#Sera you should know better than to tell women to smile more

[sillyroundkatie]

Local evil cyborg woman smiling incident, 3 dead 12 injured

[midday0nightmares]

27 - pry on the weak (m).

Previous chapter in your arms (m).

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day. 

You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.

You jolt out of the claustrophobic nightmare, everything around you looks sound and in its right place, including jaemin, who’s sleeping next you, it was a nightmare.. you didn’t think that a nightmare would have the audacity to visit you while you were sleeping in his arms.

You snuggle closer to him, too close, not minding if he wakes up right now, it would be ideal if he can listen to you telling him about the rude nightmare and sho It away..  

.

.

.

He buckles under your pleads, 

“fine.. you can come too”  

The high pitched squeal you let out almost made him change his mind.

You wore a simple, body fitting black dress, a safe choice, you walked to the living room where jaemin was waiting for you, he was wearing a black suit, the black trousers making his long legs look extra inviting.

Jeno whistle from behind you when you spun to show jaemin your outfit, you roll your eyes at his ungentlemanly behavior, 

But the way jaemin’s eyes were shinning, and the compliment “you look beautiful” made your heart flutter, but the butterflies were shot dead when jeno’s hand landed on your ass in a sharp slap.

You link arms with jaemin and make the short trip to the door across the hallway to chenle apartment, the door was open, you were welcomed by upbeat classical music, not what you’ve expected.

Inside, the apartment looked like an entire house by itself, it was three times bigger than your apartment, the atmosphere was intimidating, everyone looked expensive and beautiful, there was three type of guests, men, gorgeous women, and you. 

Bite sized appetizers and trays of champion were being served along side an open bar at the corner, chandeliers were hanging off the ceiling and the big glass door opens to the terrace.

Your heart sunk and your stomach turned over inside of you. You cling to jaemin’s arm when you spot that face, haechan’s face.he approaches you and they all greeted each other, you keep looking else where, doing your best to ignore him. 

“Hey man! Long time no see.. what are you doing here? You know chenle?” Yes good question jaemin, what is he doing here?

“Yeah yeah..” He leans closer and lowers his voice “he’s one of my top clients” he gestures to the tens of girls around.. and it clicks in your head that they were all escorts, brought by haechan, they were his girls. you didn’t even try to hide the look of disgust that was showing on your face.

“Hey handsome” a tall, brunette, doll like girl throws her arms around jeno, “haven’t seen you in a while” she seamlessly pout. He giggles and turns into a harmless puppy in her hands, she must be one of haechan girls too, of course he will pay for company, who would want to spend time with him.

Your attention turns back to the hushed conversation between haechan and jaemin,

 “… no, his father is the of a one the leaders of the Chinese communist party, powerful man. and he’s the sole hire of multiple companies” haechan says.

“What is he doing here?” Jaemin asks. 

 “don’t know.. but based on what I have heard, he’s not staying for long..” haechan cuts himself as soon as he notice your interest in their conversation, “And how have you been doing sweet thing?”

oh the rage that went through you, you wished you could claw his eyes out, your distain is loud on your features. jaemin’s hand reach and hold yours, giving you a gentle squeeze, silently apologizing for breaking his promise of not having to see haechan again. 

And of course Hacehan is anything but dumb, he reads your mood and turns back to jaemin “come, I want you to meet someone” .. “haa you never stop working, don’t you?” Jaemin let go of your hand and slips deeper into the crowd, leaving you standing awkwardly next to jeno and his baby.

You stomp with no destination in mind. you look around, amazed by everything, but you feel misplaced, the looks that were thrown your way, you didn’t belong here and everyone knew it, there was an underlining screech the luxuries mood.

You catch the back of jaemin’s head through the crowd, an unsuspected punch of something was delivered to your heart, throwing your mood completely off. he’s with a group of giggly girls, practically drooling over them.  

you regret insisting on coming with him.. you should have known, but it’s too late now, you look else where and meet the sister eyes of haechan staring at you. he winks at you, you throw him the dirtiest look you have and move out of his sight line.

You pick a glass of champagne and lean against the wall, tipping the tall glass and drinking it in one go, and another.. starting to feel better. Chenle’s bright hair stands between the crowds, he gracefully moves around greeting everyone, you didn’t notice before but he’s quit charming.. he catches you staring at him and smile at you, rising his glass towards you, you fumble almost dropping your half empty glass.. when you mange to get a grip on yourself and rise your glass he had already return to his conversation. 

