to keep some semblance of authority, Aro doesn't wait to hear your reply as he turns his back to you. At least Caius had enough piety to give you a quick bow before following the other two. Their wives linger behind them with guards encircling around them. Athenodora, Caius' wife, offers you a fleeting smile before whipping her head back at the tug of Sulpicia.

Sighing at the petulant child that Aro was, you walk back to your family who was anxiously waiting. The Denali coven are more concerned with making sure Irina was okay as they fret around her. You catch Tanya scolding her sister with a watery, relieved voice.

Jasper comes up to you and immediately you let go of your big bad vampire facade and melt into his embrace. You cling to him, fingers bunching up the back of his shirt. You allow the soothing of his power to wash over you. "I'm sorry I was late."

He chuckles against the crown of your head, pressing his lips against your temple. "It doesn't matter. You're here." His arms tighten around you.

"I missed you dearly." You whisper against his chest.

"And I you." His nose nuzzles against my face, coaxing a kiss from me.

He'd barely pressed his lips against mine before Edward is clearing his throat. Reminding you and Jasper to keep it cool as there was a child staring at you with large eyes.

Seeing that she has your attention, Renesmee immediately asks "Do you think it worked? Will they go now?"

"They'd be foolish not to." You smile at her.

"Hey, about what you said-" Edward starts but you were already ready to be confronted about the claim you made over Renesmee.

"I know. I should have talked it over with you first and gotten your permission. I'm sorry about that. But it was the only thing I could think to say to prevent violence." You explain.

Bella hooks her arm through Edward's and leans in to him, listening. She was still wary around you. Your scent probably didn't help either. It tend to aggravate other vampires.

Edward sighs, patting Bella's hand softly. "Thank you, by the way. For everything you're doing. I. . . We'll talk about Renesmee being your sanguinovite later. Would you really?"

"Of course I would. I know I haven't been around, but that doesn't mean I love my family any less. You and the rest of the Cullens have been my first and only family. When I married Jasper, I vowed to protect him. Then when we joined you and Carlisle, I promised to defend all that were in our coven for we are all family now." Family. . . Family had never meant anything to you before them. Really, they could tell you to annihilate any coven that threatened them and you would do so without hesitation. They didn't know the extent you would go to assure their security.

He swallows back the emotions that were surfacing across his pale features. "We are all family." Edward whispers, a choke in his tone.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I REFUSE TO BE PART OF THIS!!"

Caius' voice was ear piercing across the frozen expanse of the land. It draws everyone's attention to the opposing side.

That didn't bode well.

Edward hisses something that you don't catch. You're already stomping over to the halfway mark that both had used before.

Don't be fucking stupid Aro. Don't do it. Your mind screams out. If only Aro had the telepathy that Edward did. Don't make me hurt all of you.

A few yards away, Caius and Athenodora are running to you but he's being hounded by fast, Volturi guards.

"CAIUS!!!" Voice booming and ice underneath you shattering completely, you feel your wings shoot from your back and take to the air.

Your ears ring by the velocity you shoot across to get to your first vampire creation. Veins running searingly hot, your eyes glow with an intensity that matches the strength of your magic. It shook the trees that surrounded the glade, shaking the ice until there were splintering cracks surfacing and splitting the ice as you summoned your magic that had defeated many armies before.

The ice around Caius sharply pierces upward, piercing the Volturi guards that were trying to capture him and Athenodora. Dozens of jagged icicles arise from the ground to form a barrier against them.

Through the opening above the barricade, you swoop down and grab Caius and Athenodora. When bolting back into the sky above you could see that your actions had surprised both sides. No one moved an inch for a moment. Not until Aro starts shouting, condemning you as a apostate. That's when the spell cast on both sides was broken and all hell broke loose.

Not wanting to stop, you drop both of them off as close to the Cullen's side as possible. Caius knew he'd have to get out of there the moment his feet hit the ground. It wasn't safe for them here. Not anymore.

Performing a swift u-turn, you're faster than the Cullen horde advancing on the Volturi.

A twitch of your fingers was all you needed to summon half of your power. You call forth the creatures feared by wraiths. The shadows twisted and turned, forming monstrous specters that rose from the ground. Both sides come to a crashing halt at the creatures that were clawing their way from the earth. They glomp on to the nearest Volturi member, their touch much like Jane's power to cause immediate pain. Howls and shrieks erupt from the Volturis, enough to keep the Cullen side at bay. They watch with horrified awe.

Your magic has always been an ancient and violent one. Primal and raw.

A long dead language flows past your lips. The syllables were not ones humans could pronounce. Wraiths grab not just Aro, but the others who possessed special powers that have aided the Volturi in their quest for domination. They're brought forth to you. None are able to use their unique abilities. Not under your suffocating aura that rendered them immobile.

I should have done this a long time ago. You think to yourself. But you're Caius was involved with them. That was really why you kept your opinions about the Volturi to yourself. But now they were an immediate threat to those you care about.

All of them are lined up in front of you, the others being held back by their own wraith captors.

You stare them down ruthlessly, you could feel your form shifting a little to resemble even a sliver of your original form. The rest of your teeth sharpen and form into fine points. Talons larger than any predatory bird out there replace your small, human fingers.

"I was hoping you'd be wiser than this, children." Your voice isn't your's. It belongs to a dark god from a time before humanity was as civilized as it was.

You can taste Aro and Marcus' fear. Tangy but enjoyable to your palate. A taste you miss. You extend your clawed hand toward the Volturi leaders, curved claws glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. One by one, you focus your attention on those that were pushed down to their knees. Each one had used their power to benefit the Volturi. To cast terror among those who refused to bend to their will.

Jane is snarling at you, trying her best to use her pain waves against you but she was as powerless as her brother beside her. Demetri, Renata, even Chelsea were all present.

You rip their powers from them, strip their core of what made them special. Their bodies jerk from your magic penetrating them. Many struggle to no avail. Like pulling an anchor from the depths of the sea, you give a good tug with your claws. Spheres of light that were the embodiment of their abilities. Weakly, Aro attempts to reach for his as it floats from his chest toward you.

Collecting them all, you fuse them together with more ancient words until their combined abilities were formed into an ornate necklace.

You stare at them, useless husks of what they once were. "Do you still wish to continue with your attack?"

They're panting from the pain of a part of themselves being ripped out of them. The other members who were standing in as mere witnesses are already scurrying, getting out of their before your mercy ran out.

"You-" Aro hisses out, clutching at his abdomen.

Teasingly you dangle the necklace in front of all of them. "I suggest all of you go back to your lair. There is no way any of you are getting your powers back any time soon. Trust me, this is me showing kindness that none of you deserve. Let this be a firm reminder to you, that all members of my family are off limits. Know your place."

Aro and Marcus seethe but know the threat behind your words. They were lucky to be leaving with their lives intact.

"Be gone." You growl. "I don't want to have to deal with you again. And if Caius does decide to return to your guild for whatever reason, you are to treat him with nothing but polite civility."

If his looks could actually kill, you were sure Aro would have smite you down in that instant. Alas, he's as weak as any normal vampire now.

"For me?" Renesmee smiles, bewitched by the necklace you offer her.

Everyone was back at the Cullen residence. Some of the other covens, seeing that the conflict was over, went back to their individual countries. The Denali coven were all congregated upstairs while the Cullens were in the living room.

"Who better to have their powers than you?" You place it in her small palms. "You can be the one to decide whether the Volturi are worthy enough to have their powers back."

"That's amazing." Bella breathes, admiring the necklace gifted to her daughter. "All their powers are in there?"

You nod. "Yup. It's a spell I picked up from the Mycenaeans. A little after I'd turned Caius. A fate worse than death for many vampires. As long as you have this, I don't think they'll be causing you any problems. Protect it and keep it safe, Renesmee."

She looks up at you, a worshipper gazing up at their god. "I will."

Standing up, you turn to your mate. "Shall we retire?"

Jasper had been patiently waiting all day to have some alone time with you. Now that the chaos was subsiding, it was the perfect opportunity.

He eagerly takes your hand, making Alice giggle, and the both of you bolt up the stairs to where Jasper's room was. Well, it was your shared room honestly. There were many of your possessions there. Paintings, little bobbles/souvenirs, an authentic Persian rug that you won from a sultan. A lot of your clothes were still hung or folded neatly in the wardrobe.

His pupils are blown out when he looks at you, a black dime cradled in a blanket of gold. "You never cease to amaze me." Hands on either side of your face, he kisses you deeply to further show his devotion. Between kisses, he gasps out praise for your strength, for the power that flowed in you.

You squeal out a giggle, something your enemies would gawk at. You always felt so young when Jasper gathered you up in his arms to transfer you to the bed.

Jasper hovers over you, his blonde hair dangling on either side of his face.

You grin. "Come here, cowboy."

Taglist:

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bakugospartner

[chwippy]

Messaaaageeessss !!

Miles x reader lmfoa WHAT

Online dude who cant stfu and you suddenly can’t speak. [ Fluff, burning, cool reader :P]

Warning(s) - grammar mistakes, confusing writing, a lot of ‘as’ idk why I liked used as, its a safe fanfic with a ton of words and mistakes ig LOL.. Miles is still Spiderman.

-

Hours after hours.

Messages after messages.

You had been woken up from another message from someone you had met from a discord server you and your friends had made for fun.

It’s been weeks since the server was created, already have been filled with hundreds of people as you felt like you had accomplished something - not having a life!

Kidding.

You took your phone into hand, putting it up til your phone opened automatically and the high brightness that had an automatic increase hit your eyes, making you wince a little.

You quickly recovered from that awful brightness that had been stuck onto your phone, now laying on your back instead of your side now.

You hopped over to instagram, checking out the next messages you had been sent over the past few minutes upon receiving them.

You read them,

M1LES_: DAWG STOP LIKING AND SAY SMTHN M1LES_: (I'm running out of things to text u)

You felt yourself smile a bit from these messages, now going ahead and typing out;

Y_OUR_NME: Do you wanna talk to me that bad?

You sent, closing your phone once again as you didn’t expect him to respond THAT quickly to your reply to his messages.

But he did, you had heard multiple dings from your phone as you checked our him spamming you the following;

M1LES_: Do

Not

Make

It

Seem

Like

That.

You chuckled at such a response as you went ahead and spammed him the same way he did.

You spent a couple of more minutes talking to him back and forth. Until he stopped sending you replies as you had been left on read.

After spamming you multiple messages at a time.

Wow, the audacity of this man.

You proceeded to do the same, spam the poor man with numerous messages until he replied to yours. And it somewhat worked - he read them, just not replied.

You rolled your eyes to the screen, annoyed at not getting him to respond to your messages as you planned your ‘devious’ plan to spam him with calls.

You then started on doing that ‘wicked’ plan of yours, spam calling him both on Discord and Instagram.

You were a master at spamming others using the calling technique? Not sure but you liked to call it a technique.

You continued doing so as you let the one on instagram ring for a while as you go ahead as grab a cup of water.

You hoped he’d decline it and finally respond to your dreadful replies, wasting sleep for him wasn’t easy because you were nearly asleep when you texted him a few minutes ago.

You settled the cup on the sink as you ended the call and started another one while you yawned, looking for some snacks to eat now that you’re downstairs.

Until you heard a certain sound coming out of your phone, hearing a voice come out of it - one you haven’t heard. Quite embarrassing to admit it took you a few seconds to realise your call had been answered.

You immediately got up from your position when you were in search for some midnight snacks. You quickly grabbed your phone as you listened to the voice.

“Y/N?” The one over the phone said, knowing your name. You froze for a moment before realising it is your friend who had answered your call.. oh dear.

You thought about it for a second, decline or not? It was a frustrating choice because you did want to hear his voice a bit more as you stayed silent.

You heard a cough from over the speaker, catching your attention as he spoke once more, “Hello?”

You now braced yourself, finally having the ugly guts to respond to him because you areee the one who called him in the first place.

“Hey,” You finally greeted back, seeming a bit nervous from the small stutter that probably wasn’t noticeable from the other side as you coughed.

You held your phone next to your face, having both hands hold your phone as you patiently waited to hear him continue talking.

“Sorry,” He apologised, “I’m kinda ..busy, right now,” He continued, chuckling weakly as you heard a small thud against the speakers of the phone.

You seemed kinda disappointed knowing that, wanting to talk more in call. You sighed, now going to say your last words before ending the call.

“Talk to you later,” He said, waiting for you to end the call as he held the phone close to him - which seemed obvious to you from the random shuffle in the audio.

“Yeah, uhm.. can we call again?” You asked hesitantly, wanting him to hear it despite it being a mumble.

Yeah, he probably have heard it since we’re in call.

“Sure,” He agreed with his voice being in such a calm manner yet so ..rushed? Before he had ended the call himself.

Sure? Sure.

Wow, not even a goodbye is crazy.

You thought, expecting a much more better response from him since he might have of been the reason why you’re staying up so late.

But he isn’t, you’re clearly the reason for not sleeping yet due to being pretty stubborn to sleep despite telling Miles you to go to sleep soon.

You aren’t, you’re waiting for his call, a message of some sort. You couldn’t erase the thought of hearing his voice once more out of your mind.

It particularly implanted as you felt your heart beat a bit faster.

And whats with all the noises in his part? Was he- was he doing that?.. No, no! Don’t think about that now. He’s the same age as you, it’d be weird - no, it’s somewhat normal..

No.. ew, yuck.

You grossed yourself out for thinking such a thing but the thuds? No, it was quite obvious he was outside - outside?! In public!? No, you’re overthinking it.

Just overthinking it? But why was he so tired? Why do you care so much?!

You’ve soon to come to a conclusion that you’re overthinking everything and that he was simply having a life outside of his phone and those noises were background noises of being hit in the stomach or what? What is this conclusion?

You closed your eyes, still downstairs and not up your bedroom as you sat on your couch thinking about that call.

Maybe you should move on, he probably did.

You stood up, walking over to your phone that you had thrown an ridiculous distance away from you.

You watched your phone light up as soon as you picked it up, showing a notification from discord as you read the user, M1LES_.

