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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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AU where we pretend acosf didn't happen - part 11

honey you got a big storm coming

Taglist: @sv0430 @nehemikkele @mis-lil-red @confusedfandomslut @emily-gsh @sunsetsofanemoia @a-court-of-valkyries @nestaspegasus @moodymelanist @swankii-art-teacher

Two males had called her a witch and one had spat inches from her boot as Nesta strode through Windhaven. Balthazar remained at her side, a cold disappointment towards his own kind leaking out of him. They both kept their heads locked into position staring ahead, unwilling to yield to the insults. She’d heard worse from family. People who were supposed to love her.

The front of the bakery had seen better days. The yellow paint was cracked and peeling, but the sunny colour itself was so at odds with the brutal training rings they’d stormed past. The familiar heat of anger had awoken in Nesta, made worse by the ringing clang of metal on metal as males fought for dominance. That noise jarred her senses, reminded her of that day facing Hybern’s armies.

Balthazar ushered her into the shop. Her eyes caught on the knife he had sheathed in a belt and hoped it wouldn’t be needed. When the door slammed due to the wind, it muffled the noise outside. Her body gave a thankful breath of relief, loosening the tension it had been building.

Many of the pastries were familiar as ones Rovena had made previously. Some, even Nesta could make without much assistance now. She would bring a few home for Rovena. And for Lule and Lorin. And herself. The thought of being curled back into bed, warm and safe, with a stack of lust-filled romance books and pile of cream filled pastries was enough to make her sigh with desire.

‘Guard duty?’ A hard female voice rang out from over the side of the counter. ‘You? For the high lady’s sister?’

Balthazar raked his gaze over Nesta, at her slender arms and delicate dress. The female's wings were clipped, a brutal scar ran down one side of her face, twisting her mouth into a grimace. He shrugged nonchalantly in return.

‘She’s my protector. Well-versed in witchcraft. If I give the word, she’ll curse you.’

The female blanched at that and took a few steps back from the counter. Nesta pointed out which pastries she wanted then the female went out the back for a small box, eyes still as wide as saucers. She raised an eyebrow to Balthazar.

‘Well-versed in witchcraft?’

‘Ask silly questions, they’ll get silly answers,’ he replied plainly.

Their boots trampled across the slushy grey snow of Windhaven in a hurry. When Nesta clamped her hands across her ears through the thickest rings of fighting, Balthazar said nothing, merely steered them towards a narrow street with a couple of shops.

Azriel’s money went down quickly. Nesta bought more books which she placed into Balthazar’s outstretched arms, spices she’d never heard of but smelt delicious, wooden toys for Lule and Lorin, the thickest pair of socks she’d ever seen, and a pair of new winter boots that were lined on the inside with dappled grey fur. Balthazar had perfected his perfectly bland expression when Nesta piled it on top of the stack of books.

‘What’s this one?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Another clothes shop.’

‘To make it fair, I ought to buy something in here too.’

‘Carry on and I’ll have to make two trips back home.’

‘It’s good exercise for your wings,’ she sniped, already hauling back the door to the shop.

A small bell chimed as they entered and a tall female with wings as long as Nesta came from a back room. Nesta’s view snagged on the horrific scars running through the main tendons, rendering her wings useless. They were jagged and thick; whoever had done them had not been gentle with the blade. She turned her body, hiding the wings as best she could from Nesta’s inquiring gaze.

‘Balthazar,’ she acknowledged.

‘Emerie,’ he said in return. ‘Nesta Archeron. Witch. King Slayer. Excessive spender.’

‘You’ll have to excuse my pack mule,’ she said, gently pushing Balthazar to one side. ‘He’s not been fed yet so he’s cranky. Nesta will do fine.’

Unceremoniously, the male dumped the newly bought items into a chair then stalked down an aisle, aiming for the training clothes. The box of pastries called to Nesta. ‘Can we eat these in here?’

Emerie’s brown eyes drifted to a tart pumped with blackberry jam. ‘Suit yourself.’

‘Want one?’

A smile flitted across the female’s slender face as she reached to the box.

It had never been this easy for Nesta to make acquaintances. Not when she was mortal and definitely not in Velaris. She’d sneered at the locals in their little town, believing they were too good for the ramshackle cabin they called a home, believing that one day their wealth would return and they could turn their noses up at all the peasants they’d lived beside. She regretted it now, regretted the aloofness that did nothing but drive a wedge between her family and the locals. In Velaris, she had no opportunities for friends. They were all the high lord’s friends – and Feyre was in denial if she thought their loyalties were equally shared between the pair.

‘How’s your cousin?’ Balthazar perched on a stool, icing sugar dusted his lips.

Emerie snorted and rolled her eyes. Nesta noticed how attention had frequently darted to the window, as if expecting a pair of wings to stroll by at any moment.

‘I broke Emerie’s cousin’s nose last time we sparred together.’

‘I wish you’d broken more than that,’ she replied, voice tight in a way that Nesta recognised. ‘I hope Bellius will take part in the Blood Rite soon so I won’t have to deal with him anymore.’

So she would be rid of him. The shop was well stocked. Exceedingly well stocked. And in the time they had been there not a single other had entered – not even to hide from the cold. She doubted Illyrians did things like that, admitted they felt such things as coldness.

Nesta thumbed through the rows of clothing. Scarves knitted in delicate lamb’s wool were so soft against her cold fingertips. She pulled out a grey one for herself. The gentleness reminded her of Elain. So she selected a dusty pink for her. And for Feyre… Feyre already had everything she wanted and that didn’t include Nesta. A plain periwinkle blue for her, out of courtesy for sending a gift to one sister. She supposed Solstice was approaching and it was her sister’s birthday after all.