“Hello, mind if I join you?” The stranger man stands next to you even before you could’ve answered him, “what’s your name?” He looks like he was operating on twice the normal human energy, fidgeting and unable to stay still for more than three seconds, his smile twitches, the look in his eyes is frantic.. his pupils are blown, he’s on something. 

He speaks again before you can answer “hi Im yangyang, what’s your name?” why does his friends have wired names? 

You watch him like he was a train wreck happing in slow motion, “here try this” he hands you one of the two glass he was holding in his hands, a pink cocktail with raspberry, you smile politely and take the drink, he stares at you with his frozen smile.. but something behind you catches his attention, he kinda looks like a cat, just like that he leaves as fast as he came, he’s kinds cute.

You move to the open terrace for some fresh air, the breeze flowing through your hair, you zone out as you watch the city lights.. a hand graze the small of your back brings you back, you jump in surprise. “sorry didn’t mean to scare you” chenle apologize, placing a tall glass of champion in front of you, his round cheeks flushed, he looks breathtaking in this proximity, or maybe it’s just the alcohol in your system.. 

“To be honest sera, Im a little offended” he confess, your eyes grow double the size “offended.. why?”, 

he gives you sad puppy eyes and looks around “you don’t seems to enjoy my party”.. 

“oh no, I do. Your house is very beautiful and everything looks amazing” you try to convince him but he’s not buying it, you just give up and sigh, “im just tired” looking down to the busy streets..

He hums “tired or jealous?” Pointing at jeno who was too busy sucking that girl’s face, you roll your eyes and chenle laughs.

 “im not” you bring the glass to your lips, drinking more, a pathetic attempt to suppress whatever have been twisting your insides. 

Someone calls for him cutting your interaction short, “Alright.. well if you need anything come find me” he says before leaving you. You stay at your spot, distracting yourself with silly thoughts while the party behind you was growing wilder.

Your stomach growls, you feel sick and about to throw up.. heat rising through you, you sweat and feel lightheaded, you must have had too much to drink you are not used to it.

You stumble inside and through the crowded room, looking for the closest bathroom before it’s too late, haechan grabs your arm “sera.. are you ok?” His voice is far away although he’s standing next to you, you yanking your arm out of his hold “don’t touch me..”,

The room starts spinning, you hold the wall for support, after that it all went dark.

.

.

.

When you came back and opened your eyes, you were laid in a bed, the strong cologne filling your noise, upsetting your empty stomach. For a minute you don’t remember where you are or what had happened, the unfamiliar bedroom doesn’t ring any bills, your head is pounding, threatening to explode you move too much, you try to get up but a sharp pain shots through you, your hips feels like they were dislocated, your thighs bruised and had blood on them, your pulled up dress and torn underwear, it all indicates to one thing. 

You mange to hold yourself through the initial shock, not breaking down. With a plan to find jaemin you fix your dress to cover your exposed breast, you force yourself up, picking up your discarded heal off of the floor. You limb your way out of the room, the party has quite down, it has turned to something else.. 

everyone looked like a living zombie, you look for jaemin, you open every door on your way, you open a door to a bedroom, and you see group of men gathered over a passed out girl, watching them felt like an outside body experience, like you were rewatching yourself. They were unfazed by your presences as they continue their assult.. 

you close the door to the hellish scene, you keep looking for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

You reach the main area, being met by jeno and haechan snorting whit powder of the coffee table, surrounded by loopy girls.. jeno tries to grab you, to pull you down with them but you escape his claw like hand.

You can’t take this anymore, you were starting to crumble. you did’t feel safe anymore. you head to the door and walk out, you seek the comfort of a familiar surroundings, their apartment, a hot shower, clean clothes, your bed.. but you don’t have a key and you don’t know the passcode, you try random combinations but nothing works, the door stays closed, duff to your cries.

You break down, tears streaming your face, you give up on the door and slid to the ground, leaning against the wall you sit alone in the hallway waiting for jaemin’s return.

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mayraki]

✧ chapter three: a boyfriend like him - b. barnes x oc series ✧

-> zacharylevis’ gif

‘let’s play fire with fire’ series masterlist

my masterlist

summary: as bucky, sera and sam prepare themselves for their next step into the mission, some weird and unexpected events lead to new feelings and fights growing into their little team.

FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED! :)

“Jayme Jefferson. That’s his name.” Sera said to the poor working girl trying to catch every word Sera was saying.

“Yeah, I know him but he doesn’t work here anymore. He quit three days ago.” The girl said while she was cleaning the counter at the coffee shop. Sera furrowed her eyebrows as she felt her heart dropping to her stomach when the math hit right in her head. “Three days ago?” She asked getting closer to the girl before she slowly nodded, trying to understand what were all the questions about.

“That’s very odd.” Sam said behind Sera which made everyone turn to him.

“What is?” The girl asked confused but non of them even tried to explain something to the confused girl, Sera just sigh and turned to the working girl once again.

“Can you describe him for me?”

“I don’t know. He was very tall and strong, he had tattoos on his neck and arms. But what caught my attention even more when I met him was his white hair.”

“White hair?” Bucky asked quickly.

“Yeah.” Sera noticed how the girl locked eyes with Bucky and soon felt intimidated by the way he was looking at her, or maybe it was the way someone as attractive as Bucky was looking at her, either way she soon regained control of her words and kept talking. “I first got really confused because he didn’t seem the type to work at a coffee shop and from the back he looked like an old man, you know, the white hair and all. But his face didn’t show him being more than 40.”

“I don’t know about you,” Sam said “but that guy sounds like the perfect sidekick douche who would follow the big man like a dog following a treat.”

The girl furrowed her eyebrows confused at the comparison while looking at Sam but then when Sera nodded and let out a long sigh, she went back to her with the confusion still on her face. “Alright. Thank you for your help.”

“Are you guys like detectives or something?” She asked the moment the three of them were about to leave the counter.

“Not really-” Sam said but then was interrupted by the girl gasping loudly and covering her mouth with her hand, gaining a couple of stares on the way.

“Oh my God, you’re the Falcon.” She said in a loud whisper as Sam immediately let out a tiny smile and nodded.

“Yeah, I am.”

Sera turned to Bucky with an eyebrow lifted as he had his arms across his chest, she took a step to be closer to him and then whispered to him. “I didn’t know he had a fan club.” Sera said with a tiny smile on her face but Bucky didn’t respond, he just let out a tiny laugh and kept looking at the girl trying to not freak out.

“Can I get you guys anything?” She said once she took the picture with Sam and left her phone inside her back pocket.

Sera tilted her head sideways and lifted her eyebrows. “Do you have anything with vodka in it?” As soon as she said those words she heard Sam letting out a tiny laugh while Bucky just shook his head, even though a little smile escaped his lips.

The girl let out a smile but then shook her head. “Not really.”

“Then I’m good, thank you.” Sera said after letting out sigh and finally turning around to sit down at one of the tables, disappointed of the poor progress they just made.

“So he decides to quit a day before going out with Angela. The more we found out about him is not good on his case.” Bucky said once they all sat down and tried to recolect all the information they had.

“No, it isn’t.” Sera said while looking at the window she had next to her seat.

Sera’s eyes were directed to the window but her mind wasn’t in it at all, all she could think about it was her friend and where she might be... or even if she was alive in the first place. That thought consumed her brain fully no matter how much she tried, even if she wanted to erase it and focus on what was important: finding her. “Is there anything else your friend told you about him?” Sam asked trying to catch Sera’s eyes, but she didn’t took them away from the window.

“Not that I recall. She was just very excited and- couldn’t wait to go out with him.” She said softly.

Bucky y Sam noticed the way that Sera was acting and couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation. Yes, it wasn’t their fault that the guy they were after took Angela, Jackson was the one to blame, but they were the reason Sera and her friend were in it to begin with. They both locked eyes while Sam was letting out a tiny sigh as the guilt was growing each second that was passing. “Sounds like she really liked him.” He said and Sera slowly nodded furrowing her eyebrows. She was on her own world, trying to get every idea she had on him and her friend right in order to see if anything she hadn’t thought before could help her, but no matter how many things she remembered or even could slightly help her, nothing seemed to take her to the next step or even make sense. As Bucky had his eyes on Sera, even if she wasn’t staring at him he could see the sadness in her eyes. He felt so stupid and useless because there was nothing that was coming to his mind that could help her in any way, nothing that could make her feel better o even push the mission a little bit. And Sam’s silence made him understand that he didn’t had anything either. The silence surrounding their table became so awful that the tension could be cut with a knife. But Sera didn’t seem to care, her eyes were still glued to the window, so still that she looked like she was frozen, even if her mind wasn’t.