Miles.

MILES?!!

You had completely forgotten about how your phone could’ve been absolutely damaged as you instantly dropped it once again. It wasn’t a large distance from the ground but you still gasped.

You didn’t quite understand why you had a big reaction as you picked your phone back up. You looked at the notification, opening your phone

M1LES_: Yo

Y_OUR_NME: Hey

M1LES_: You still up to call?

You looked at the message for a bit more, not knowing what to say in response as you bit your lip in response.

Y_OUR_NME: Yeah

Y_OUR_NME: Sire

Y_OUR_NME: sure

You seemed pretty proud of yourself for your response, applauding yourself. Seeming a bit crazy as watched the cctv your guardian had set up turn away from you.

You looked back to your phone now, seeing the bubble stay there for a few moments as you got incredibly bored from waiting.

M1LES_: LAtr

LAtr.. that’s cute.. I guess.

Y_OUR_NME: Alr

You replied, now feeling yourself get s bit more nervous now that you got a somewhat confirmation that you’d actually.. be.. calling him.

You don’t know exactly when you’d be calling him so you tried to reduce your nervousness as you went inside your room and plopped onto your bed.

You placed your phone on the side of your face, your hand laying on top of it as you laid on your stomach.

Your face was basically implanted onto your pillow, feeling your nervousness either die down or reach a new kind of high.

Most likely a new level of high as you started to kick the air, feeling crazy since he could call you in any minute now.

You just hoped it wouldn’t be when you were about to fall asleep because you are about to fall asleep, and you hoped so badly he could just call you now.

You wanted to hear his voice, and you had no idea why you were so desperate to hear it once more.

You might be insane or you’re just someone who wants to online date a dude who has a great voice and you ridiculously haven’t seen despite being in the same city.

How weird is that.

Maybe you’re the weird one, but how to justify your weird thoughts with weird thoughts? Now you’re just speaking nonsense and you got no idea how to respond to you saying nonsense.

You were stuck in thought, rambling about nonsense while nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter played.. until the audio had slowly faded and started to ring in a ridiculously loud tune as you grabbed your phone to see M1LES_ calling.

He’s calling.

[hollister-mc]

STOP SO HERE ME OUT- My partner and I were talking about robots and shii, so what if-

Reader bangs Auto (YES AUTO FROM WALL-E JUST SHUT UP AND LISTEN) Bros the auto pilot right? so he's a wheel, don't even ask me how you could bang the wheel dawg theres so many ways. Anyway THEY'RE GOING AT IT, RIGHT? AND SOMETHING HAPPENS AND AUTO FUCKIN STARTS SPINNING- SO THE ENTIRE SHIP JUST GETS TOSSED AROUND, AND EVERYONES LIKE WTF?! AND READER AND AUTO AFTERWARDS ARE LIKE "Uh sorry everyone, we exountered some... asteroids..." OR JUST SOME SILLY SHIT LIKE THAT.

i wanna write it lowkey, like a crack fic that takes itself seriously, you know what I mean? Lemme know if I should curse us all with it.

[hidden-misthios]

Something in the Orange (part 2)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 601

Summary: When Geralt of Rivia disappears, Jaskier has no choice but to ask his best friend for help. Although struggling with her own issues, Y/N agrees and they join Vesemir and the others in Kaer Morhen. The search might be difficult but not as difficult as the certain redheaded witcher who keeps challenging her.

A/n: I’m sorry for a long wait! 

Part 1 is here.

Y/N sighs. Of course it had to be him.

“Where is he?” she asks Vesemir, not really trying to hide her reluctance.

“Probably in his room. I’ll take you there.” he offered. Y/N nods and follows Vesemir out of the library. They walked through the castle in silence while Y/N was trying to think of what to say to Lambert once she was there.

When they finally arrived, Vesemir knocked on old doors.

“What?” they heard him grumbling from the other side and then the doors opened. He slightly raised his eyebrows when he noticed Y/N.

“We need your help.” Vesemir said.

“’Course you do.” he said, suddenly sounding tired.

“Y/N is an oneiromancer.” Vesemir started but Lambert immediately realized where this conversation is going.

“No. I’m not letting her bewitch me!” he shook his head.

“I’m not going to ‘bewitch’ you.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She crosses arms on chests while stepping closer to him. Lambert instantly steps backwards.

“We are just going to have a quick nice chat about your last encounter with Geralt.”

“And that’s supposed to help us get him back? How?” he frowns, crossing his arms as well.

“So many questions.” Y/N sighs and passes by him, entering his room without his approval. Lambert was about to protest but Y/N was getting inpatient.

“I’m going to need a chair, right here” she points next to Lambert’s bed. “You’re going to lay down and drink this.” Y/N opens her leather bag and pulls out a small bottle of sleep potion.

“You can’t be serious. I’m not drinking that.” Lambert complains.

“Since you two have things figured out, I’m sure you don’t need me. I’ll see you both in the morning.” Vesemir quickly adds and before anyone could say anything, he leaves down the hall. Y/N looks at Lambert again, and throws a small bottle at him. He caches it but doesn’t even look at the bottle.

“I said I’m not drinking that. Are you deaf?”

“Listen, witcher.” Y/N is annoyed at this point but she keeps her voice steady and calm. “I’m trying to help you find YOUR friend. Are you really going to make this harder than it already is?” she crosses arms.

“It’s harder because you got involved, not because of me!” he raises his voice slightly. Y/N steps closer, getting into his personal space.

“If this doesn’t work, I’m out. Okay? You’re on your own.” Y/N tried to sound patient, but Lambert could still sense the annoyance in her voice. All of a sudden, he grins.

“Deal. If it doesn’t work right away, you and that ridiculous trumpeter are out. By the first rays of the sunlight.”

Y/N’s jaw slightly clenches. “Deal.” she agrees, not wanting to break the eye contact first. Lambert looks at her for couple of seconds longer and then suddenly turns around, grabs the chair next to him and effortlessly moves it next to his bed.

He opens the bottle that Y/N gave him and looks at its content. Dark green liquid didn’t exactly smell like honey and flowers but Y/N knew how powerful the potion was.

“Go on. Drink all of it.” Y/N says as she sat down. Lambert sits on the edge of his bed. He hesitates for a few moments before finally drinking the potion.

“Lovely.” he manages to speak before coughing a couple of times. Y/N grabs an empty bottle from his hand and leans back into her chair.

“Okay, now, lay down. I’ll explain how this works.”

Lambert doesn’t say anything but lays down and crosses arms on his chests.

“Relax. Firstly, we need to discuss the details of your bond with Geralt.”

“We are friends, brothers. There’s nothing to discuss there.” Lambert says shrugging his shoulders but Y/N could swear she heard a bit of discomfort in his voice. He wasn’t comfortable with sharing his feelings with her.

“Lambert, my ability works only if my clients are honest with me. Do not lie. Don’t keep the details from me. I need to know how strong is your bond. Try to flesh out feelings, emotions…Truth is essential in this.”

Y/N looks at him. At least he looks like he’s listening to her.

“So, what are you going to do once you see that dream of yours?”

“I won’t see anything. You will.”

“I don’t understand-”

“You will. Now, please, I need the strongest, most complete memory you have of Geralt.”

Lambert hesitates. This wasn’t what he expected when he agreed to do this. After a couple of seconds, he decides to share the memory of their first shared hunt - the one where they killed Chort, who came out of the dark forest while they were still tracking him. The Chort was a beast; large male who was protecting his territory and clearly didn’t want them near, but Geralt and Lambert already got paid by the nearby villagers to get rid of the creature.

“Did he save your life?” Y/N asks. Lambert nods, looking at the dark ceiling. He could still remember the moment he thought he was dying. His stomach twisted just like it did that day.

“What else should I know?”

 It took a while for Y/N to gather information mostly because Lambert didn’t know how to express his feelings but Y/N didn’t rush him.

He’s a witcher after all, she’d remind herself.

By what she heard, they had a complicated relationship and often disagreed but they did respect each other and had a strong bond.

“Alright now, relax, close your eyes. And try to fall asleep. Empty your mind.” she said, and with one quick flick of hand she increased the flames in the small fireplace. The room got warmer almost immediately.

Lambert’s face relaxed after a couple of minutes. Y/N stayed quiet. This was the most vital part. He was supposed to feel like he fell asleep but keeping him in the state between deep sleep and consciousness was Y/N’s job. Sometimes it took a while, so remaining attentive was essential.

She focused, took a slow, steady breath and looked at Lambert. His brows furrowed and his jaw slightly clenched. Then suddenly she felt a soft ‘click’ inside her mind.

Y/N did it! The dream was there. Now, she had to wait. And hope the main dream doesn’t mix with the rest. Sometimes, she couldn’t do anything about it. The sleeper’s mind just went too far off. But, for some reason, she knew that won’t happen now.

After what seemed like forever, Lambert slowly opened his eyes. Although he just woken up, he looked tired. Y/N gave him a minute to sit up and gather his thoughts.

“So?”

“It worked.”

Lambert didn’t waste time explaining. He got up, grabbed his swords and rest of the equipment, and left the room. Y/N followed.

“What did you see?”

“Vesemir will know what to do. Come on.” he hurried her, taking sharp left turn on the main corridor.

“It’s the middle of night!” Y/N reminded him.

“I’m certain he won’t mind.” Lambert said and stopped himself in front of the last door in dim corridor. He grabbed the knob and, without knocking first, pushed the doors and let himself in.

Vesemir, who was sitting next to the window, on an old wooden chair, immediately stood up.

“I know where he is.” Lambert said.

Vesemir’s lips slightly parted. He didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise.

“Kaer Seren.” Lambert said calmly but Y/N immediately heard there was something else behind those words. Vesemir started pacing around the room, mummering occasional swear words for himself.

“You know that place?” Y/N asked, realizing that the answer was obvious but she wanted to be included.

Lambert looks at Vesemir for the explanation. The older witcher doesn’t say anything but approaches the small wooden box that laid on his nightstand and opens it. He reaches inside and Y/N immediately realises he’s holding the letters they got from Geralt’s abductors.

“You see, Y/N, the person who did this, chose that place for a reason.” he says, handling the letter to Y/N. She approaches and slowly takes them from his unsteady hands.

“Kear Seren, or Caer y Seren, if you prefer Elder, used to belong to witcher school of the Griffin. Through decades, the Griffins gathered a massive collection of books about magic in their library. Council of Mages did not like this - mostly because the Griffins refused to share their knowledge. So, naturally, when they got their chance, mages destroyed the castle and its residents. The school never recovered. They are, of course, a few of its members left, but they don’t have a home to return to once the winter hits.”

“That’s…awfully depressing, actually.” Y/N admits, glancing at the letters in her hands.

“But that…That is supposed to be a lesson for us.” Vesemir says with a hint of warning in his voice.” For Geralt.”

Y/N’s throat tightens. “Are you suggesting that the Mages did this to-”

“I am not suggesting anything just yet.” he interrupts her.

Vesemir knew how this whole situation looked like.

Lambert turns to Y/N. “If this was your kind-”

“My kind is not me. I���m helping you and your friend. Do not forget that, witcher!” Y/N warns him, slightly raising her voice. Lambert’s jaw tightens and he slowly starts to walk towards Y/N. “That won’t make much difference to me if it turns out they hold him captive.”

Y/N felt the rage ignite inside her. She starts marching in Lambert’s direction, lifting her arm up to summon the spell. “You arrogant fuck, how dare- “

“Alright, that’s enough!” Vesemir stands between them, raising hands to stop them both from coming any closer. “Let’s talk about this in the morning. Everyone is tired and there’s nothing we can do in the middle of the night.” he says calmly. Neither Lambert or Y/N say anything. They both still stare at each other over Vesemir’s shoulder.

“Come, Y/N. I’ll show you your room.” Vesemir adds. Y/N hesitates for a moment, but decides to join him in peace and quiet. They leave the room without another word, leaving Lambert behind. Y/N notices just now that she was tightly griping the letters in her hand.

They walk for a while down the dark corridor, Y/N’s realizing her heart was still beating quickly from the rage she felt back there.

When they finally reached the guest room, exhaustion and weariness suddenly overcome her. It seemed like her conversation with Jaskier from this morning was weeks ago.

“I’m sorry for what Lambert said back there. We are all quite tense since we received those letters.” Vesemir says, discomfort written all over his face.

“No offense, Vesemir, but I really don’t want to talk about him right now. I really need some rest.” Y/N says honestly. Vesemir nods.

“Of course. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.”

Find me.

*****

Y/N sits up in her bed, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. For a few seconds, she’s not sure where she is. At first, she thought it was the castle from her dreams.

Y/N wipes away the sweat from her forehead and takes a long breath to steady herself.

That dream kept repeating itself all over again for a while now but this time it felt more tense, like she was running out of time. But why?

As soon as she looked around the dark cold room, she realized this is still Kaer Morhen.

Y/N takes another glance around the room and then slowly gets up to dress herself. It was barely morning – the sun was shyly peaking behind the snowy mountains. She wraps her winter cloak around her tired body – is seemed that this castle was cold no matter the season.

Suddenly she hears a light knock on the doors.

Her dream is going to have to wait again.

Y/N opens the door. It was Jaskier.

“You’re awake, good. If you’re already packed, we can go right away. Vesemir and the others are almost ready to go.” he says, entering the room and walking around. Y/N raises eyebrows.

“Go where?”

“To Kaer Seren, of course!” he says tensely rubbing palms together. “To find Geralt.”

“Jaskier.” Y/N starts, but stops because she wasn’t sure what to say to her friend. He raises eyebrows waiting for her response.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.” she says, remembering her fight with Lambert from the last night.

“What? To save him?” Jaskier asks, crossing arms on his chests.

“I’m not saying that!” Y/N answers immediately. “But it might be better if they all go without me.” she speaks softly, feeling the anxiety in her voice. Her friend frowns but doesn’t say anything right away.