‘I don’t need your charity,’ Emerie called, watching Nesta drape a dark green skirt and black stay over her arm.

‘No, but I need those shoes,’ she replied, bending down to inspect a pair of heeled boots. They weren’t her usual style at all, but before they were Made, Nesta always stood at eye-level with men. Here, she did not know what they fed the males for them to grow so large, but bolstering her own height was another weapon for her arsenal.

Emerie waved them off at the door when they’d finally departed. She invited Nesta to come back again soon so they could trade books. That simple act of reaching out to her, offering friendship, not expecting anything from her other than companionship brushed against all the scars in her heart. Nesta had always told herself she did not need friends; they had been her mother’s words repeated often enough she’d believed them. She would sit Nesta on the little cushioned stool in front of the vanity and brush her golden hair, telling her how beautiful she was, how men would fall to their knees for her. A queen has no need for friends, Nesta, they will only try to take what is yours. It sickened her that her mother had sculpted her for one purpose: to marry rich. She had no other expectations of her. Elain and Feyre were footnotes in her masterpiece that was Nesta Archeron. The notion of saying such things to Lule, for filling her head with poison that all she could ever be was a bride to a rich husband, it ruined a part of her. She had been a child. Why had her father not stopped their mother? Had he seen that Nesta received all of his wife’s attention so in a warped sense of fairness loved only Elain and Feyre instead?

‘The high lord is here.’

Nesta skidded to a sudden halt, smacking into Balthazar’s wings. Her throat dried up. Nesta raised her head across the rings of fighters and saw the tall, brooding figure, dressed immaculately in black. No sign of his own wings. No sign of the bat or Azriel or Feyre. Him. Only him. Watching the Illyrians fight until they were bloodied enough Devlon would call for a stop.

Her breathing hitched. A familiar feeling of dread descended upon Nesta. A fear, she knew that absence from him had only exacerbated.

The high lord turned his head, no sign of mirth on his features, only cold dominance, as he spoke to a male beside him. Dressed in a pewter jacket, tailored grey trousers and shoes far too elegant for Windhaven, a head nodded in response to whatever Rhysand had said. Next to his tan skin, the male was pale like moonlight. His dark red hair blew slightly as a wind caught upon it. Eris Vanserra. That viper was in Windhaven with him, part of the deal they had struck in the Hewn City.

‘I need to go. Take me home. Please.’

She had not realised how tightly she was gripping Balthazar’s arm. Her nails were likely cutting into his skin, but to his credit he had not yelped out in pain.

‘We have to pass them. It’s the only way through.’

‘I can’t.’

She was unravelling, unravelling already barely in his vicinity. The armour she’d worn for protection since they lost their wealth was choking her, pressing her ribs to an unbearable pain.

‘The witch has chosen a different bastard to fuck, I see,’ a male called to her.

‘The prince of bastards couldn’t satisfy you?’

‘I’ll give you something to satisfy you,’ a third said, grabbing his crotch.

‘Ignore them,’ Balthazar shrugged, allowing Nesta to keep her claws embedded into his muscled forearm as he steered them away.

A gasp sounded, a sword hit the floor. Rhysand’s magic was strangling the three males as they writhed in agony on the ground, mud soaking their exposed skin. He walked in no hurry towards their ring. Nesta wanted to scream at Balthazar to move, to get them home, away from Windhaven. She wasn’t ready for this interaction. Wasn’t ready to see him.

‘It seems your males need a reminder, Devlon, of how to speak to the sister of the high lady of the Night Court.’

How could Feyre love a male who revelled in the cruelty he showed here? There was no regret in his eyes when he did these things. Nesta had heard stories of the things he had done Under the Mountain, killing children from the Winter Court, torturing Clare Beddor to death believing she was Feyre, forcing Feyre to dance naked.

The males clawed at the ground, their wings thrashing as they clung to survival.

As easily as it begun, their suffering stopped. The three of them panted for air, fear coating every intake.

‘There will not be a next time.’

Rhysand was not warm. There was no kindness to his violet eyes. A darkness seeped from him as though the stars had been swallowed and all that was left was malice. Every step towards Nesta was a choice for her to crumble or strengthen. She chose the latter.

‘This is a surprise.’ He said, glancing over his shoulder to Eris who was watching the scene with keen interest. Rhysand took in every detail of the male next to her, the male who she still gripped onto, memorising all of him.

‘Balthazar is a friend.’ If he was darkness, she was a blade forged from iron in the depths of a flame. Nesta lifted her chin, determined to meet his eyes, daring him to challenge her.

‘I would like you attend Solstice. In Velaris. To stay for the night.’

‘And if I don’t?’

Rhys stared pointedly at Balthazar, but there was not a chance Nesta was letting go of him. He had his brown eyes cast to the floor, a slight tremble to his own body from being so close to his high lord. Risking everything for a female he’d met only the day earlier. Wrath stirred in her stomach. He had no quarrel with Balthazar, no reason to stare with such an intensity, knowing what it did to them.

‘It is your sister’s birthday. The sister you failed so spectacularly that she had to hunt for food as a child. The least you could do is give her the respect of attending. And being nice.’

‘What am I, if not nice Nesta Archeron?’ She ground out the words. He made her feel so small. As if she couldn’t do one good thing in her life. His protection of Feyre bordered on that of a territorial guard dog, willing to wage war for a perceived injustice. ‘Do you say these things to Elain or do only I have the pleasure?’