Bucky’s mind was still trying to look for something when he felt his phone vibrating on his backpocket. Picking it up to see what it was he reached his hand towards his back and unlocked it once he had it on his hand. His eyes were moving towards the notification but then quickly stopped once the app that was going to save them appeared on his sight. “Wait, we have his name, right?” Bucky said gaining the looks of Sera and Sam. Sera nodded confused as she and Sam were waiting for Bucky to speak again. “I know this app.”

“Do you know an app?” Sera asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Yes... what?” Bucky asked looking back and forth to Sam and Sera and their confused looks.

“Nothing. Is just a little bit weird having grandpa talk about apps. That’s all.” Sera said gaining a tiny laugh out of Sam’s mouth.

Bucky slightly opened his mouth offended. “What? I know about apps.”

“Knowing how to open your contacts list isn’t knowing an app.” Sam said looking at Bucky’s phone and realising that there wasn’t more than 2 apps on his phone.

Bucky looked down to his phone screen and moved his fingers looking for something to show them both. “I have- I have Instagram.” He lifted his phone and waved it as the app was opening. Sera and Sam gave Bucky a weird look so he took down the phone and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t post anything- I just, I downloaded because it has pretty pictures.”

Sera bit her lower lip trying to hide a laugh coming out of her mouth as a thought came into her mind. Trying to keep that thought inside, she closed her eyes but her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own since it didn’t took long to let out the words after that. “Pretty pictures of pretty ladies showing their butts?” She said to annoy him with her joking tone.

Bucky’s eyes went wide open as Sam let out the biggest laugh ever, gaining some looks from the people on the coffee shop. “What?! I don’t follow that.”

“He definitely follows at least one.” Sam said trying to see Bucky’s phone screen.

“Oh, c’mon, no shame here. They’re hot.” Sera said trying to not laugh at Bucky’s expression.

“Yeah, man- I mean, we get it. You spent a lot of years like a frozen lolly pop, I get that is new for you to have all those things right on your hand. It was weird for me too!”

Bucky let out a long sigh and shook his head. “How did we get here?”

Sera locked eyes with Sam and they both saw how the other didn’t want to end the conversation, and wanting to annoy Bucky even more, Sera tilted her head and started naming with her fingers. “Is she blonde? Brunette? Long hair or short hair? C’mon, how does grandpa like his women?” She said loudly enough so the people around them heard. As some people were staring, Bucky turned around and did a little smile before going back as Sera with his killing stare.

“Seriously?”

“It’s cool man!” Sera said lifting his hands into the air.

“Granda has Instagram, cool to know.” Sam said after letting out a laugh and playfully punching Bucky on the arm.

“Can we go back to my app please?”

“Sure, enlighten us with your app, please.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and touched the icon to slowly see the app opening. Once opened, he turned the phone around to show the screen to Sam and Sera, who quickly got closer to the phone. “This app allows us to search for anyone on the system.”

“System?”

“Yeah. You write their name down and you can see a little bit of information about them and some of their family tree.”

Sera looked at Sam confused but then went back to Bucky. “And how, may I ask, do you know about this app?”

Bucky didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know if he should tell the truth or not. He didn’t used the app anymore but the reason why he used it wasn’t something that anyone would pas unnoticed, even if he wasn’t what he used to be anymore. “I used to use it for... to search people.” He said but when Sam and Sera didn’t say anything back, he let out a tiny sigh and looked at his phone screen. “People that I used to know as the winter soldier.”

“Ah, got it.” Sera said nodding, not giving much importance to the reason why Bucky had it. And that, caught his attention. She didn’t ask why, or what did he exactly did with it, or anything else, she just nodded and waited for Bucky to keep talking about the app. He clearly wasn’t expecting that, and his eyes were definitely saying. He locked eyes with Sera and noticed the little smile she had on her face. Her eyes weren’t full of disappointment or fear like Bucky would usually see when he talked about his winter soldier past, her eyes were just... looking at him. Like he was a person ready to help her out, not seeing him as a... killer. And that wasn’t very common with the new people on his life.

“How do know this app is going to work?” Sam asked making Bucky and Sera turned to him.

“It worked for me.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders while getting the app ready.

“Ok, fine, but there’s probably like a hundred thousand of people named Jayme Jefferson.”

“I never said it was going to be easy.”