“They? You know I’m going as well, right? I know he isn’t your friend. Not even someone you know well. But I do. He’s one of my closest friends, Y/N. I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to save him. I just can’t. So please” he approaches her slowly. “Do this for me. I’ll own you. I’ll even pay you.” he adds.

Y/N shakes her head. She felt horrible now.

“Jaskier, this has nothing to do you with the money. Or favours.”

“Then what else do you want me to offer you?” Jaskier asks, his voice almost cracking from his pleads.

Y/N takes a long breath and looks away.

“What did Vesemir tell you exactly?” she asks after a few seconds.

“That Geralt is held at Kaer Seren and that we need to go.” Jaskier answers, slowly losing his patience with Y/N.

“Jaskier. His captors might be someone who relies on Chaos.” she finally says.” Someone just like me.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to speak but stops himself. Y/N could almost see his thought process all over his face.

“Y/N, Vesemir wouldn’t-”

“But Lambert would.”

“You’re helping us. You’re on our side!” Jaskier exclaims.

Suddenly, the door of her room opens fully and they both turn around. Redheaded witcher crosses his arms and leans shoulder against the doorframe.

“But when the time comes, would you kill your own brothers and sisters for one pitiful witcher?”

Neither Jaskier nor Y/N say anything.

“That’s what I thought. And that’s why she’s not coming with us.” Lambert says, his eyes pierced on Y/N. She stares back, trying to hide her discomfort.

“Eavesdropper. And in matter of fact, I am.” she responds. Jaskier looks at her, not trying to hide his surprise.

“You are?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, I am.” she says, still looking at Lambert. He scowls, slightly shaking his head. Y/N doesn’t say anything. She didn’t know why she agreed to this.

She was aware this was dangerous for her. Lambert was right. Would she be able to kill a sorceress or a mage that was standing on their way?

But now it was too late. She agreed to come. She let him provoke her again. And this time, it was more serious.

“Alright. But let’s clear up some things, witch.” Lambert slowly walks towards her, until he’s just a couple of centimetres away from her face.

“If I, just a for second, doubt your intentions” he glances over her entire face. Y/N doesn’t move.

He’s standing too close.

“You’re done.” he says quietly. Y/N clenches her jaw but doesn’t lower her eyes.

“Get out of my sight, witcher.” she barely uttered the words. She wasn’t even sure if she spoke them louder than a whisper.

“Gladly.” he instantly responds and pulls back, leaving the room without another glance at her. And just like that, he was gone.

Y/N finally takes a breath. She wasn’t even aware she was holding it in until he was gone.

“Woah.” Jaskier says quietly, glancing towards the door as if he was expecting Lambert to come back.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“He really-”

“Hates me for no reason?” Y/N interrupts him. Jaskier slightly tilts his head, still looking towards the door as if he’s waiting for Lambert to come back.

“No, I don’t think that’s hate.”

Y/N raises eyebrows at her friend. “Is this witcher’s way of showing fondness? If so, I’m not so sure I want to save your friend anymore.” Y/N says.

Jaskier grins. “Geralt is not that bad.” he says but his grin slowly fades away.

“Y/N, are you really going to help us find him?”

Y/N slowly nods. “I will.”

“What changed your mind?” he asks cautiously. Y/N shrugs her shoulder.

“I…I’m not really sure. But I’ll do my best to help you and your friend.” she admits. Jaskier looks at her for couple of seconds and then cleans his throat.

“Alright then, that’s good enough for me. We should be on our way then!” he says, sounding more enthusiastically this time. Y/N agrees, and turns around to look for her bag. There was no reason to wait, they should be on their way as soon as possible.

“Vesemir and the others are already in the main hall. We should join them.” Jaskier says, heading towards the doors.

Y/N grabs the bag from the wooden chair and heads towards her friend. Just as she was about leave the room, she notices those letters that Vesemir gave her sitting on table next to the door.

Y/N grabs them, not really sure why would she need them.

When they finally joined Vesemir and the other witchers in the main hall, the sun had just fully risen and the day was about to begin.

“Y/N we need your assistance again.” Vesemir says after they all formed a circle in the middle of hall. Y/N counted – there was 6 of them. Vesemir, Lambert and Coen were standing with bags over their shoulders while Ciri, the only female witcher Y/N ever met, was holding only her silver sword, nervously switching weight from one leg to another. Jaskier gave Ciri a warm, comforting look but the girl looked at Y/N. Y/N tried to smile but it felt forced. There was nothing comforting or cheerful in conversation they were about to have.

“How can I help?” Y/N asks, turning to Vesemir.

“We need a portal. To Kaer Seren.”

Lambert and Coen groaned. Ciri gave them a warning look.

“Babies.” she mutters, crossing her arms.

Y/N nervously swallows. She wasn’t particularly good at making portals. Being oneiromancer didn’t require creating them anyway. Especially not so far away from her current position.

Or for so many people at once.

“I’m…I’m not sure if that’s good idea.” she honestly tells Vesemir.

“Why not?” Jaskier asks.

“Firstly, I’m oneiromancer – we don’t use portals as our primary form of transportation. Secondly, traveling that far with so much people cannot be done without huge risk.”

“What are the risks?” Jaskier asks carefully.

“Are you joking, bard?” Lambert interjected. “I’m not risking shit.”

“Cowards!” Ciri is slowly losing her patience. She turns to Vesemir. “Let me do it, please!”

“Child, we talked about this.” he speaks softly with the girl, disregarding her infuriation. “We need intractable portals. Yours could be traced from other side of Continent.”

“I don’t think that’s possible for anyone else either. Portals of those proportions are just too noticeable.” Y/N answers.

“I say we ride. That’s the safest option.” Lambert suggests.

“Ride to Kaer Seren is almost week long! They will kill him before we even pass Caingorn!” Ciri groans.

“They won’t kill him.” Vesemir says calmly. Ciri tilts her head and raises her eyebrows.

“How can you be so sure about that?”

Everyone is looking at Vesemir now.

“Because he’s being held as a warning. Those letters…they wouldn’t send it unless they want something from us. Something in exchange for Geralt.”

“Or someone.” Y/N adds. Lambert looks at her.

“What do you mean?” Vesemir asks before Lambert had a chance to speak.

Y/N takes a long breath, stopping herself before saying something that could trigger a new argument.

She carefully formed her next words looking at Ciri.

“If they want someone - “

“She thinks we are holding someone in our cells that they might want back.” Lambert says, crossing arms on his chests. He didn’t sound intimidating this time.

This time, he sounded like he was…mocking her. Y/N’s lips parted but she didn’t know what to say.

Ciri and Coen raise eyebrows at Y/N.

“That’s not what I meant!” Y/N says, realizing how terrible that sounded.

“No? Enlighten us then.” he shrugs. Everyone is looking at her. Even Jaskier, who has never been this quiet since Y/N met him.

“I was thinking… they might want someone else, but couldn’t get to them. Someone like Ciri.” Y/N tells him, but looks over to Ciri. Whitehaired woman looked enraged.

“I don’t care! Just because you think they might want me, won’t stop me from saving Geralt. End of discussion.”

“Cirilla.” Vesemir warns her and the girl’s expression soften a bit. “Y/N might be right.”

“Are you seriously agreeing with her!?” Ciri exclaims, stepping forward.

“I do.” Vesemir responds calmly, but lifts his palm when Ciri was about to protest again. “But I still think you should come with us.” he adds. Ciri stays quiet for a second and then nods. She glances at Y/N with some sharpness in her expression but doesn’t say anything.

“So here is what I suggest we do.” Vesemir says when he realizes Ciri calmed down. “Y/N. You’re going to make a portal. But here’s the catch – you’re not taking us to Kaer Seren.” he adds.

“No?” Y/N asks, slightly nervous when portals are brought up again. One look at Lambert and Coen and Y/N figures they might be as well.

“You are going to take us halfway. To Hengfors.”

[midgardian-witch]

Anxious Attachment

Reader ponders their relationship with the Moon Knight System and Layla and fears they may not be good enough. Unbeknownst to the Reader, their lovers have similar worries. Everything is fixed with communication, hugs and kisses.

AO3 [MASTERLIST]

tags: angst | fluff | anxiety | panic attacks | established relationship | gn!reader (reader is referenced with they/them pronouns) | polyamorous relationship

ships: Layla/Reader, MK System/Reader, Layla/MK System/Reader

Disclaimer: I do not have DID so my description of it is based on the show and my own research.

You watch them sometimes when they are too busy with each other to notice your staring. The way Marc's face grows soft whenever Layla smiles at him; the way Steven's eyes practically glow with adoration; the way even Jake seems to almost melt under her gaze. And then there is Layla with her dimples when she smiles and the love she shows without even saying a word.

They have all been through so much and still are so in love with each other. And there you are, wondering how the hell you have fallen between them, how you have managed to make them love you too. This polyamorous relationship still feels so new to you.

"You all right, love?"

Steven's words pull you out of your trance-like state. You blink a few times, probably looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. Your partners look at you with concern and it makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. With a sheepish smile you shake your head.

"I'm good. Just got lost in thought."

This isn't the first time your thoughts have drifted off while pondering your current relationship. You've never dated multiple people at once before so while you have been doing your research - also known as harassing Google for hours on end - it's still an ongoing process of navigating all of this. Layla, Marc, Steven and Jake have been in their tangle of a relationship for quite some time until you joined them. She had told you about her marriage to Marc, how she first met Steven and how later Jake revealed himself. It had been a struggle but ultimately worth it. You can see it in the way they move around each other - this deep and beautiful connection that they have cultivated.

And then there is you.

It's still difficult for you to grasp sometimes how these amazing, gorgeous people who are so perfectly in love with each other also want you in their lives. Not for any lack of self-worth; you like yourself just fine (most of the time, everyone has bad days after all). It's just that given all they had been through you feel guilty. Like you have somehow sidestepped all the difficult times and are now reaping the benefits of something you had no part in. They say three is a crowd so why add yourself to this equation if they could easily be just as happy on their own.

As the familiar feelings of guilt and self-doubt stir within you, you don't notice one of your partners approaching you until you feel a soft touch against your shoulder. You involuntarily twitch with surprise before your eyes focus on the man in front of you.

"Are you sure you're alright, cariño?"

Jake gently grasps your shoulders with both hands, his thumbs running soothing circles across your collarbone. You lean into it - craving the contact for one blissful moment in the hopes that his touch could ease away your worries.

His brows furrow as he looks at you with concern. Seeing him like this makes your stomach twist even tighter.

You hate making them worry about you. It's not enough that your partners are not only caring, good people, they also fight crime and jackals and evil deities on the side. A normal person would crumble under this amount of responsibility and danger and here you are adding to their worries.

Maybe you are just bad at hiding your feelings, maybe Jake is just that good at reading you but he just nods and pulls you into his arms.

"It's ok, mi amor. Whatever is on your mind we'll deal with it together. Do you want to talk about it?"

The solid weight of Jake's embrace grounds you. Whenever you are around any of your lovers you feel safe and protected. Especially with Jake. He has been the protector of their system since the beginning and now it feels like he has added you to the short list of people he would give his life for. In his arms you are safe from anything that could hurt you, from the outside or from inside your own head.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck and take slow, deep breaths. The scent of his cologne calms your senses. How the smell of a person can comfort you like this you might never understand. And in this moment you really don’t care.

You shake your head against his neck and mumble into his shirt that you'd rather not talk about it now. An affirmative grunt seems to end that conversation before you feel his hands slide down your backside. A short: "Hold on to me, baby" is all the warning you get before Marc lifts you up as you struggle to hold onto him.

Marc's way of comforting you is very different from his alters. While he is not too fond of talking about his feelings, his actions show how deep his feelings run. It’s the small acts of service done without any afterthought that make you feel his love every day. It’s little gestures like remembering what you like to drink in the morning after you wake up or just staying with you in silence when talking becomes exhausting and all you need is a comforting presence to recharge from the chaos that is life. There are no grand declarations of love under fireworks with Marc and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

He lays you down gently on the couch before turning to Layla.

"They're upset"

She looks up from the map she was reading - something for a new mission they'd told you - an eyebrow raised in concern.

Marc still hovers over you as if you could get shot any minute. His muscles feel tense under your hands where you are still holding onto him. Layla walks over to where you are laying down and motions you to sit up. When you follow her direction, she sits down next to you. As she pats her thighs a few times you get the hint and lay your head down on her lap. One hand gently pets your head as the other finds your free hand and intertwines her fingers with yours. You all but melt into her, her warmth enveloping you. You feel exhausted, mind spinning with anxious thoughts but her presence calms you like a soft blanket on a winter night.

Marc kneels down in front of the couch and links his hand with the one you still had on his shoulder. "They don't want to talk about it," he explains to Layla.

"Steven thinks talking about it would help," he turns to you, "I know I am not the best person to go to with stuff like this but. Do you want to talk about it with Steven? Or Layla?"

His voice sounds strained, like it takes effort getting each word out. He avoids looking into your eyes like it would physically hurt him. Layla leans down, pressing her lips on your forehead with a soft kiss.

"You don't have to talk, baby. But is this OK? Us cuddling? We can give you some space if you need it."

Layla sounds like she can't quite get the words out either. They both seem strained like they are holding something back. You nod, humming affirmatively before closing your eyes.

“This is good. Just this for now,” you mumble as you cuddle closer to Layla - short of crawling completely on top of her.

Before you even truly realize how exhausted your anxious mind has made you, you slowly drift off to sleep in your lover’s lap.

_________________________________________

Lately Layla’s dreams have been haunted by pictures of you leaving them for someone else, someone living a safe and normal life, someone without such a history of pain and sorrow. It had been hard enough to lose her father and later to see Marc die in that forsaken tomb. She couldn’t lose you too. But simply being with you puts a glowing target on your back. Maybe it’s hypocritical of her, given that Marc had probably felt similar when he gave her the divorce papers.

Her fingers play gently with your hair, short nails softly scratching over your scalp. She can hear your slow breathing as you rest. She would give everything to stay like this forever. And nothing and nobody would take you away from them as long as you would have them. She just needed to find the right words to tell you how she felt, how worried she is and be honest about her fears. You would understand, Layla is sure of that.