His eyes flickered to her hands. And she knew the bat had told him. Told him about her magic. Betrayed her the minute he'd landed back in that confounded city.

‘Elain is a good sister to Feyre.’

Elain had hidden in the bedroom with Nesta when the debtors had come for their father. Elain had helped spend the coin Feyre had earned. Elain did not move to feed them either. But they were sins that only Nesta had to bear.

His attention went to her eyes then her hands. Expecting something. A crowd had gathered watching the exchange between their high lord and his sister-in-law. The one he’d nearly killed three males for minutes earlier.

‘I will train your magic once a week and you will see your sisters. You have spent long enough self-destructing. Hiding.’

Nesta could feel the command in his words, the seeping of his magic round her, thicker than air as it sought to cow her into submission. She fought against it. Fought against the coldness that rubbed against her thorns. Her anger became something that had claws and teeth as it raked back against his magic. He might have been the most powerful high lord, but she had stolen from the Cauldron.

‘No.’

‘You will come to Velaris and-’

The high lord’s words were cut off. Nesta’s rage had simmered and simmered. Simmered for too long. A cataclysm in the form of silver flames had ruptured from her chest, launching Rhysand across the camp, the force of it so strong that it had shattered the fences he'd collided with.

He stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Eris too. All the males were staring at what she had unleashed upon their high lord. Eris winnowed away to safety.

Balthazar hauled her roughly with one arm to his chest and bolted into the air.

#au acosf #acosf #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #feyre archeron #rhysand #balthazar #windhaven

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sadsilktrader · 3 years

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Secret Admirer

I apologize for my extreme tardiness for posting to the Geraskier Holiday Exchange. This was written for @gotfanfiction

A modern Geraskier AU in which Jaskier is receiving gifts from an admirer.

...

"I'm telling you Yen, the man doesn't even know I exist. It can't be him," Jaskier paced the living room of his small apartment, small watering can in hand, completely forgotten. His plants looked on forlornly.

"Hm," she replied, he could hear the scritch-scratch of the emery board while she only half-listened to his prattling. "All I'm saying is that he was there at the pub the night you played and he lives in your building and he can hear you when you practice and those have all been the nights you've got gifts from your secret admirer."

"Half the building goes to that pub, it could be anyone! Plus, he doesn't even know I exist. " He flopped dramatically onto the couch, spilling water on himself. "Anyway, I'll let you go do whatever important business you have to do. You'll be here before my show on Saturday with Triss, right?"

"We'll be there. We just have to drop Ciri off at her dad's first. Now promise me you'll at least talk to him next time you see him."

"Maybe." He grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Fine, fine! I promise!"

"You better. I'm tired of listening to you wistfully sigh every time we speak."

"You're the worst."

"I love you too Jaskier, bye."

The phone clicked.

He'd met Yen online, a friend of a friend of a friend. They played DnD together, starting off as catty enemies and somehow developing into the deep friendship they had now. She was a good person, just a little rough around the edges. Well, very rough around the edges.

She'd settled down a lot over the last few years when motherhood had fallen into her lap though. He wasn’t certain about all the details, they were close but she was a private person. She shared custody of her adopted daughter, Ciri, with her ex. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting the man but he'd heard enough about him to form his own opinions. Heart in the right place but not exactly open about his feelings.

Sounded a lot like his own mysterious love. He sighed again, there was no way it was his gorgeous and stoic upstairs neighbor. The man was gorgeous and kind and lovely. He was tall and pale with silky white hair. Not to mention outrageously muscular. Jaskier had seen him in their apartment's gym working out on more than one occasion. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep himself from openly ogling him. He'd seen him feeding the feral cat that lived in the parking lot. Helping their elderly neighbors with their groceries. Playing with his daughter on the weekends. The man was too good to be true. Which was why he was absolutely positive he couldn't be the one leaving the gifts at his door.

The mystery man was perfect but he, Julian Alfred Pancratz, college drop out, jobless, barely squeezing by with the money he made by doing odd jobs in the apartment complex and occasionally performing at the neighborhood pub, was an absolute mess. There was no way someone like the man would give him more than a passing glance.

He sat up quickly leaving the forgotten, spilled watering can to the side to search for his notebook and pen. At least all the angst and longing seemed to also be a fantastic inspiration.

...

He chewed his lip, the leather-bound notebook balanced on his knee. He strummed a few chords on his guitar before setting it back carefully down to scribble something down.

The sun was fully set now and his balcony light had flicked on giving the small area an ethereal glow. He loved the process of writing and creating outside where he could feel the world around him. There was something about feeling the gentle breeze against him, the sun and moon shining down on him, and the fluttering hummingbirds that visited his feeder that just felt right.

He stretched and yawned and was contemplating packing up for the night when he heard it. A barely-there, soft knock at his door. Eyes gone wide he all but threw his things down and ran to the door to open it. No one. As always. There was however a small box tied in a ribbon and a note attached.

A voice so sweet deserves something sweet in return. -love, your admirer

He undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was an assortment of homemade chocolates. He popped one in his mouth and let it slowly melt over his tongue. Dark chocolate, caramel, sea salt. He couldn't help the sappy smile that plastered itself on his face and would stay there the rest of the night.

It had been a little over a month since the gifts started arriving. Most of the time they were baked goods or sweets of some kind but occasionally it was something different. A clutch of flowers, a silver bracelet with music notes engraved, once there was even a picture of a particularly beautiful sunrise left for him. He treasured them all.