“I don’t know a lot of people with the name Jayme...” Sera let out a tiny sigh but then furrowed her eyebrows tilting her head to the side “but at the same time I don’t have many friends, so- do it.” As soon as Sera said those words Bucky nodded and looked down to his phone screen. Impatiently, Sera and Sam looked at each other as they were waiting for Bucky to type with her slow fingers. Silence now surrounded them for the second time, but not wanting to go down that dark whole one again, Sera let out tiny smile ready to annoy a working Bucky.

“Look at grandpa with his cellphone and all. Looking all smart and shit.” She said and soon Sam let out a laugh, pushing Bucky with his shoulder.

“Looking all modern. I can get used to that.” He said and Bucky let out an annoyed sigh.

“I hate you two.” He said firmly without taking his eyes away from the screen.

“Aw, stop it.” Sera said moving her hair out the way and tucking it behind her ear. “You’re going to make me blush.”

Bucky left the phone on the table and blocked it. “It’s going to take a couple of minutes.“

“Alright. So let’s go back to the note, it had the letter ‘J’ in it, right?” Sam asked turning to Sera and she quickly nodded. “So, are we sure that Jackson is the one behind it all? I mean, we got another candidate for the whole situation. Or the whole group has like an obsession with the letter J.”

Sera thought for a little bit but then slowly shook her head, feeling her insides burn. “My apartment was all burned and Jackson likes to play with fire. I’m pretty sure it’s him.”

“Alright but we have to be open for other possibilities. Maybe someone who you crossed you on the past.”

“A lot of people don’t like me.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Bucky let out a tiny laugh when Sera gave him the death stare and a fake smile afterwards.

“Aw, the grandpa has jokes now?” Sera jokingly asked but when Bucky was about to open his mouth again, his phone vibrated.

“I got the results back.” He said reading the notification on his screen and quickly unlocking it.

“What does it say?” Sam asked intrigued.

“Ok, there’s a guy that lives a couple of blocks away from here...-” Bucky started reading but then stopped, shaking his head slowly “but he’s 80 years old.”

“Yeah, I’m guessing that’s not him.” Sam said but Sera slight tilted her head backwards, disappointed.

“Well, the girl said that he looked like an old man. Maybe he has some super baby face.” She said, going back to looking at Bucky.

“The next one says that the guy works at a flower shop and has Italian background. Family is from there.”

“Next.” Sera said quickly, shaking her head.

“Ok, the next one... died five years ago.”

“Could be a ghost.” Sam said.

“And this one says that he works at a night club and- weird.”

“What?”

Bucky’s eyes started reading but he wasn’t saying any words. He kept reading and reading until he looked up and finally let out the words Sera and Sam were impatiently waiting. “It doesn’t say anything about his family. It always says something.”

Sera felt her thoughts looking for something even if she didn’t know what it was. But then, Angela’s voice came into her head. “Wait- did you said he works at a night club?”

Bucky nodded. “Why?”

“Angela started telling me like a week ago that she wanted to go to this club on the city, some big famous club that rich and famous people go.”

“And what about it?” Sam asked confused.

“Angela hates going to clubs, she’s more of a big reunion at a house with friends. At first I thought she wanted to try something new and didn’t give much thought into it. But now...” she stopped while her brain was coming up with the conclusion. Once it did, she was about to open her mouth but Sam spoke for her, coming up with the same conclusion like Sera.

“Who better to make someone leave their comfort zone-”

“Than a guy who drives your crazy and you’re very interested in.” Sera finished his sentence and they both let out a tiny smiles, proud of themselves and their tiny progression for the mission.

“I think we got our guy.” Sam said and without another second, him and Sera got up from the table, except Bucky who kept staring at the table without moving a finger.

“Why?” He finally asked when he had the eyes of Sera and Sam on him, both confused. “Why would she want to go there?”

“It’s a club, and the guy she likes works there. It’s simple, Bucky.” Sera said shaking her head.

“Yeah, I know, but what about festivals? Isn’t that better if you want to go on on a... date?”

“Seriously?” Sam asked while Sera closed her eyes not believing what her ears were hearing.

“Yeah. Give the girl some flowers and then take her to the festival.”

Sera locked eyes with Sam who just let out a tiny sigh and shook his head. “He’s from the 40’s. I don’t know.”

Sera turned to Bucky to whisper: “Grandpa” before leaving the table and a confused Bucky behind.