Layla looks over at Marc, who is still kneeling in front of the couch, holding your hand like it was made of glass. His gaze lingers on your sleeping form, unable to look away. It’s been hard for him to grasp how you can feel so safe around him to just fall asleep like that. How easily you trust him. He understands how you could feel that way around Steven. Steven is soft and warm and honest while he is not that. Or even Jake, that charming bastard. But here you are, sleeping like nothing could ever hurt you. Nothing better ever hurt you. He doesn’t know what he would do if something did. He can’t imagine how his life would be now without you and Layla by his side.

His hands around yours start shaking. How dangerous that thought is. Because one day you would realize that you could do better than him, that both you and Layla would be better off without him. He is not meant to have good things and good people around them. He only brings death to the people he loves. And he can’t do that to you. He can’t.

His jaw relaxes and his hands stop shaking as Steven takes the front. “That’s enough of that now”, he murmurs under his breath. He won’t have Marc’s self-deprecation. He knows Marc deserves love just like they all do. His thumb lovingly strokes the back of your palm as Steven watches you sleep. He worries too, that maybe he is too much sometimes. His rambling about Ancient Egypt and his general social awkwardness hadn’t really been things that had people drawn to him before. And yet Layla had seen and appreciated his honesty and you had been no different.

You were open and kind when you two had first officially met. When he tried to stop himself from continuing to talk about the creation myth of the Ancient Egyptians - which in retrospect was probably not the best topic to choose for a first meeting - you had encouraged him to keep going. Even if the topic wasn’t as fascinating to you as it was to him you hadn’t shown it. On the contrary you seemed delighted by his enthusiasm. You made it so easy to fall in love with you even if he hadn’t been half in love already watching you interact with Marc and Layla before.

He thinks that maybe that is why Marc was so afraid. Marc was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for those that he loves to leave or hurt him. Yet you love all of them so easily without wanting anything but being loved in return. And Steven was happy to give that love even if Marc struggled with it sometimes.

“They look so peaceful, don’t they, hermano? Nuestro ángel.”

Steven smiles at Jake’s comment.

“Yeah, they do. You want to. uh.”

Jake doesn’t wait for Steven to finish his question before switching to the front. He leans down and places a kiss to the back of your hand.

He still couldn’t believe how lucky they were to have you. He shares some of Marc’s concerns, especially when it comes to your safety. You trusted them so easily and he was afraid that that trust would come at a cost. But Jake would always keep you safe. Even if you someday left and broke their hearts he would still protect you from those that would hurt you. Feelings can change and maybe you’d really fall out of love with them some day but he would make sure to keep that day as far into the future as he could. To show you how much you are loved and cared for. To tell you every day how much you meant to them. To keep you by their side for as long as you want them to.

He turns your hand gently and places another kiss on the inside of your wrist, whispering words of love into your skin. The skin contact slowly tickles you awake and you blink owlishly at him.

“You woke them up, Casanova”, Layla admonishes him with a chuckle, “And they were sleeping so peacefully”. You turn your head slightly to look up at the woman under you. “How long was I-? Oh God did I fall asleep on your legs? Shit, sorry”. You scramble up still groggy from your short nap and sit up straight. Layla laughs and shakes her head. “No need to apologize, sweetheart. I was perfectly comfortable.”

Your other hand is still linked with Jake’s as he continues to pepper it with kisses, not holding back anymore now that you are awake. “Feeling better now, mi vida?”

It takes you a while for your sleepy mind to understand what he is referring to. A heavy sigh escapes you as you remember what prompted your little nap. You decide that it's better to talk to them now when everything is still fresh on your mind and you have your lovers close. You take Layla’s hand like you held it before when you laid in her lap. You give both of their hands a soft squeeze and take a deep breath.

“I do feel better, yes but there is something I need to talk to you about.”

You cringe as you see their faces fall. “That came out so bad. Ignore that. I just-” You shake your head as if it would help clear your head. “I worry sometimes. That I am not good enough. For you.”

Out of the corner of your eyes you see Layla leaning towards you, ready to interject. You give her hand another squeeze and shake your head. “Please, just let me say what I need to say first. Otherwise I am never going to get this out.”, you plead with a shaky voice. She bites her lip and nods, motioning you to continue.

“Your relationship has survived so much and when I watch you sometimes I feel like you would be better off if you didn’t have to care or worry about me too.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat but your mouth has gotten so dry that it doesn’t do anything but hurt. Unable to look your partners in the eyes, your gaze drifts down to your lap and the hands you are holding.

“I love you. So damn much. But what if that’s not enough?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to hold back the first tears that are threatening to escape. You feel arms around your shoulders, holding you close and fingers stroking your hands soothingly.

“We love you too, mi cielo. And that you love us is more than enough. It’s all that we need.”

You open your teary eyes to look at Jake. His gaze does not waver from you. You feel Layla’s soft lips on your cheek, driving away your tears. “We love you so much, sweetheart. I-”, her voice cracks and she too seems to be close to tears, “I worry that you don’t want us anymore. That someday you will find someone else that doesn’t put you in danger as we do.”

You look over at Layla, her dark eyes shining with unshed tears. It breaks your heart seeing her like this. You shake your head. “That won’t ever happen!”

“You don’t know that.”

The grip around your hand tightens, shaking fingers holding onto you like a lifeline. You look back at Marc, a look of torment on his face. “We love you. And we can’t lose you. I can’t-”, he takes a deep breath, steadying himself, “I can’t see you be hurt. And if you get hurt because of us? If you don’t want us anymore…” He trails off, eyes unfocused as he clings to you like a lifeline.

You lean down and grasp his face with both hands. “I could never not want you. I love you too much for that to happen. And whatever tries to hurt me - hurt us - we’ll get through that together.”

Marc’s gaze is locked to your eyes. Slowly he nods his head. His hands are still shaking a bit but he seems calmer, less frantic. You lean down further, your mouth catching his in a soft, loving kiss. “I love you. And I am safe.”, you whisper against his lips. His eyes close and he nods again, swallowing hard. “Yes”, he whispers back, his voice rough. You feel the weight on the couch shift as Layla leans forward to join you. Her lips find Marc’s in another kiss and you watch them as your heart swells with how much you love them. Layla whispers something you can’t hear to Marc and they both turn to you. You reach out and stroke Layla’s cheek lovingly before leaning in to kiss her too.

“And I love you too. I can’t imagine anyone I could love more than you or Marc or Steven or Jake. I love all of you.”

[alienisticxo]

hi friends! 🩷

i just wanted to pop in and say i am so sorry for being so far removed from tumblr lately! my real life has been so busy and things have picked up more than i expected without slowing down at all. i haven’t finished Before the Fever yet, and i still have no intention of abandoning it! things have just been crazy (i am still very much on the Halo train irl, game and series wise lol). i will definitely get to it, and the other WIPs i have again soon, but for the moment i am on a slight hiatus until i can find a good rhythm in the craziness lol.

that being said i do miss you guys and i can’t wait to be back writing and fawning over our faves again soon!!! also thank you for hanging in and still showing love on my fics, i still check in and see you guys, it means a lot!

in the meantime if you wanna keep more in touch on my RL stuff don’t hesitate to message me or send me an ask so i can message you. i’m still always looking for a Halo buddy to play with too 🖤

[fandomnerd9602]

Wired (part one)

Gemma x Programmer!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

"F1D0, find the 5/8th hexagon wrench" you issued the command to your robotic canine. The robot's ear perk up before running over to your toolbox. The canine's tail wags back and forth as it searches before picking up one wrench and laying it at your feet.

"Am I a good dog?" the robotic AI voice of your dog spoke up. You inspect it and smirk.

"This is 3/4 bud. But close enough." you pull out a few nuts and bolts and toss the metallic treats to your bud.

"Good try F1D0" you give him a little pet on the head. Your phone goes off. The caller ID reads "Emergency Services"

"Hello?" you answer with a shaky voice.

Losing your brother and your sister in law is one of the hardest things you ever had to do in your life. Your niece was in a neckbrace and all you and your fellow in-law, Gemma, the lead programmer at Funki was watching from the sidelines.

"Been awhile" Gemma gives you a sad smile.

"Too long" you flirt back. "How's BRUCE doing?"

"Fine. Still laying in the back of my workshop" she answers. You place a gentle hand on her.

"I'm here if you need me Gemma."

"I know. Just keep your horrible kazoo playing away from me. You're a better programmer than musician"

"One time! That was one time in college" you roll your eyes as the authorities lead you and Gemma into a small room. Legal custody for your now orphaned niece fell to Gemma. You offered to check in on them instead of them sending some therapist.

You helped Cady get settled into her new room.

"Uncle Y/N do you have to go?" she practically begged you to stay.

"I'll be back in the morning, C. Besides I need to get Fido settled into the motel room." you explain, "the only other available room is your aunt Gemma's and I can't put up with her obnoxious snoring"

You top it off with a little snoring sound, earning a little laugh from your injured niece. You turn to see Gemma looking at you and rolling her eyes. You follow her out and shut the door behind you.

"How do you do it?"

"If its my good looks, its my cross to bear" you joke.

"How are you so good with Cady?" Gemma looks at you.

"She just needs to know that she's loved. Gemma, you're an amazing roboticist but you need to wear your emotions a little more on your sleeve. Cady needs that."

You turn to head out the door.

"Is that why you never agreed to a second date?" Gemma playfully asks you.

"I never disagreed to one." you smirk back before heading out to your hyundai.

You got F1D0 settled into your little motel room and attached his server to the only working wi-fi source.

"Now lets go over the laws again, bud" you look at your robotic companion.

"i must not injure a living creature." the robot dog answers.

"Good. Now the second."

"I must obey orders unless it goes against the first law"

"Under some circumstances. I have the access key to that one. Now the last."

"I must protect my own existence unless it goes against laws one and two." the dog concludes, "am I a good dog?"

"Yes you are." you give the robot dog a pet on the head and look to a picture you carried with you. One of you and Gemma back in college, working on Bruce. Better times. Maybe it can work out.

To Be Continued...

[archangelsunited]

WIP on the Correct Day.

Tagging: @kookaburra1701@orfeoarte@gilgamish@thana-topsy@changelingsandothernonsense@tallmatcha@snippetsrus@rainpebble3@rhiannon1199@inquisition-dragonborn@the-storytellers-seer@thequeenofthewinter@elfinismsarts@paraparadigm@friend-of-giants@saltymaplesyrup@weirdponytail@ms-katonic-of-tamriel@mareenavee

Little something I cooked up so I would cook something else.

               “Look, I’m just saying that crossing the border in the year of your divines 201, might not be the best idea.” You stooped down to pull at the laces of your boots. Your husband, six and a half feet of dark green orc, is staring at your backside again. It is fascinating how the love of a big ass will travel across time, space, and culture.

               “And I’m just saying, its none of your business how I earn my money.” You turned to look at his face, which was a bit blank. He had been upset since you had taken the job as a courier. Something something, stronghold, something something, stay in the kitchen. You stopped paying attention after he brought up the word “female”. You didn’t have a dick in this life, which was a bit disappointing, but the chest was an improvement. Sex was fantastic, multiple orgasms for the win.

               “Look, I don’t care if you’re selling Falmer Blood Elixir, or if you’re robbing priests at knife point.”

               “Neither of those.” He rolled his eyes at you.

               “I CARE about you being near the border of Skyrim and Cyrodill this year.” You pulled on the stupid looking cap that completed the look.

               He held up his hand. “I swear on the name of my father, I won’t go near the border.”

               You were pretty sure he was lying, since the last time he swore on the name of his father he had cut the man’s head off with an ax. Still, if he was determined to get himself killed, there wasn’t much you could do to stop him.

               “Alright, then. I’m going to Dawnstar, I’ll meet you in Whiterun in a few months, yeah?” You tried to drink in the details of his face. The broken tusk, the scar over his nose- it was unbearably precious to you.

               He reached forward, putting a big hand behind your head. He pressed his forehead against yours. His breath was heavy in your face and it made all the blood in your body rush to your face. You placed your hands on the sides of his neck. Your fingers brushed the muscles along his spine.

               “Ozor, I am serious.”

               His hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing slightly.

               “I’ll see you in Whiterun, then you can ride my face.”

               You sighed. That was going to be the best you were going to get.

               <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

               Ozor woke with a crick in his back and the taste of blood on his tongue. Someone had taken the Amulet of Mara from around his neck. His hands were bound.

               “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”

               Ozar groaned. He had a fleeting thought to listen to his wife more.

               <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

               You were on your third day wandering around Whiterun when someone spots a dragon. You took that as your cue to get the hell out of dodge, but the guards have already locked down the city.

               “Look,” you said to the guard at the gate. “I’m a lollygagger. I have nothing to do, and no coin with which to do nothing with. The best thing you could do- no, your DUTY to your Hold is to let me get eaten by a dragon.”

               “Aye, most likely.” The guard nodded in agreement. “But if the Jarl says the gate stays shut, then the gate stays shut. But I’ll take your offer to stand as dragon bait under advisement.”

               You were about to argue some more, and the guard was about to let you. He was as bored as you were, when the gate creaks open, just a smidge, and an orc stumbles through. He’s charred, missing a bit of one tusk, and a bit of his hair is burnt off.

               He looked suspiciously like your husband.

               He was wearing some blue armor that is barely strapped on to his chest, and some pants that look about twelve inches too short.

               “You, hey you.” Your voice wass almost cracking with excitement, or would be cracking. “You ran right into that-”

               “You had to turn up at the gate?” Your husband asked. “You had to turn up at the gate, so you could personally deliver the I-told-you-so? And how the fuck did you know-”

               Ozar gave a rasping cough, then bent double.

               “It doesn’t matter how I knew.” You said, with the air of someone who was going to be thoroughly fucked (hopefully, it had been a dry bit of time. You’d been saving the coin for a private room when he got there). “What matters is you didn’t listen to me.”

               Ozar let his weight fall on you completely.