He was a hopeless romantic down to the core of his being. He had never met his admirer but he was sure it would be love at first sight.

…

He was bone tired. He'd spent the day hauling furniture away to the thrift store and painting the walls of one of his elderly neighbors who was soon moving to a rest home. For all the work he was paid thirty dollars and a batch of very good snickerdoodle cookies. He knew it was all the woman could afford to give him and he was grateful for that. Not exactly enough to pay the rent but enough to buy a few groceries at least.

He stood in the deli section, weighing out the pros and cons of value pack meats when he saw him. The man, his white hair hanging loose around his shoulders, dark jeans, and a leather jacket. His breath hitched and his mouth went dry.

Gods how can anyone look that attractive just going to the grocery store.

The man looked up, catching him staring. His eyes the color of amber and honey. He felt like a deer in the headlights caught in his gaze. A few faint scars visible on his face and neck. He couldn't help but wonder if there were more on the rest of the man's body and felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

"It's leaking." The man said.

"What?"

"The honey ham your holding, it's leaking."

He stared at the gorgeous being before him for a moment longer before it clicked.

"Oh fuck," he dropped the squishy package on the ground, ham juices splashing on the both of them.

"Oh, gods I'm so sorry," he wasn't sure his face could get any redder.

"It's okay, really. I've had much worse things spilled on me before. You looked pretty lost in thought."

An employee glared at him with a mop and trash can. He smiled awkwardly, wishing he could just disappear.

"You're the musician, right? I live in the apartment above yours. I can hear you playing from my living room." The way the man said it had him wondering if that was a good thing or not.

"I'm Julian, well Jaskier to my friends and fans." He mustered up the courage he usually reserved for the stage and gave the man his best smile.

"Geralt. I'd shake your hand but," He nodded to his arms full of groceries. "You know when you go into the store thinking you only need one thing?"

"Well, you're in luck," he gestured to his cart, "I just so happen to have the best cart in the store. Not a squeaky wheel in sight."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely! The life of a musician leads to a very sparse diet. More than enough room for both of us. Plus we're headed to the same place."

Geralt had an amused smirk on his face that made Jaskier's heart skip a beat. Conversation between them came easy. Geralt was the quieter of the two but his dry wit and cheesy jokes had him laughing harder than he had in ages. Handsome and funny.

They made their way back to the apartment complex walking slower than was necessary, he noticed.

"So you have a daughter? I'm not stalking you or anything, I just noticed her around the complex sometimes."

"Ciri," he replied. "My ex and I share custody, its-" he sighed, running his hand through his hair, "it's a bit of a complicated situation actually. But they’re moving closer soon and that should help.”

The elevator stopped at his floor and he stepped off.

“So, I’ll be seeing you.” he mentally berated himself for not being able to come up with something more clever. The door was closing between them and he suddenly shot his hound out, stopping the door.

“Actually, and please forgive me if this is too forward, maybe I could give you my number and we could grab a coffee sometime? Or do our grocery shopping together again?”

Geralt chuckled before reaching into his pocket, tapping at the screen a few times, and passed it over. He added his number with the name Jaskier followed by a heart and music note emoji. The moment the elevator door closed he was dancing, groceries in hand, for his forwardness paying off for once.

…

It was colder tonight but he still played outside until his fingers were near numbing. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold. After his run-in with the man, he felt like he was walking on clouds. The world was at peace and he was the luckiest man in the world. He’d almost forgotten about his secret admirer completely until the same soft knock came from outside the door. Today was different though. Today he was brave and he had left a note for his admirer to find.

I beg of you to reveal yourself to me. I will be performing at the Royal Oak this Saturday. Please, wear this token so I may recognize you amongst the other patrons. Love, Jaskier

He strained his ears and purposely walked slowly to the door, giving his admirer time to leave the gift and find his note. He swore he heard mumbling of words. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening the door.

His note was gone and in place of it a container he opened to reveal a miniature-sized three-layered cake elaborately decorated with chocolate-covered strawberries. It was, as always, delicious to the point of sin.

He felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to string along his admirer, especially if things with Geralt turned out well. But he was getting ahead of himself. They had spoken once and here he was already planning their life together.

…

The next few days passed quickly. His wish of getting more work around the complex had come true but he was, unfortunately, unable to do any more practice for his upcoming performance. Every day he came back to his apartment with every intention of playing only to wake up from an unintentional five-hour nap on his couch.

To make matters worse, he hadn’t received a single text from Geralt, and since his sleep schedule was completely messed up he hadn’t caught a single glimpse of him since their last accidental meeting. He thought of swinging by his place to invite him to his show but decided against it. Maybe he needed some space? Maybe he had come off as too clingy? The doubts and second-guesses were mounting.

He arrived at the pub early to set up and get some practicing in before going on stage. Geralt wouldn’t be there but at least, he hoped, his soon-not-to-be secret admirer would be. Inside the note, he’d left a silver brooch of a songbird in flight. It was small but something he would instantly recognize. The glimmer of it from the stage lights would catch his attention. At least that’s what he was hoping. He felt more nervous about this performance than he had in a long while.

“You okay there Jaskier?” The voice came from behind him and he turned to see Triss, her curls down, beautifully framing her face.

“Oh thank the Gods,” he hugged her tight.

“Where’s your better half?” he asked looking around the growing pub’s crowd.

“Outside on the phone. It’s her ex, they don’t argue often but when they do,” she made a face. “Something about him needing her to watch their daughter.”

“Doesn’t he only see her on weekends? What an asshole.”

“Right?”

He felt more at ease with a friendly face by his side and felt even better when Yennifer joined them. He was smarter than to ask her about the phone call and instead chatted about everything and anything to get his mind off his nerves. Time went by more quickly now and soon it was time for him to play.

The second he stepped on stage his demeanor changed. Gone was any trace of nerves and doubt. The stage was his solace, the place he could bare his soul to the masses, or in this case to the forty-odd people crammed into the pub.

It was halfway through his third song when he remembered to keep an eye out for his admirer. He scanned the crowd hoping for the familiar glint to catch his eye but there was nothing. He chewed his lip.

The third song blended into his fourth and fifth. Still nothing. He took a break to grab a drink. He made small talk with Yennifer who raised a delicate brow at him.

"Alright, spill it. What's got you so distracted?"

He finished his drink and let his smile fall into a grimace.

"I left a note. For my admirer. I asked them to come tonight. I left them something to wear so I would recognize them and-"

"And they did show?" She finished for him.

"Nope. Wait how did you know?"

"First off you're terrible at hiding your emotions, and second I was fucking right and you owe me.”

“What?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess I’m partially to blame, I should have realized it earlier.”

“I- what?” he asked again.

“Jaskier. Darling. Sweetheart. I was right.” she said the words slowly as one would do to a small dog.

“Right about what?”

“Your admirer. It’s your neighbor. You never told me but let me guess. Pale, white hair, roguishly handsome, looks like he could snap you in half like a twig?”

“How do you?” He was feeling a little faint now like he was at the edge of realizing something terrible.

“Your neighbor, your admirer, and my ex are all the same person.”

His eyes went wide. It all made sense. All the clues were there but he had just been too dense to put them all together. He’d seen pictures of Yenifer’s daughter but he’d never spent more than a passing glance at Geralt's visiting daughter.

“Oh fuck.” he sat down, suddenly unsure of his legs beneath him.

“He called me right before I came in going on about needing to go out for a few hours and if it was alright with me if he left Ciri alone.” she chuckled. “I told him to not be an asshole and spend time with his daughter.”

Jaskier’s head perked up. Geralt had wanted to come. He hadn’t blown him off.

“I have to go. Fuck, I can’t leave in the middle of a set though.”

Yennifer waved him off, “I’ll sort things off here, you go to him.”

He kissed the top of her head and gave her a quick, tight hug. “You would tell me if this bothered you right? I mean, he’s your ex and all.”

“I think you two would do a very good job at evening each other out, now go!” She smacked him on the shoulder and off he went.

…

He ran home, or at least halfway home before running out of breath and proceeded to briskly walk the rest of the way. He was still trying to decide what to say when he found himself outside the door, sweating profusely and looking an absolute mess. He knocked on the door before he talked himself out of it.

“One minute!” A voice from beyond the door answered followed by the sound of an oven door closing and the chain sliding from the door’s lock.

The door opened. He looked beautiful, even like this, wearing an apron covered in flour cocoa powder. Especially like this maybe.

“I’m friends with Yennifer and she said it was you but I didn’t believe her and I didn’t realize that your daughter Ciri was also her daughter Cirilla which in retrospect should have clued me in but-” he took a deep breath in. Geralt looked nervous and his rambling wasn’t happening. He started over.

“You’re my secret admirer?”

The man blushed. “I am. Is that okay?”

“Very, very okay.” He smiled.

“Would you like to come in? I was just baking. For you.” his blush deepened and Jaskier heart felt like it would burst with affection.

“I’d like that very much.”

#geraskier holiday exchange #geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #this is so laaaate #modern au geraskier #secret admirer fic #sometimes I write

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years

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Unexpected News (OH, Elijah & Sienna & F!MC Friendship)

This fanfic was requested by my lovely friend @andi-the-cat for the challenging prompt “ Unexpected” of the @choicesnovemberchallenge hosted by @ramseyandrys .

Meant as a celebration of friendship between Elijah, Sienna and Meredith Valentine (OH F!MC), this fic sees the docs dealing with unexpected news that opens new possibilities...

Hope you enjoy it and don’t mind if the lovely queen of tease Kyra plays a role in it...

Disclaimer: hints at Harper Emery x F!MC (previous chapters here)

Prompt: Unexpected

Word Count: 1428

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @bhavf @melodyofgraves @abunchofbadchoices @silverhawkenzie @strangerofbraidwood @kamilahmykween @desiree-0816 @universallypizzataco @gayestchoices @embarrassingsmartphonegame

Harper Emery x F!MC Tag: @korrasamixfan @delphinusbae @noeschoices @jellymonster

________________________________________________________________ It was early in the morning when Meredith and Elijah got off the metro and headed towards Edenbrook Hospital, chatting.

"I hope Sienna's breakfast date is going well" Dr. Valentine said, smiling.

"Well, it should be almost over by now" Dr. Greene checked the watch at his wrist . "...unless she's gonna run late"

The two doctors shared a conspirational look and a huge smirk.

"Uh, a hot date seems like a worthy excuse to be late at work"

"Indeed" Elijah agreed, breaking into a giggle.

"But seriously, I'm happy for her, she looks happier now..."Meredith nodded."And she deserves better than that workaholic douchebag"

"Oh God, I don't even know what she saw in him in the first place! Most unpleasant guy I've ever met!" Dr. Greene shrugged.