[abbyhaslongshorts]

Lighter

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gn!reader

Author's note: Hello!! So, this is my first fanfic I'm posting! I was compelled to write a vent piece one fateful Sunday a few weeks ago and of course Mathew Murdock had to be my source of comfort. It is edited, but if there is any mistakes message me and let me know. Hopefully you enjoy and find at least some comfort when reading!

Summary: You are no longer alone. Matt Murdock is by your side, hand in hand, ready to share the weight of the past with you.

Content: Catholic guilt, guilt, Christianity, comfort brought to you by Matt Murdock.

Sundays growing up had always begun the same. Wake up. Ignore the yelling. Ignore the dreaded weight of guilt nagging in the back of your mind. Brick by brick, it would weigh you down. Feet dragging as you get dressed in your Sunday best. 

If church was supposed to be a place of comfort and peace, then why had you always felt the opposite of that? Instead, it was silent chaos in a place of refuge. Walking through the heavy wooden doors, minutes before the priest and the clergy would walk down the aisle, the guilt, responsibility, and pent up rage would begin to pile on your shoulders, waiting for you to collapse under the weight of it. Even if the church caused pain, its familiarity would wash over you; the smell of incense, the colorful lights bleeding through the stained glass, and the redundancy of mass.

As time passes, the priest's words would mull over in your head, then be thrown to the side like a used rag. There is only so much you can do to avoid the extra weight that would inevitably fall upon your consciousness.

Then on one fateful morning, there it was, the light separating you from the darkness. The dark veil crumbled, suddenly you could sit up straight and breathe easier. You had found your savior in the depths of hell. That crushing burden of responsibility and guilt was now shared. You no longer had to endure it alone. He no longer had to endure it alone. Each stitch sewn into his skin and each smirk he threw your way intertwined your hearts with one another. His unfocused hazel eyes would comfort you through opaque red lenses as you walked into the old church that smelt of incense and wine. Hands clasped, both of your hearts bare, set on the foot of the altar that is your love. Soothing fingers circled your pulse. He would flash you a soft smile as your heart rate briefly increased. He squeezes your hand lightly to let you know that he is there and you both are no longer alone. 

It’s not easy for either of you to be there, stand in a church that housed haunting memories; in the church that housed the love of your life during his darkest times. But you are there together, and both of your shoulders have never felt lighter. 

Mass goes by faster. You sit with him, shoulder to shoulder, hands never leaving each other. A playfulness falls over you, perhaps even getting comfortable in the colorful house of God. You kick each other's feet as quietly as possible, sometimes trying to make the other slip up while singing a hymn, or suppress giggles as he tells you that a person on the other end of the church farted.

He often says you saved him, that you are the angel that guided him back from the depths of hell, but he saved you too. Your fallen angel, Matthew Michael Murdock, saved you from the overwhelming loneliness and guilt that had built up over a lifetime. Your St. Murdock, on his knees for you, bringing justice to those who can’t do it themselves, welding the name of a figure you both once feared.

So now when you find the time in between jobs and patching up the devil to make your way to church, you're not alone. Matt Murdock is by your side, hand in hand, ready to share the weight of the past with you. The bells chime, and the organ begins to play, yet you have never felt lighter.

[the-blind-geisha]

The Bride of the Four Horsemen - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The White Horse of the Plague - Conquest

Thank you again, @DestiniDestati for your commission and desire to support this story!

There was something uncomfortable about even being in the presence of this man. The way he presented himself, spoke, all of it—it made me feel a memory rattle in the back of my mind that I wanted to leave dormant.

Imprisoned within his office, I found comfort in the fact that Ignis was at least at my side. If anybody could see through any dark veil that a person could cloak upon themselves, he would.

I demanded answers the moment this Delta sat down behind his desk. “Now, what do you want with us?”

Delta overlapped his fingers, grinning ear to ear as he eyed us up and down. “Merely wanted to chat about something, my Lady. I thought it would have been better for your ears alone, all things considered.”

That sounded like a threat.

Ignis could sense me tensing up, urging him to outstretch his hand to prevent me from lashing out if I so chose to. 

I knew better. I would dare not do such a thing, even if I felt compelled. “What are you hinting at? Hurry it along, as I do not desire my time to be wasted.”

Delta sighed with a playful roll of his eyes. “Mm, of course.” He went quiet, perhaps debating on what to say about it all. “You know, there are stories out there that speak of a missing astral.”

There was a feverish beating in my heart the moment he said such a thing. “You listen to such fairy tales?”

He scoffed at me. “They interest me, dear Bride of Chaos. Of course I do. Sometimes fairy tales hold truth to them.”

I pretended to be disinterested. “Get to the point.” In a way, I knew he wouldn't. He loved playing around with me for some reason.

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Everything Stays

Pairing: Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: this made me feel things 🥲, canon character death, war, trauma, grief, siblingxsibling, regret, guilt/shame, Rhysand's family have names in this fic, fingering, blame, sorry no happy ending 🙃, goes downhill very fast, so yeah be prepared for that, had a deep hunger for a big bowl of sadness

Words: 4857

Summary: You should have been there with your mother and sister. You should be dead

"What are you doing here?!" Your mother's hiss would put a stop to any fun you and your brother were having. Really, it was rather dangerous for a young fae child like you to follow close behind your mother and brother as they traveled to the Illyrians mountains. The war camps weren't meant for little girls. If someone else had found you, they would have immediately clipped your wings before your father could get ahold of you.

Elowen usually had a gentle personality but when of her children dared to act stupidly, she wasn't afraid to show a bit of tough love. Especially toward her stubborn daughter. Little Isolde didn't mind being left back at father's court.

"Run!" Rhysand shrieks at you with a wild grin while Cassian hoots and hollers in support.

With a squeal, your wings start to flap; preparing your body to pick up wind. Only you're not fast enough for take off. Elowen grabs you by your ankle before you could really put distance between you and ground. Not like that would help you much. Your mother was a fast flyer.

"I tell you to stay home for a reason! You could've been killed following us!" Then she turns her attention to the two boys who were attempting to sneak away. "And you two! Both of you knew and let her? You're supposed to look after her."

"But I wasn't hurt!" You argue, trying to twist yourself out of your mother's grip. "I kept up with all of you without even being spotted!"

She's exasperated by you, you could see that on her face as she pinches at the bridge of her nose. "You willful girl."

You think she's upset or even worse, disappointed, until you watch her shoulders move as she chuckles softly. You may exhaust her, but you're constantly surprising her.

"As punishment, you have to stay by my side at all times when we're in the war camp. Understand?" Elowen chides but it was a fairly light sentence for you.

Smiling over at your brothers, they share your sentiment with their own large grins.

It was hard enough separating you from Rhysand to begin with, but since Cassian joined the family it was now near impossible to separate you from the two of them.

The three of you would not have carefree childhoods. Elowen knew this as she watches the three kids run around in the tall grass before Rhys and Cass were forced to go down to the base and train with the other young bloods.

Her eyes are glued particularly to you and Rhys who is fixing a weed that took the shape of a common flower into your hair. He's proven to be the sweetest brother through the years. First with you then with Isolde, but you had a special place in Rhys' heart. There was a depth to the relationship between the two of you that your mother couldn't quite place. If it were any other children, she would say that they might have had a crush on each other. That they were in love. Which to Elowen, looking at you and your brother, seemed obvious. Of course there's love between the two of you. You're siblings and strikingly close in age. However, sibling love wasn't it either.

"Mama!" your hands grasp at her arm, jerking to get her attention. Owlishly blinking, she gazes down at the roundness of your face. "Rhys and Cass says it's time for them to head to training. And you said I can't be away from you at the camps, so. . ." To make a point, you tug her toward where said boys were already heading down the mountain to where the Illyrian camp was.

Elowen breathes out a laugh and nods. She lets you continue to pull her along the path, her wings unfurling. You marvel at them. They were living testament to the grace and strength of your mother. You hope to one day have wings as beautiful as her's.

The dress your mother made you for your coming of age ceremony was by far her best work yet. Isolde oo's and ah's at the glittering jewels that look like stars and the shining of the silver thread meticulously stitched into it. She's gentle with the way she touches the dress, as if it were a sacred garment.

You kneel down with her on the ground. "Mother really outdid herself this time, didn't she?"

Isolde nods enthusiastically. "I don't know how she does it. She's so fast with needle and thread." You saw the admiration in her eyes. Much like you did, Isolde adored your amazing mother. She'd been learning how to sew slowly, even embroidery similar to the fine details on your dress.

Lovingly, you play with one thick strand of her dark hair. Play with it and catch the undershades of it from the sunlight. Isolde had the darkest hair that it looked the darkest shade of blue. "Are you excited for tonight?"

Your younger sister snorts a laugh, something she'd picked up from you much to your father's dismay. "This party is for you. And you're asking me if I'm excited? Are you excited?"

Indifferent, you shrug. This would just be like the many other parties and balls put on through Prythian. Only difference was that it was dedicated to you. Honestly, you had more fun watching your siblings enjoy themselves. Especially when Rhysand would dance with Isolde and Elowen. Even cuter was Cassian stepping in to take her hand for his own dance.

"I guess I'm a little excited." You hum and stand back up to stretch your legs. "It's fun to watch all of the different courts mingle together. Looks weird how different each fae is from their respective court."

Isolde purses her lips, hands retracting from the gown as she gazes up at you with doleful eyes. "This party also means that father intends to find you a husband."

Yes, it was something both you and your siblings dreaded. The day your father would give you away to another important lord who would take you away from your family. Something Rhysand had brought up late last night when you'd snuck into his room. He knew it made grim pillow talk, but it was on both of your minds as your coming out ceremony. There would be nothing he could do to keep you in his arms. Not when your father was still the High Lord.

"Yeah. . . lets hope it'll take him a while to pick one out for me." You were still safe, at least for tonight. Tomorrow would be a different battle for you. "For now though, I'm free."

You don't like how your sister's expression is now heavy with sadness. For being younger than you, Isolde was already an inch taller than you were and easily wraps her arms around your neck to bring you into a hug. Your cheek brushes against the softness of her hair, inhaling the sweet jasmine that scented her tresses. Elowen once joked that the real parents to Isolde might as well have been you and Rhysand. Since your sister's birth, you and your brother did treat her like your baby. To the high faes, babies were more precious than any gold or gemstone and you and Rhysand treated her as such.

"I don't want you to ever get married." She whispers and you can't help the giggle that bubbles in your chest and past your lips. A sentiment she'd shared with you plenty times before. It was everyone's one major fear. Well, except for your father. He thought it was long past for you to be engaged. You'd heard him mention something about clipping your wings once. So that you wouldn't be able to fly away from your chosen spouse. Thankfully Elowen had quickly shut that down vehemently. No daughter of her's would have their wings clipped for as long as she lived.

"I know. I don't every want to get married either."

"Except for Rhysand?"

Sharply inhaling, you pull away from her to give her a stern look. "Isolde, we all know that's impossible. You shouldn't say those things out loud. What if someone else heard?"

"He'd be a good husband for you though! And that would mean you wouldn't have to ever leave us." she argues back.

She doesn't mean anything bad by it, but you couldn't risk anyone hearing your conversation. You lower your voice to a whisper. "He's my brother. No one in Prythian would allow it. Because. . . because siblings can't be mates. Can't marry each other."

Still not quite understanding, her lips fumble with more questions but you merely shake your head and pat her cheek.

"No more of this, Isolde. Please."

Hating to upset you, she closes her mouth and stiffly nods. Isolde murmurs out an apology but you dismiss it. There was nothing for her to apologize for.

You sigh and instruct her to start getting ready for the night's festivities. Ducking her head, she leaves you alone in your room to ruminate on your own dreary thoughts.

This truly was the beginning of the end for you.

Pleading with your own tears not to fall, you lean against a bedpost as it was the only source of support in that moment.

If only you were able to be with Rhys. To live out the rest of your days with him, happily ruling the Night Court together. If anyone knew of these thoughts you had, they would immediately condemn you. Marrying cousins was all fine and dandy, but immediate blood like siblings was another thing that was completely looked down upon both by the fae and human society. Rhysand would never be allowed to take over as High Lord and you would never be seen as a queen. Any children you had together. . . there'd be many cruel words slung at any children. In the courts, the lords regard you and your siblings as halflings due to your mother's Illyrian lineage.

Cassian was the only one worthy to know your secret, and apparently Isolde too to some extent, that you and Rhysand were actual mates. That rare connection which not many faes experience in their lifetime. Five years ago it finally snapped in place, confirming to your joy (and horror) that you and Rhysand were destined to be together in a intimate way. Rhysand was over the moon but understood the trouble that would come from this.

This was a secret difficult to keep hidden since you were official mates. Rhys would display the typical protectiveness of males when they're around their mate.

With stiff fingers, you lift up your hairbrush. You had to get ready too.

Through the whispers of your bond, you feel Rhysand's own trepidation.

Deep breaths, my love. Your mind attempts to soothe him, a hand to a cat's arching back. Rhysand's tendrils caress against that calming thought. You wish nothing more than to nuzzle against his conscious. Let Rhys sweep you up and take you back to the mountains. Back to the cabin that was filled with both wonderful memories and those splattered with blood. The only place where the both of you could be yourselves without discriminating stares.

You give yourself a once over when you finish putting on the last details of your outfit. A bundle of red poppies mixed with the dainty white dots of baby's breath are strewn in your hair. One who was savvy with the language of flowers would understand: poppies for 'I am not free' and baby's breath for 'everlasting love'. Your only flag of rebellion against the High Lord of the Night Court.

Outside in the hall, you already hear the faint sound of revelry vibrating from the main audience hall where drinks were freely flowing. A few sconces fixed to the corridor's walls cast a warm, orange glow that gave you a false sense of security. Instead of heading for the rest of the party, you turn the other way to where Rhys' rooms were. He probably wasn't ready yet. Your brother liked to be fashionably late to everything.

When you get to his door, you hear other voices from his side. The low, gravely chuckle of Cassian and Azriel's calming tenor. Being the typical snooping sister, you take a mini step forward, hold your breath and press your ear to his door.