"Unlike golden boy Danny"

"Exactly""I was losing hope about the chance of an actual date, to be honest..."

"You weren't the only one, M., trust me...but all's well that end well"

"Yeah..." a mischevious gleam brightened Meredith's face.

She leaned down and playfully bumped Elijah's arm.

"And now we can focus on setting you up with gorgeous neighbor Phoebe"

"W-what?" an instant blush spread all over the doctor's face.

Meredith raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do I have to produce myself in a Miss Congeniality poignant reference or will you concede that it's time you ask her out properly, Dr. Greene?"

"Stop playing Cupid, M.!" Elijah giggled, bumping her arm in return.

"But Comicon is coming like next week! What better chance than that since you're both into comics!" Meredith protested.

"Remind me why you even know about Comicon?" he chuckled.

"Well, Edenbrook's most amazing doctor, who also happens to be a good friend of mine, is a lovely nerd and so is his crush and I believe my wondrous friend deserves to be happy too. Just like our cute Sienna is now. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

The affectionate smile on Valentine's lips left Elijah momentarily speechless as the two slowed down to a stop. He was about to say "Thank you, M., same to you" when a familiar voice resounded not far from where they were standing.

"Well well well...I'll be damned if the best doctors in the whole universe aren't right here"

A young woman in a yellow coat and bright beanie smiled and waved at them. They greeted her at the unison and immediately walked in her direction.

"Kyra!"

"And they even remember my name: am I not the luckiest girl?" Kyra flashed them another dashing smile and pulled them into a tight swaying hug.

When she finally released the interns, Meredith was the first to talk.

"It's so good to see you, Kyra! But what are you doing here?" her expression quickly switched from cheer to concern. "Please tell us it's not another chemo session"

"Aren't you the sweetest, Dr. Valentine?" Kyra smiled and shooked her head. "No chemo session, I'm just here to meet my oncologist and discuss the latest test results. So keep your fingers crossed, even if I have a good feeling about this"

"Of course we will!" Meredith crossed her fingers in response.

"Even our toes, anything for our favorite former patient" Elijah echoed, miming Valentine's gesture and making Kyra giggle.

"Now, since we're all heading in the same direction, mind if I join you?" she added, wrapping her arm with Meredith's as they kept walking. "What were you docs saying, before nosy Kyra interrupted you?" she asked, turning her head to the side to address Dr. Greene.

"Oh nothing much, M. was just playing matchmaker" he explained, laughing.

"Was she?" Kyra sounded genuinely amused. "I'm proud of you, Valentine"

"Hey! I'm right here" Elijah protested but Kyra didn't seem to listen.

"Who's the lucky one?" she asked Valentine."A lovely and beautiful neighbor who has a crush on the boy here"

"I-"

"Excellent! So you live close to each other and she's into you-" Kyra commented, pondering the intern's words.

“Well, I don't kn-"

"Why oh why haven't you asked her out then, Wonder Boy?" Kyra smiled conspiratorially at a flustered Dr. Greene.

As he struggled to find words and threatened to blush furiously again, stumbling over his own words, Kyra squeezed his arm reassuringly."I'm sorry, darling, but I'm with Valentine: I support the mission "ask her out". And in case you're wondering, Wonder Boy, there's no chance someone would turn down an invitation from such a sweet man like you. Unless this neighbor is completely out of her mind, but we'll put our faith in her. It's gonna be okay, Elijah, trust the girls here" she winked.

"Not fair teaming up" Elijah laughed but soon turned serious and offered a tiny shy smile. "But thanks Kyra...and M., I'll...I'll think about it"

A comfortable silence settled between the three of them as if to quietly support and encourage Elijah's newfound resolution. A brief silence was soon broken by Sienna running at full speed towards the little group as soon as they set foot inside the hospital.

"GUYS YOU CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!" she squealed, crashing the three of them in a bear hug, despite her height.

"Oh and hi, Kyra!" she added when she parted.

"Hi cutie!" Kyra cheered. "So what's the big news we cannot believe?"

Sienna gave an excited shriek before speaking.

"I'm glad you asked, sweetie! Apparently, Edenbrook will host a fundraising gala in a month or so and it's gonna be super fancy and ohmygod Avery Wilshere will exhibit for free and we interns are invited!"Three jaws dropped at the same time.

"Say that again" Kyra whispered.

"Fancy gala? At Edenbrook?" Elijah gaped.

"Avery Wilshere? Here?" Meredith gasped.

Sienna squealed again and clapped her hands.

"Yes yes yes! And the poster over there behind that crowd" she gestured to a bunch of people stationing and chatting on the other side of the hall. "says that we, interns and doctors are invited to attend the event and we can even bring a plus one! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??"

"Holy moly" Meredith blinked twice.

"I didn't see it coming, that's for sure...but WOW!" Elijah cheered after the initial bewilderment.

"I know right??" Sienna was clearly still on an adrenaline rush.

"Well, docs" Kyra announced, smiled. "You better get ready for a shopping spree with that me because judging from what you said and..well Edenbrook, it's gonna be super fancy!"

"Well, we don't know what Dr. Naveen has in min-" Dr. Valentine cautiously started but Sienna cut her short.

"Oh my god, there's gonna be champagne, canapes and classy music" she noted with starry eyes.

"You bet, that's why you need help from a professional. Well, almost" Kyra laughed.

"Omg omg, I gotta tell Danny! He might be my plus one, right? Cause we're invited"

"Of course he will be your plus one, honey! Just text him already" Kyra reassured her, before turning to Elijah.

"Wonder Boy, I'm pretty sure you know who to ask. Even if I wouldn't recommend it as a first date but you know" she gave him a wink.

Elijah mocked a salute.

"Yes, ma'am!"

A beep chimed from Sienna's phone.

"Done!" she sighed then looked back to Kyra. "But you should come too! It's gonna be so much fun"

"I'm no intern or doctor, honey, despite lingering here I've gathered certain expertise in the medical field" she joked.

"You could be my plus one" Meredith suggested and all eyes converged over her as if to say "elaborate".

"Well, I'm not seeing anyone and as Sienna said you should totally come with us" she shrugged.

"I thought you were asking that neonatal nurse that always greet you with bedroom eyes...like Jen or something like that?" Sienna commented.

"Who?" Meredith narrowed her brows visibly lost in the plot.

"You’re telling me you haven't noticed?" Sienna gaped.

"Forget the nurse with bedroom eyes" Kyra joined the conversation.

"So you're not gonna ask Beyonce?" she added, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"Wh-" Valentine started but then she remembered who Kyra kept nicknaming Beyonce and blushed furiously.

"Of course not! I-" she said, clearing her throat. "So, are you gonna be my plus one or not? I mean, if you're not with your boyfriend-"

"Oh he could wait for one night!" Kyra smiled a rather wicked smile. "And you bet I won't miss this gala! Congrats, Valentine, you got yourself a plus one".

Sienna gave another excited shriek and called for another group hug.

"I can't wait for the gala night, it's gonna be the best night ever, guys! Especially because you all will be there"

#choices november challenge #open heart #sienna trinh #elijah greene #oh f!mc #playchoices #choices fanfic

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scratchylittlepen-blog · 6 years

Text

Chapter 1

Everything about the school was beautiful.

The white marble hallways that let in too much light. The gardens the housed every type of flower you could find in Amour, yet its specialty was roses. The rolling green fields that turned into lush forests that then branched into large beaches. The art that graced the walls of the building. The rooms that made the students feel at home and comfortable the moment you walk in. Collie loved everything about it all too much.

She walked from the classroom with a sense of joy, but also something she had never felt before here. A chill of danger that rushed down her spine coldly.

The hallway was mobbed with students. As it was the end of the week, teenagers pushed past her to their rooms in hopes to be the first to leave for the weekend. After about an hour, the hallways would be mostly empty and the school would be an eerie quiet for two whole days.

Collie stops and steps out of the flood of people. She is standing on the outskirts of one of the school’s many outdoor courtyards. Inside, there are a few students still finishing up their protection classes. That was the thing about this school. It was a place only meant for certain people in Amour. The ones everyone else calls Barer’s.

These people possess abilities that will help them go on to be great warriors. Or at least that’s what Collie’s teachers told her in her early studies.

Another thing about this school. It was only meant for the elite - as the advertisements would call it - or the royals. Children who were the sons and daughters of kings and queens. Duke and duchesses. Knights and councilmen.

Collie was suddenly jostled to the side. She looks back at her perpetrators and glares at a group of boys about her age. They all laugh as they keep on walking.

“Hey!” Collie shouts at them. They all stop, then slowly turn with wide smirks. Some still giggling under their breath.

Collie ignores the snickers and storms towards them. “What is your damn problem?”

“Don’t think it's our fault, princess. Maybe you should just be checking yourself more. Or do you need to hire someone to do that for you too?”

“Don’t you call me princess!” She said through gritted teeth, her finger pointed up at them.

What he had said was true, well partially. She was the princess of Picora, the capital city of Amour. But she did not need someone to help her stand. She was just all too tired of these boys thinking she could get pushed around and not expect to get pushed back.

The boys faked panic. “What are you going to do? Hit us?” One of them in the front said. “Wouldn’t want to get those shoes scuffed up. But, then again, mommy and daddy can just buy princess twenty more pairs, can’t they.”

Collie didn’t understand what they were trying to achieve. As far as she knew, these boys shouldn’t have anything against her family. Everyone in the country adored her parents and her family. They treated Amour with nothing but kindness and respect. So why did these boys hate so much?

If almost like he was reading her mind, the boy in the front leaned down until his nose was just inches from hers. His curly brown hair fell into his eyes, and when he brushed it away, she could see his face was full of anger and disdain.

“Listen here and listen close because I’m only going to say it once. I am so damn tired of watching people like you get what you want, the moment you want. My father is a knight, for your kingdom, and doesn't get paid even close to what he’s worth. So while you are sitting back on your spoiled ass, my family is rotting in your dirt housing. Thank god I get to come here and give my family a real chance, or else we would be gone, and you would never have had any idea we ever existed.”

He straightens himself and looks down at Collie with a snarl. She stares at her shoes and watches his feet stride away with the rest of his group. She hears footsteps approach her from behind, but she can’t move. The boy’s words still echo in her mind.

Or else we would be gone, and you would never have had any idea we ever existed.

“Hey.”

Collie finally looks up and she is staring at a boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes. He smiles at first, but then looks concerned when he sees her face. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Sorry, Hem.” She then notice’s the tears in her eyes and quickly wipe them away. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He pulls on the strap of his book bag. “Do you want to get back to our rooms? I know Willow is there already.”

She nods and they start down the nearly empty hallway towards the dorms. Hem starts to talk about something from levitation class, and she nods along. They exit the school building and walk into one of the academy's very expansive gardens. A few students are still out and Collie stops to watch a couple on the other side of the rose bushes. The boy leans down and pulls up a pale pink rose for his partner. He uses his magic to make the rose rise in the air and dance between the couple. The rose lands in his girlfriend’s outstretched hand and she beams as the couple joins hands and walks towards the school.