"You have us. Tonight will be fine." Cass reassures his brother and you can practically image his broad grin that made his rugged features soften. "We won't let you do anything stupid."

That only causes your brother to groan. "You're the one who always encourages me to do stupid things!"

Az's laugh sounds incredibly close, in fact he probably already knew you were there on the other side eavesdropping thanks to his tattling shadows. "I'll be the one to make sure neither of you do anything stupid."

All three share another laugh. Your own smile curling on your lips made your cheeks hurt. How you loved your three idiots. Why couldn't the Cauldron have fated you to fall in love with Cassian or Azriel? It would make things easier for everyone.

I would not have it any other way. Rhys' voice rings in your head right before his bedroom door swings open.

You squeal and stumble backward but Rhys snags your waist and lifts you off of your feet to be unceremoniously thrown over his shoulder. "Put me down!!" The other two males playfully jeer at the little door mouse that was caught.

"Naughty girl!" He merely laughs and throws me onto his plush bed.

"You could have ruined my hair!" You glower at him once you finally manage to sit up. The three of them are giggling like school girls. You swat Rhysand's hand away when he tries to tuck a stray strand behind your ear.

"Ah don't worry. You still look drop dead gorgeous." Cassian grins. "Unfortunately for the males out there tonight. We fear Rhysand might claw out a few eyes."

"And it would serve them right for looking at his mate like that." You nod, supporting any and all eye gauging. That makes Cassian hoot a laugh.

Azriel chuckles as he goes to Cassian and throws an arm around the other's shoulder. "We'll wait for you two downstairs. Don't keep us waiting."

Their laughter was still audible, even with Rhys' bedroom door closed. Finally alone, Rhysand sinks beside you onto the bed. His fingers are soft as a brush against your cheek.

"You do look beautiful tonight." Rhysand murmurs in that sultry way that was an instantaneous knee shaker. "And I really fear I might attack any male that gazes at you with interest." The darkening tone of his voice tells you of what he wishes to do with you. His hand going to the back of your neck to press you closer to him was enough of a tipoff.

If you let him though. . . the other males at the party would be able to smell him all over you.

Choosing to be the responsible one, you pull away. "Rhys. You promised to be on your best behavior."

He just chuckles and pulls you toward him again. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am behaving, sweetling." His cheek brushes against your's as he goes in to graze your neck with his sharp teeth. The roaming hands on you said otherwise. Rhysand cupped your ass, nearly lifting you off the floor with his strength. "You, however, are not behaving. I can smell your needy pussy."

Your breath catches in your throat when he turns you around and bends you over his bed. You want to fight him off, really you do, but the moment he pushes the skirts of your dress up you knew you were a goner. You'd let him do whatever he wanted.

"Just a taste, sweet girl." Rhysand separates your thighs to reveal your glistening lower lips. He dips two fingers in you. Your fingers grip at the bed sheets while you smother your face to keep all moans inaudible. Hips betray you when you find yourself grinding against his fingers. The obscene squelching noise from Rhys pumping his fingers in and out of you has your whole body shivering.

Rhysand knew your body better than anyone else. Knew how to make you come undone with just a few strokes and rolling of your clit. Your pussy walls clench around his fingers, restricting their movements or trying to. Rhys was relentless, grinning at your pitiful cries, muffled by the blankets you smother your face with.

Pulling his fingers out as you finish riding out your orgasm, Rhysand licks away the milky cream that coated his fingers. You wonder how he plans on hiding his erection. It was obvious as it strained against the dark fabric of his trousers making a visible tent.

Nonchalantly, Rhysand helps you to stand after cleaning you up a little with a discarded shirt of his. "Alright. Now we're ready."

You gawk at him, your cheeks still flushed. "You're not ready! Look at your dick! Poor thing is straining in your pants."

He loudly laughs and reaches down into his pants to readjust his cock. Settling it against the band of his pants. "There. Better?"

"Not really since the others are going to-" Your brother cuts you off with a heated kiss.

"Stop fretting, sweetling. This evening is supposed to be fun right?" Rhys smiles, tucking a few strands of your hair back into place. He appraises your face by tilting it ever so gently to make sure nothing else was out of place. With a satisfied smile, Rhysand's hand falls to hold your's. "Lets go show everyone my beautiful girl."

Perhaps Rhysand did too well of a job in showing off his goddess-like sister because now all male eyes were glued to you. Hungry eyes that were starting to tick off your brother the longer he was by your side.

Eventually Azriel and Cassian pull him away, saying that they should get some drinks while you mingled.

You weren't alone for too long though. The High Lord of the Night Court takes Rhysand's place. He steers you toward his influential friends and fellow High Lords. Particularly the gold haired members of the Spring Court.

Cordially smiling, you play along. All the while you can feel Rhysand's eyes watching your every movement. His thoughts flowing freely to you. His jealous snarls when Tamlin dares to ask you for a dance has you giggling.

He was a good dancer, you'd give him that. Excellent on his feet. Easy on the eyes too (that musing had Rhys fuming).

As Tamlin twirls you around, you happen to catch your father and Tamlin's speaking to one another while casting glances over at the two of you.

You didn't like the way they conspiringly whisper to one another.

And neither did Rhysand as he and his brothers linger closely to eavesdrop. There was a slim chance that your father would betroth you to Tamlin, the youngest of the Spring Lord's sons. Ideally your father would want the eldest son, Pryr.

When the dance ends, you pull from Tamlin with a smile though he seems reluctant to release your waist. "Thank you for the wonderful dance, Tamlin."

"If you're up to it, I'd be more than happy to be your partner for the next." Tamlin proposes.

Not likely, Tam. You hear Rhysand hiss through your bond.

And on perfect cue, Isolde bounces between you and Tamlin. She beams up at you with those pretty amethyst eyes and gives you a quick wink. "Wow Tamlin! You were amazing! Can I be your partner for the next dance?"

You see he's prepared to say no but was struggling to phrase it as nicely as he could. "That's a wonderful idea, Isolde! A talent like Tamlin's should be shared." You turn expectantly to Tamlin. "You'll take care of her, right?"

"But-"

"Of course he will!" Isolde snatches Tamlin's hand and pulls him back to the dance floor.

You definitely had the best sister ever.

You flee to where your three Bat Boys were standing before Tamlin could realize what had just happened. Cassian is trying to hide his laugh.

"I don't think you could've gotten out of there faster than you did. Thought I saw your wings carrying you." Cass chuckles and hands you a glass filled with rose flavored alcohol. You lean along the wall with them, between Rhysand and Azriel, as you watch the rest of the partygoers. Tamlin's older brothers were stuck to their father as usual. The perfect sons. Observing as the High Lord of Spring murmurs to his oldest son. Pryr's eyes suddenly lock onto your's.

Quickly you avert your gaze and go to drinking from your glass.

Rhys doesn't miss it either.

Sweet days with your siblings were over and any thoughts of your engagement were set aside. War was battering the world at all angles that didn't leave you and your family exempt. A battering of wings against slings of arrows and offensive magic alike. You saw bodies fall from the sky. The dry dirt soaking up the still warm blood of comrades. You'll never get that smell out of your head for as long as you live. Nor the fear that seized you when you cared for a wounded Rhysand, Cassian or Azriel. Your fingers ached from the long hours you were forced to brandish your blade against oncoming enemies of Hybern.

You saw your mother and sister less and less. Your father raged that you should also be left behind with them. Being a female and all. There was no way that you were leaving Rhys' side. The High Lord of the Night Court really should have clipped your wings when he could. Constantly disobeying him thanks to the ability to fly, you followed the war camps much to his displeasure. He couldn't keep you away.

Rhysand himself tried a few times to talk you out of fighting alongside him. The hardening of your eyes was enough to shut Rhysand up and accept the fact that there was no getting rid of you. If it meant you could potentially die next to him, so be it. A death with Rhysand didn't sound so bad to you.

The four of you persevered though. Hybern was all but defeated. There were still a few lingering troops left in Prythian but nothing your army couldn't handle. It was the end of the road for them.

"Mother and Isolde will be in the southern Illyrian camp." You grip the small note in your hand, smiling. You hadn't seen them in months.

Rhysand pats his lap and you flutter over to him, perching yourself on his strong thighs. His elegant hand takes the note from you and examines it. "I don't think we'll be able to get there until tomorrow. There's still so much to be done here."

The tip of your cold nose finds warmth against Rhysand's neck. He puffs out a laugh from the contact and wraps his arm around you to offer you extra heat. "I'll have someone take over our own missive to let them know." Your fingers toy with the deep dip of Rhysand's collarbone. His eyes flicker as he uses his to reach out to someone through his daemati skill to have them pass it along to his mother and sister.

He's practically purring at your merest touch, his needy hands softly groping you.

You giggle and shake your hand. "Rhys. You said so yourself. We're quite busy." You were never one to deny your brother anything, but there were more important tasks to attend to than letting him rail you in his tent.

Dramatically, Rhysand throws his head back and sighs; hands reluctantly release you but not before he gave your ass a little smack. "As always you're right. Do you know how annoying that is?"

Chuckling you hold your hand out to him. "Come on. I want to finish up so we can see mom and Izzy bright and early."

The following morning you make your sleepy way to the river to refill your canteen.

Bobbing in the gentle waters were odd boxes.

Quizzically, you flick your hand to send your magic to fish them out. Once placed in front of your feet, you kneel to the ground and examine it. Doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary. But it's presence here in the mountains made you grab a knife to flip open one of the lids with the blade. Cautious.

Large, void amethyst eyes stare up at you.

The horrific sound of your screaming shattered the once quiet mountain. Earth shaking under you as you hold up Isolde's severed head, both hands clutching at her cold and stiff cheeks.

You just couldn't stop wailing.

Couldn't bring yourself to open the other box.

Even when tears cloud your vision, you can still make out the blurry features that had once been flush with life and love. Your screams were of utter pain, pure and guttural that were ripped so viciously from you.

You didn't notice the others crowding around you.

Didn't recognize your brother's hands or Azriel's scarred ones that hurriedly fly over your eyes. Someone removes Isolde's head from your grip.

You understand your body was moving. That someone was trying to quiet you with soft, tender words. Anything that would beckon you from your hysteria.

"We need to do something!" Cass' voice is so far away.

There's more screaming but you don't know if the voice voice still belonged to you. Didn't have the chance to find out before you black out.

Even when you come to, you're still in shock; unable to comprehend the savagery.

You'd been out for only a short amount of time but it was enough for you to have been moved to a bed. Did Rhys winnow you to the cabin?

The last person you were expecting to be in the room with you was the furious High Lord, your father, Rhain. When he registers that your eyes are open, awake, his stride is fast and soon he grabs the front of your shirt despite shouting coming from the healers.

"YOU."

Your lips dumbly part, words fail you as you attempt to weakly lift your arms to push him off of you.

But Lord Rhain gives you a good shake that rattles your brain in your skull. "You should have been with them." He kept shaking you. His words were hard to decipher as his speech became more growling than vocabulary.

"Let go of her!"

"She should be dead too!" You'd never seen such an expression on anyone's face. Not when you were killing others in the war. Rhain's features were twisted between the features of fae and monster.

Cassian and Azriel struggle to hold back the Night Court's High Lord. Especially in the state that he was in right now.

Rhysand trusts the two at his back to handle Rhain while he tends to you. "It's okay- Did he hurt you? Look at me, please."

Your eyes rapidly flutter, no dam was strong enough to stop the large tears that build over your eyelashes and drip down your cheeks. "I- What happened was real then. . ." You can't look at him. His eyes painfully remind you. . .

A sob is caught in your throat as your chest heaves. You turn your face to the side.

"The Spring Court did it." Rhysand hisses and grips your hands tightly in his. His warmth felt painful, like they would leave blisters to your ice cold hands. He repeats your name when your gaze wanders to Rhain still putting up a fight against the burly arms of your adoptive brothers. "Please look at me. My love, my heart, please look at me."

Lips quivering, you shake your head. "I can't. I can't. Your eyes-" You gulp down air as grief reaches high up into you and squeezes your heart. "Isolde- Isolde-"

"That's right! If you had been with them-" Your father's words were cut off by Rhysand's commandeering voice.

"Get him out of here!"

The bobbing heads of others gather at the door to assist the general and spy master.

Could. . . could you have prevented their deaths?

"Don't listen to him." Rhysand immediately reads that echoing voice. "None of this is your fault."

You'd just wanted so desperately to remain by Rhysand's side. Being away from him, well, you'd never accomplished being away from him except for when he went through the Blood Rite. You hadn't slept the entire time he and the others were fighting for their lives.

W-was this retribution for your abnormal relationship with your brother?

A ragged sob has you curling into yourself.

There was truth to Rhain's words.

"(y/n)." Rhys near pleading in tone. Through the telepathic bonds mates were graced with, you hear his actual begging.

Please look at me.

Don't believe our father.

(y/n).

Please.

I love you.

All Rhysand saw rolling in your mind was the image of Isolde's head in your trembling hands.

[chwippy]

Part-timer Miles X GN!reader

LOL HI first post, first fanfic I’ll ever post :3 haha i hate this!! (i wrote this at 3-5am.)

Completely not related to itsv, atsv! Just wanted a silly one-shot of Miles working in a record store while being completely awkward with READER!!! YESS!! This can be taken as both platonic AND romantic, whatever you want <3

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Miles forgetting to bring an umbrella, resulted in being drenched in rain. Reader not knowing it’d rain, resulted in being drenched in rain.

Now you’re both soaked inside a record store alone, being awkward(?) teenagers who both have wet hair.

And miles works part time

Gender Neutral reader !

Warning lollls(not rlly): Misspellings, grammar mistakes💔

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Your unplanned plan to go to the record store had been.. Slightly ruined as it had started raining. Your clothes, hair, socks.. everything had been drenched in rain by the time you finally spotted the store.

You hurriedly ran there, not caring about possibly slipping or how there was an obvious place that had provided enough shelter to stay in for a while.

No, you decided against waiting for the rain to stop. You decided to go ahead and check out the new things they had brought in.

Miles stood at the middle of the store, humming quietly as he dried himself. He put the towel down to his neck as he looked at his once dried clothes before sighing.

He thought about how his mother had reminded him about bringing an umbrella, reassuring her he would but ended up rushing over to the store with no umbrella and obviously drenched clothes.

He flinched, screaming a bit as a sudden thud from the entrance caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked behind him, looking over to the entrance as he noticed you.

The raindrops had increased in volume as the rain got heavier. You stood there blankly, not saying a word which Miles copied, not saying a word while you both stared at each other.

Miles broke the eye contest as he looked down to notice rain pouring in before he finally spoke up, “You coming in?”

You stood there for a few more seconds before you register what he said, closing the door behind you as you gave him a thumbs up.

You chuckled awkwardly, “Uh yeah, sorry about that,” you apologised, smiling apologetically as you shrugged, walking a bit forward to get away from the door.

You eyed the pink with white dots towel he had resting over his neck before shrugging it off. Thinking nothing about it starting from the moment you shrugged it off!

Miles nodded, looking at your clothes that clearly have been drenched from the rain. He thought to himself, not wanting to keep hopefully a customer soaked.

He cleared his throat before he replied, “Ahh.. it’s alright, uhm..” He stood even more awkwardly, not knowing what to say in a situation that didn’t even have to be this awkward.

He continued his sentence, “so.. what brings you in here for today? Besides the rain, of course,” he asked, laughing a bit at his last comment before he slowly fell silent and turned fully to face the you.

You nodded, “Just browsing,” you replied, hesitating to walk over to him to check out the records because as we recall.. you’re wet. But still, you’re already here so why not just go? And so you did, not touching anything but you still looked around as he watched you.

The two of you stood there, moving every one or two minutes as both of you almost circled the whole store. The rain and footsteps being the only thing you both hear the whole time you’ve been there.

Miles sighed, still thinking about how he didn’t want to keep a customer, you soaked. But he wasn’t sure if they kept another towel as he’d only seen anyone who had worked there only use one, which was the exact same one that covered his neck.

He bit his lip, not wanting to keep them unattended while also wanting to search for another towel that hadn’t been suffered by him scrubbing his whole body the time he reached the store.

He snapped his finger which caused you to flinch as you looked at him, raising your eyebrow before he spoke up, “Uhh.. I gotta go check something out, you stay here,” He smiled, giving you a thumbs up before you nodded.

He took your nod as a sign to go ahead and search for that towel before he slowly went away. And you were left there, looking around the whole store while you held back from touching anything.

“This sucks,” You muttered as you leaned away from the records, just standing there awkwardly. Forgetting to bring your trusty phone so you just checked the items on the counter out before you sighed loudly.

The dude that just disappeared so suddenly made you wonder what he was checking out while you rested your head on the counter. Tapping the ground with your foot, just badly wanting to dry off, go home and listen to the records you’ve previously bought from this exact store.

But yet here you are, listening to the raindrops while it continued to pour nonstop.

In the other hand, Miles struggled finding another towel, searching everywhere yet never finding anything. But he did find a couple of paper rolls he hadn’t seen before so he decided to take it.

You listened to the footsteps, shooting your head back up. Realising the guy had come back, waiting patiently for him as you stood quietly.

He walked through the back door, holding 4.. 5? Paper rolls as he put them on the counter, sneezing a bit under his sleeve.

“I found these so you can like dry off,” he said, rubbing the back of neck as he looked over to you while you glanced over to the rolls.

You smiled, taking one of them before you started wiping yourself. Your hands being the main focus. Slowly you finally finished from wiping your arms mainly. You looked for a trash bin, meaning to throw all the tissues you had used aside from the ones you stuck on your hair.

Catching Miles’ attention, he pointed out the location of the trash bin, “The trash can is here,” He said, pointing over to the side of the counter as you nodded.

After throwing all the tissues away, thanking the boy for the tissues you went back to the records. Checking them all out as you can finally had the satisfaction of holding them.

You softly touched every single one of them, treating them with more than enough care as you observed them. And well, Miles observed you, watching your movements before he had realised how bad of a job he is doing and how creepy watching you is.

Miles walked towards you, looking over at the record you had in hand, “Do you need any assistance?” He asked, smiling lightly.

You flinched slightly, looking over your shoulder to face the boy.

You shook your head, “Nah, not really,” You replied almost instantly as you put the record down. He nodded in response, just standing beside you while you looked at another one.

The silence remained, the two of you had nothing to talk about while the rain still poured outside.

Miles thought to himself, walking over to the counter as he took a piece of the paper roll before he dried his hands completely. He started playing some music, filling the silence between you guys.

You watched him as he does that, not noticing the stare you had before he finally looked over to you. He blushed slightly before he gave you a cheeky smile, you returned the smile unawarely before you focused back to the record you held.

Miles cleared his throat, coughing a few times before he spoke, “So uh, mind telling me with your name is?..” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you faced him.

“It’s Y/N, how about you?..” you replied, asking him a question back.

And he smiled, “It’s miles,”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical about his name being, “Miles..?”

“Miles!” He said, grinning while you nodded in response. Resting your head back on the counter as he hummed with the music.

It wasn’t as awkward as it was a few minutes ago, the music surely had lightened the atmosphere just a bit.

It slowly turned to the two of you minding your own business. Him sitting on a chair behind the counter while you stood there, resting your head on the countertop. Both of you waiting for the rain to stop while no one surprisingly entered, just the two of you simply waiting, listening to instrumentals played.

[shadfanfic]

Daddy! Sebastian stan x little,shy! Reader (named “Shad”)

Request: Anonymous asked:

Hi!!! So I never requested before, but I saw you were taking requests! I was wondering if you can do a Sebastian Stan x reader, dd/lg? Also, have the reader being hurt by someone/something else and fluff at end? ☺️

hey thank you so much for ur request,Don’t forget to give me ur opinion 🤍 

warnings: reader got bullied, ddlg theme story, didn’t edit it so sorry if there’s a mistake 🤍

——————

“ please?”

You begged your daddy for the 10th time this minute and he just shock his head no 

“Doll, you know you can’t skip school” Sebastian said handing you a sandwich 

“i know i know.. it’s just-.. I’m in a little space”You finally confessed the true reason why you wanted to skip school 

“I know but you can handle it, i know my baby well be fine” He giggled and removed your hair from your face so you can start eating 

“tsk-.. no I can’t”You tsked and sigh start eating getting upset 

“hey, miss grumpy face you want chocolate milk with lunch box or strawberry milk”Sebastian asked leaning so close to your face hiding his smile

“I’m not miss grumpy face”You said and he giggle 

“No you are, you look like that!” He said and start mocking your grumpy face 

Both of you start giggling, you giggled at how funny he looked and he giggled with you cause you were too adorable in his eyes

“You can take your tiny stuffie” He said and smiled when your eyes lit up with happiness 

“Look i well hang it with your lunch box bag okay?” He told you and you immediately nod

——————

“Why you talking so quietly? The teacher asked you so answer !” That teacher pet you found in every single class decided to talk making everyone giggle

“Hey! hey! everyone be quiet!” The teacher yelled and looked at you

“Shad, you okay?”The teacher asked and you just nod 

“Ugh, I swear to god she’s acting like baby sometimes, all what she want is her stuffies” The girl whisper to her friends making them giggle

“ may i go to the bathroom please? ”You started talking really quietly and the teacher nod and smiled gently at you

The moment you stand up everyone gasped and start giggling, you looked at them confused and you looked back too your chair finding a small blood stain in your chair, you glup and start running away trying to find the perfect place too finally cry 

You entered the bathroom to do what you had to do,  now you understood why you were in a little space.. you sat down and start looking for Sebastian name 

“hello?” Sebastian answered the phone and as soon as you heard his voice you couldn’t control your own tears, you wanted to answer so bad but nothing came out beside 

“D-..daddy”You sobbed and start rubbing your red eyes 

“Sweetie!? Hey hey what’s wrong”Sebastian asked and it was clear in his voice that he was walking so fast 

“I-..i w-wanna g-go home”You rubbed your eyes harder trying so hard to control your sobs

— 

—

 15 minutes later you were standing in front of the school while the principal is behind you waiting with you not wanting to leave you alone since your so upset, you heard your daddy’s car and immediately look up 

“Hey!”Sebastian said with a sad smile and got out of the car and hug you so tightly 

“so mr. Stan ur-..”The principal wanted to talk but Sebastian shook his no and walk to the door while warping his arms around you

“I don’t have time sorry, email me tho!”He faked a smile and help you get in the car 

-

After a quiet few minutes the only thing was heard is you sobbing and Sebastian hushing you gently 

“Easy doll, you gonna have a headache And you hate them no?”Sebastian talked quietly 

“i told you -.. *sob* i-.. didn’t w-wanna go” You talked and start crying more and much louder 

Sebastian sigh and stopped the car at a public barking lot , he got out of the car and open you door 

“Hey hey shh okay I’m here now and I’m sorry I shouldn’t let u go okay? Now tell me what happened?”

He hugged you Immediately and start talking playing with your hair hopping it might calm you down

“I-..I’m bleeding” You sobbed and hold his shirt tight, you were in a little space now

“You got your period?”He cupped your face and you just nod 

“oh baby you got it so early this month I’m so sorry”He hugged you again 

“I hate s-school daddy.. i don’t wanna go anymore i-.. i just want to stay w-with y-you”you said with really broken voice

“I know, i know no more school baby no more I promise” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your soft cheeks “no more crying baby please”He smiled gently and kisses your forehead then your both cheeks then your nose making you relax, after that he hugged you again 

-

Both of you stayed in that position until you stopped crying, you felt Sebastian hand going down from your back to your ribs and side which made you squirm and smile a bit 

“Don’t-“You tried to squirm away and he let you 

“okay okay i just wanted to see ur adorable smile”He smiled and stepped back a bit rubbing your shoulder looking at your beautiful smile

“How about we go home and watch your favourite movie and eat your favourite snacks?”He said and lean into the car door looking at you and you nod 

“o-okay”You said and blushes, he was maybe too hot today and your shy about it 

“o-okay let’s go then”He giggle and mocked you, he kissed your lip super fast and close your door 

—

You maybe had a rough morning but you indeed forgot about it since your daddy is here 

[hidden-misthios]

Something in the Orange (part 3)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 427

Summary: When Geralt of Rivia disappears, Jaskier has no choice but to ask his best friend for help. Although struggling with her own issues, Y/N agrees and they join Vesemir and the others in Kaer Morhen. The search might be difficult but not as difficult as the certain redheaded witcher who keeps challenging her.

A/n: I’m sorry for the long wait AGAIN but the last two months were wild. Enjoy! 

Part 1 Part 2

After a couple of failed attempts, impatient mumbles from Ciri and words of encouragement from Jaskier, Y/N did it. The portal was right there in front of them. She felt dizzy and could feel her energy draining incredibly fast but she was awfully proud of herself. Making portals was always risky but this one seemed completely stable. The only problem is going to be keeping it open until everyone crosses.

“Go!” Y/N yells but no one looks like they are ready to go first.

Lambert, who was standing closest to the portal, moves a step back.

“I’m not going to be able to do this whole day. Go.” Y/N looks at him, keeping her arms steady in front of her.

“Why me? So you can close it as soon as I cross over?” he crosses arms. Y/N rolls her eyes and turns around to her best friend.

“Jaskier. Please.” she looks at him with hope in her eyes. Jaskier hesitates for a bit, but slowly nods.

As soon as he moves a step forward, Lambert scoffs and slightly shakes his head.

Jaskier doesn’t say anything but steps forward again.

“Fine, I’ll go first. Save your precious troubadour ass from potential downfall.” he says and steps forward, standing in Jaskier’s way. Jaskier slightly frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything, as if he’s trying to read his mind.

“Go!” Y/N repeats before both men could say anything else.

Lambert glances at her then steps in front of the portal. The portal makes a loud sound but nothing happens as Lambert’s hand slowly touches the dimmed veil. He hesitates for a second before finally stepping inside.

Y/N is holding her breath.

There’s no response from the portal when Lambert fully disappears. Portal is still stable. Y/N feels her heart beating like she just ran a marathon.

He crossed safely. He’s fine.

“Next!” she says, her voice shaky.

Jaskier, who was already on his way when Lambert stopped him, moves forward again.

His fits are nervously clenched but he looks determined.

Once he’s gone, the rest of the group looks a bit more certain now. Portal is still stable, but Y/N feels the energy shifting slightly. Ciri moves closer as soon as Jaskier is through.

“We will have to speed things up a bit.” Y/N tells Vesemir when Ciri crosses over without a word.

She could feel the portal taking more and more energy from her. Y/N wasn’t sure was Ciri’s magic somehow to be blamed for that but she didn’t want to question it any longer.

Vesemir nods and moves forwards immediately. He knew what this meant. Portal was going to be unstable soon.

As Vesemir passes through, Y/N feels something warm on her lips. Her nose was already bleeding.

Shit.

She still had Coen and herself to go through. Portal could go unstable any minute now.

“Coen, wait!” she calls for him. The witcher halts and turns to her. “We need to go together!” she tells him, with hint of panic in her voice.

Coen is visibly confused but nods in silence. He joins her and slowly they start to approach the portal. Y/N’s arms are slightly shaking at this point and her vision is getting blurry.

Come on, you can do this.

As they are about to enter, portal suddenly shatters.

“Jump!” Y/N screams, flinging herself towards. The white light surrounds her and forces her to close her eyes.

The pressure inside her own mind is insane. It lasts only for couple of seconds and then suddenly Y/N feels the ground beneath her and the heaviness is gone. She dares to open her eyes, fully prepared for the worst.

But there she is, standing in front of small rescue group.

Relief hits her and she falls down on her knees. All of her energy was gone. It’s going to take days before she’s fully healed. The energy drained from her by the portal was equivalent to an entire month's worth of effort for an oneiromancer’s work.

Jaskier runs towards her, grabbing her around the shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” brushing the blood off her lips. Jaskier immediately offers her a handkerchief and Y/N takes it.