“Uh, Collie?”

Collie turns and looks at Hem still behind her. She smiles and Hem rubs the back of his head. “We should probably go.”

“Oh, right.”

Collie almost glides over the pathways.

Somehow, the day seemed brighter than before.

...

It was raining.

Willow was sitting on her bed, her long, lavender hair tied up against her head. She was stitching up a rip in her pleated school skirt. “Wait, so why are you so upset?”

Collie was sitting on their all too wide window sill. The glass was cold from the storm, but she enjoyed watching the rain drip down the panes. She had spent the last half an hour telling Willow about her interaction with the boy in the school, but Willow didn't seem to get it.

“I told you,” Collie said more to the rain than her friend. “He told me people were rotting in my own kingdom and I was too high and mighty to even notice.”

“You can’t listen to the Coll,” Willow says. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

“She has a point.” Hem tells them. He is sitting on the floor, an open spellbook in front of him. He has been trying to conjure fire for the past hour.

“I guess,” Collie says quietly. “But I still need to do something. As a princess, I need to work more for my kingdom.”

There is a loud knock at the door, then another second later. Hem stands and opens the door. The rain was more audible now.

“Uh, Collie. I think it’s for you.” Hem says in a questioning voice.

Collie gets up from the window sill and walks over. Two boys are standing in the door frame. The first is quite tall and she has to look up to meet eye level with him - but Collie is considerably short - and has short and curly honey hair. The second is shorter than the first but still tall. His shoulder length blonde hair is drenched with water, and his tanned skin glows in the dim light of the room.

“What are you two doing here?” Collie asks.

“I thought you would be more happy to see your older brothers.” The shorter boy says. He gives a cocky smile and the taller boy elbows him lightly.

“Hello Atticus,” Hem says to the shorter boy.

“Hem.” Atticus gives Hem a short nod.

The taller boy watches the exchange with a stiff expression. His eyes danced around the room, his fists balled and tense. Willow stood up from her place on the bed.

“Well, look at this, the triplets are reunited once again. Collie, Atticus, and Quill. The Zink’s.”

Collie sighs. “There’s no need to make a big deal of this Willow. It’s not like we would never see each other again.”

Atticus smirks and raises his chin at Willow. “Hey.”

Willow frowns. “Atticus.”

“Okay, enough of this.” The tall boy - Quill - steps forward. “Collie, we came because our presence has been requested by the council. Immediately.”

…

Collie loved her home.

She loved the cobbled streets that are laden with moss. The colorful houses that shine in the new day sun. She loved how the shops served fruit and freshly baked pastries. And she loved how Picora had far too many flower boutiques, so the streets always had a perfumey aroma.

As the wagon pulled through the front gates of the city, they were welcomed with the sound of familiar music from the town square and the chatter of people at the local stores.

Quill and Atticus were at the front of the wagon leading the two white stallions up front, while Hem, Willow, and Collie sit at the back. Quill and Atticus didn’t want to draw attention by using one of the royal carriages so they came in one of the guards wagons. Yet, Collie thought it was a stupid idea since they were using royal horses.

They pulled up to the castle and Collie watched a stable boy run out of the castle doors and take the horses reins from Quill.

“Thank’s Emery,” Quill says to the stable boy and starts up the castle stairs.

Collie, Hem, and Willow climb out of the back of the wagon and follow behind Quill. Collie stops and turns. Atticus is with one of the massive stallions. The horse’s muzzle in his hands, his forehead pushed against the stallion’s. Atticus’s lips are moving slightly, but Collie knows her brother enough to know he is speaking Kudarion. The rarely spoken language of the Kudar Mountains.

That’s something to know about Atticus. All their lives, he has always been the one to be fluent in all the languages of Amour. He often curses in them too, as he knows no one knows what he is saying.

When he steps away from the horse, Collie darts back up the stairs. She didn’t want him to know she was watching.

The inside of the castle is expansive and bright. Wall length windows wall them in on either side of the entrance hall. Collie joins her friends as they look around the hall with wonder. Hem is certainly used to places like this, as he is the prince of the neighboring kingdom, New Stat. But Willow is no royalty, so this is all new to her. Quill is nowhere in sight.

The door creaks open and Atticus joins them. “Where’s Quill?”

Collie gives a small shrug, but their attention is drawn to the footsteps echoing at the other end of the room. Quill is walking towards them, flanked by the king and queen.

“Mom, Dad,” Collie says and rushes forward to hug her mother.

“Good afternoon King Westin,” Hem says and turns towards the queen. “Queen Bethany.”

“Good afternoon to you, Hemingway.” King Westin says with a smile.

“Why does the council need us?” Collie asks. Her mother reaches over and grabs her hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Hollow.” The king says. “It’s back.”

“What do you mean? Hollow has been back for months.” Atticus stands at the same height as his mother, while Quill is about his father height. Collie is, unfortunately, shorter than all of them.

“But this is different.” Queen Bethany says. Distress fills her voice. “It’s back. And it wants more. It wants the country. And this time, it won’t stop until it gets complete and total control.”

A lump has formed in Collie’s throat. Something tells her that this won’t end well. She was afraid of what the council had to say, and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to handle the duties given to her.

But something else burned deep in her chest. Something full of determination and strength, and she was prepared to work hard to make sure that flame flourished. No matter the outcome.

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