“Where is Coen?” Lambert asks. Y/N looks at him and then around herself. He wasn’t there. Her heart sinks.

“Where is he?!” Lambert asks, this time, much louder. Y/N manages to stand up with Jaskier’s help.

“He didn’t-”

Lambert is standing in front of her, lifting his arms and aiming for Y/N’s shoulders. Or neck. Y/N couldn’t be too sure.

Whatever his goal was, Lambert was stopped by Vesemir, who suddenly appeared by his right side.

“That’s enough, let her explain.” Vesemir gives him a warning look. “Y/N.” he looks at her now.

“Coen should be just fine. He didn’t jump on time so the portal closed in front of him.” Y/N says, finally leaning on her own feet without Jaskier’s help. Her friend still stood near, monitoring her every movement. “He is unharmed. Probably just upset he didn’t cross over.” she adds.

“If he’s not-”

“Oh, won’t you give me a break! I just held the portal open for 5 people. He is alive and well!” Y/N snaps at redheaded witcher. Lambert’s brows furrowed but he didn’t say anything this time. He turns his back on her in utter silence.

“Now…where are we?” Jaskier quietly asks, looking around. Everyone else does the same. Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on. The eerie woodland lay shrouded in an ethereal mist, its gnarled trees stretching their skeletal branches toward an ominous sky. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and moss. Jaskier, who was still standing next to Y/N, slightly trembles when a distant howl fills their ears.

“Maybe it’s just me, but this doesn’t look like Hengfors.” Ciri mumbles. Y/N feels the wave of shame overwhelm her. She really believed she was powerful enough to do this right.

It was still an early morning but the dense, dark clouds hindered the sunlight from piercing through. With each passing moment, the mist enveloping them grew denser and heavier.

“No, but we have to find our way there.” Vesemir adds calmly. Y/N slowly makes a step forward and approaches him.

“I’m sorry-” Y/N says. Vesemir’s yellow eyes stared at her with a piercing gaze. “Do not apologize, Y/N. You helped us.”

“We don’t even know where we are.” Y/N says feeling the slight dizziness overcome her again.

“We will get to the closest town. We should head west.” he says, this time to the whole group, which meant their discussion was over.

Vesemir took the lead and Ciri followed, tightly gripping the hilt of her silver sword.

Y/N nervously swallowed. Despite taking a deep breath, the dizziness persisted. She wouldn’t dare to stop the group for her own troubles. She had to walk.

Jaskier, who remained by her side, regarded her with a gaze filled with concern. Y/N felt even worse. She didn’t want anyone’s pity for her own failure.

“I’m fine. We should go.” she tells him.

“Can you walk?” he asks, obviously not convinced. Y/N nods and takes a few steps forward. The bard lets out a sigh, refraining from uttering a word, and began trailing behind Ciri.

Y/N's attention was drawn to Lambert's figure, catching a glimpse of him behind her with the corner of her eye. She didn’t like him walking behind her but had no energy or desire to fight him again.

The group walked in a tranquil silence, enveloped by the ambient sounds of nature that surrounded them. Even Jaskier remained quiet, occupied with his own thoughts and worries about their current location.

But no one blamed Y/N. Not even the red headed witcher at the end of the line.

Y/N fixated on her own steps, each one proving more difficult than the last. All she wanted now was to lay down and sleep for days.

***

After a few hours of (mostly) silent walking, the landscape around them began to change - woodland was replaced by eerie swamp. Y/N took a deep breath. The air became infused with a pungent aroma, carrying the unmistakable scent of decaying vegetation and stagnant water that defined the wetland.

Muscles in Y/N’s legs were screaming. Her whole body did. She had reached the point where she truly didn't know how much longer she could continue walking. When she finally raised her gaze from the ground, which had captivated her attention for the past half hour, she came to the realization that she had fallen behind. Jaskier now walked at least 10 meters ahead of her, leaving her with the undeniable awareness that her pace had slowed down.

“We have to pick up the pace. We don't want to be trapped in a swamp when it gets dark.” Vesemir shouted from upfront. Lambert, who was still walking behind Y/N quietly, didn’t say anything, but Y/N heard his steps getting closer to her now. When he finally bypassed her, Y/N felt helpless. Her own feet were betraying her. She struggled to focus on each step, but her vision was blurring with every moment.

She abruptly stopped. At last, her body yielded to the unforgiving grasp of exhaustion, and her knees crumpled to the ground with a muffled thud. Y/N’s eyes already closed when she felt someone’s hands catch her around her waist.

As her consciousness slipped away, she was embraced by the sudden darkness.

***

She slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal the unfamiliar surroundings. Groggy and disoriented, Y/N took a deep breath, feeling her body gradually come back to life.

“Y/N!” she heard a familiar voice next to her. She moves her head to the side. Jaskier lowered himself into a crouch beside her, immediately helping her to sit up. Y/N looks around.

By the sound surrounding them, she was sure they were still in the wetlands. A disappointed sigh escaped her lips.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jaskier asks her, monitoring her face as if she was about to faint again.

“I didn’t want us to stop walking.” she mutters, trying to get up on her unsteady feet. It was pitch darkness around them, the only light sources were small lanterns placed around their improvised campsite.

“Sit down! We won't be going anywhere until morning.” he scolds her.

“Jaskier, I’m fine. We can go.”

“That’s what you said the last time and then fainted into that revolting mud.” he retorted with a tinge of frustration in his voice.

Suddenly Y/N remembers the last moment before the world blackened in front of her eyes. She instinctively touches her waist, as if expecting to still feel the lingering touch of hands upon it.

“But you got me. I didn’t fell.” she says, unsure in her own words. Was it Jaskier?  Or was she imagining the whole thing?

“I-I didn’t.” Jaskier says reluctantly, his eyes suddenly looking away from her. Y/N frowns.

“Jaskier…”

“Fine! It was him!” he finally confessed, lowering his voice. Then his gaze shifted to Y/N’s left side. She slowly turns her head.

Lambert.

He rested against a fallen ash tree; arms crossed over his chest with his head slightly bowed down. He was asleep. Or at least looked like he was. Y/N wasn’t even sure if witchers ever properly slept.

“Him?” Y/N whispers but there was panic in her voice.

“Yes, him.” Jaskier says impatiently, still looking at the redheaded witcher. “He carried you for an hour without a word. When I insisted that I should be the one to carry you, he told me to get lost. Can you imagine!” he says, not even bothering to hide his reluctance.

Just as Y/N was about to voice her complaint, the witcher's sudden movement startle them both, causing them to jerk back in surprise.

“In fact, I believe my exact words were ‘sod off’.” Lambert mutters to Jaskier, but his gaze is pierced on Y/N. Y/N’s mouth open but she’s speechless.

Why on earth would he carry me?

Jaskier stood up. With an indignant huff, he straightened his posture. "Well then, aren't you a delightful specimen of manners." he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lambert glances at him with a sardonic smirk, clearly amused. “Happy to be of service.”

“Alright, now that’s settled...” Y/N interveners, still feeling uncomfortable. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere near Creyden or Luton. Braa river is this way.” Lambert turns the point of his dagger to the north.” We won’t be sure until the morning.”

Y/N took a moment to realize where they are. “So…I didn’t mess up.”

“What do you mean ‘mess up?” Jaskier asks with confusion. Y/N finally manages to get up on her own feet. She located her leather bag just a few steps away from her. Thankfully, she carried a map with her!

“Hengfors,” she exclaims optimistically as she crouched down, “is just right behind us.” Y/N lowers the map on the somewhat of a flat stone. With a quick motion, she straightens the crumpled piece of paper. Jaskier and Lambert appear beside her, each holding a lantern to illuminate the map.

“If your assumptions are right, we should be right here.” she points to a blank part of the paper, surrounded by four cities – Blaviken, Luton, Jamurlak and Hengfors.

“Fuck.” Lambert quietly says, turning around. Y/N’s optimism suddenly vanishes.

“Isn’t that good? We know where we are.” she asks, standing up again. Lambert doesn’t look at her, but somewhere in the black void that was surrounding them.

“These roads are feeding grounds for kikimoras.” he mutters, as the flickering glow of the lantern bounced off the contours of his stern face.

“Of course they are.” Jaskier anxiously uttered his words, his throat tight with tension.

Y/N felt the chills down her spine. She never encountered any monsters. She had no idea how to fight. She didn’t need to do that in Novigrad anyway.

“I’m sure you have plenty of experience in fighting monsters with Geralt, bard.” Lambert mocks him, lowering the lantern on the ground.

“Actually I’m- “

“Don’t answer that.” Y/N interrupts him. “Where are Ciri and Vesemir?” she decides to change the subject.

“They are taking turns guarding the camp.” Lambert answers and settles down on the very same tree where Y/N first spotted him when she woke up. “My shift just ended so excuse me for a next hour or two.”

Y/N and Jaskier return to the spot where Y/N woke up and they sit down on her bedroll.

“You should sleep too, you know.” Y/N tells her friend. Jaskier shakes his head immediately. 

“Not a chance. I’ll watch over you.”

 “I just woke up. You should be the one sleeping.” she insists.

“I’m not-”

“You don’t own me anything, Jaskier.” she gently nudges his arm, smiling at her friend.

“I do. And least I can do is let you sleep.”

“You won’t be of any use to me tomorrow if you’re going to be tired.” Y/N continues. Jaskier lets out a sigh. Heavy-lidded and burdened with the weight of exhaustion, his eyes were veiled by a haze of fatigue.

“Fine. But only for a few minutes.” he says, leaning against the log behind him. “Promise you’ll wake me up.”

***

Y/N, of course, did not wake up the bard. She sat there, surrounded by the darkness of the eerie swamp and just watched. Her surroundings were mostly quiet – occasional hoots or croaking from shallow waters. The night seemed peaceful which calmed her nerves.

As the early light of dawn emerged on the horizon, Vesemir and Ciri made their way back to their camp. Despite their appearance of alertness, Y/N knew that the lack of rest was taking its toll on them.

“Someone’s finally awake.” Ciri says with a mocking tone, but the smile on her face was friendly.

“I’m sorry-”

"Pay no attention to her, Y/N," Vesemir softly adds, tossing a flask full of water towards the girl. Ciri catches it swiftly, gulping down half of it in an instant. Older witcher walks over to Y/N and gazes at the slumbering bard. Jaskier's mouth is slightly ajar, emitting gentle snores as he rests peacefully.

“Not quite a guardian, that one.”

“I told him to sleep.” Y/N explains and finally gets up on her feet. She felt safer now when they were all together again. Ciri joined Lambert, gently tapping him on the shoulders. Witcher instantly opened his eyes and looked at the group surrounding him.

It was time to move.

Few hours and lots of kilometres later, they finally saw signs of civilization. The sun had risen high in the sky, yet it offered little warmth. Vesemir and Ciri were leading the group, but even their firm steps started to slow down after a while. Jaskier was awfully quiet again, but Y/N knew better than to ask questions.

And behind her, there was Lambert again.

From time to time, Y/N swore she could feel his gaze but when she subtly turned around to check, he wasn’t looking. It was annoying and distracting, she realized, but there was nothing to say or do without starting another fight with stubborn man.

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the city of Luton. If such a place could even be called city, Y/N thought. At the core of the city lay a bustling and malodorous port, where the constant cries of seagulls filled the air, circling overhead as they mingled with the scent of the sea.

Vesemir suddenly stops and turns around to face the group.

“Alright. This is where we split up. Ciri-” he turns to the girl “Find us a supply shop. Herbs, oils, whatever you can think of.”

Ciri nods and leaves, not waiting for other instructions. Y/N is nervously looking around, not really sure if splitting up is good idea.

“Jaskier.” Vesemir turns to face the bard. Jaskier clears his throat and steps forward as he was waiting for his instructions. “Find us a quiet inn for tonight. Not too crowded nor too empty. Somewhere we won’t draw attention. Find me here in an hour.”

“Got it.” Jaskier nods quickly, looks around a few times and then leaves in the same direction where Ciri left just few seconds ago. Y/N knew it was her turn now.

Vesemir turns to her, with a soft look in his eyes. “Y/N. You’re going to snoop around. Look for the notice boards. Eavesdrop for the stories about our whereabouts. If someone is looking for us, we have less time than we thought.” he says, occasionally glancing around. Y/N suddenly straightens her back, as she feels chills going down her spine.

“Where should I meet you?” she asks quietly.

“We will find you after everything is prepared.” Vesemir says. Y/N quietly nods and decides to follow Ciri’s and Jaskier’s direction.

“Oh, and Y/N.” Vesemir adds before she has the chance to make another step forward. “Take Lambert with you.”

Both Y/N and Lambert groan.

“I can do this on my own, Vesemir.” Y/N says. Vesemir’s eyes suddenly darken.

“Can you? Could you defeat a drunkard who wants to fight you? Would you find a thief who steals your bag or money? “He asks her, his voice suddenly colder. Y/N suddenly feels ashamed and doesn’t know what to answer. She was a sorceress. If things got out of hand she could always rely on her magic. But she knew that would be the end of her. This wasn’t Novigrad – and magic wasn’t welcomed here.

“And you” suddenly he turns to Lambert. “Stay out of trouble. Keep an eye on Y/N. And don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

Lambert looks at Y/N and then back to Vesemir. “Got it.” he mutters and joins Y/N.

“What about-” Lambert was about to ask, but when he turned around again to face Vesemir, he was already out of sight. “Fast for an old man.” he mutters and faces Y/N. He looks at her for couple of seconds and sighs.

“What?” she asks, even more nervous now when he was completely focused on her.

“You’re not good at this, you know.” Lambert says and approaches her. Y/N freezes when his hands move towards her shoulders. He grabs the edges of her coat and pulls the hood over her head. Y/N frowns a little.

“Of course I’m not! I generally don’t waste my days hiding around foul-smelling cities or looking for kidnapped witchers.” she finally says, crossing arms on her chests.

“Well today is your lucky day, your highness.” he grins and pulls hood over his own head as well.

“Let’s go.”