“I’m just saying! And that isn’t an insult! Grandpas are cool!”

>>>

Sera looked out the window and rolled her eyes the moment Sam parked the car in front of the mall. “Sam, we don’t have to do this.” She said turning to see Sam, who just nodded locking eyes with Sera.

“Yes you do. And so does Bucky.” Bucky quickly turned to Sam and opened his mouth offended.

“Why me too?”

“Because you don’t have anything to wear.”

“Yes I do. This is perfectly fine.”

“Yes, if you want to look like a drug dealer or everyone to know that you’re a screwdriver,” Sera bit her lower lip trying to contain her laugh as Sam pointed at Bucky’s tiny sleeves showing a tiny part of his metal arm “you need to get new clothes.” Seeing that Sera wanted to laugh at Bucky, Sam pointed at her and soon that feeling was erased from her. “And your clothes are all burnt and we don’t want you two to gain a lot of eyes. We need to blend in. You do want to do this the right way, don’t you?” Sam waited for Sera to say that she wanted to, but instead, she tilted her head to the side and slowly shook her head.

“Not really.”

“Surprisingly,” Bucky said pointing with his head at Sera on the backseat “I’m with her on this one.”

“C’mon, torch and screwdriver, out of the car.” Sam unlocked the door and as Sera was letting out a long sigh, she took her hand to the handle and quickly opened it.

“You suck.” She said annoyed but Sam just let out a loud laugh.

“Uh, that was a throwback!”

>>>

As Sera’s was impatiently moving her foot up and down, the old lady was looking for a dress that would fit Sera perfectly. Or at least, what the lady thought it would since the smile on her face let Sera and Bucky know that she had what she was looking for, even if Sera didn’t know what that was. “How about this one?” The old lady said the moment she grabbed a dress and lifted it to be in front of Sera. She took her time to see the dress in detail, even if there was not much to look. The frabic seemed thin and see through. It was a color of light orange with sparkles glowing on every side of the dress, making it look like a disco ball and ready to party kind of dress. Sera didn’t know what she wanted, but that was definitely not it. “Uh, that looks... tight.” She said looking at the dress up and down.

“Oh, sweetie,” the old lady grabbed her arm as a smile came out of her lips “you have an amazing figure! You!” She quickly turned to Bucky, who immediately erased his bored expression out of his face and opened his eyes wide open when the old lady slightly punch his arm with the palm of her hand. “Tell her she has a wonderful figure!”

“What? Me?” Bucky asked confused the moment he understood what the woman was trying to say and Sera bit her lower lip trying to hold in a laughter.

“Do you see another man with her? Yes, I’m talking to you, Mr! Compliment your girlfriend!”

Sera, wanting to follow the woman and annoy Bucky, shook her head and let out a long and dramatic sigh. “You’re right. He never compliments me.”

“Men!” The woman said while putting the dress back on the shelf and looking for another one.

“Tell me about it.” Sera said and then quickly turned to Bucky to enjoy the annoyed smile he let out. “Unbelievable.” Bucky said in a whisper which lead to Sera letting out a tiny laugh but then turn back to the old lady, as she was already grabbing another dress to show Sera.

“What about this one?” They both stared at the dress in detail. It was red and it was thinner as the one before, but this one had one thing different: it was shorter. Sera knowing that she didn’t want it, she shook her head but as she was about to open her mouth, she felt Bucky getting closer to the dress to grab it and feel the fabric against his free hand. Carefully watching Bucky, Sera closed her mouth and enjoyed the confused man she had in front of her.

“I think that’s shorter than the one before.” Bucky said with his eyebrows furrowed as her fingers were moving along the dress.

Sera knew that it wasn’t the dress she wanted for the night club, she knew that wearing that dress could lead to her being uncomfortable and not ‘mission’ worthy. She definitely knew that. And for that, Bucky would be right about the dress being too short for her... but she wasn’t going to let that happen. “What?” Sera said quickly. “I can’t wear short dresses?”

The women let out a loud gasp and shook her head in disapproval, while looking at Bucky and his even more confused face. “The audacity of some men!”

“Ok, I’m starting to believe you two made an unspoken agreement to be against me.” Bucky lifted his hands into the air after letting go of the dress and took some steps backwards, ready to sit down on one of the chairs next to the changing rooms, but the old lady wasn’t going to let him get away that easily.

“You’re the one who doesn’t let his beautiful girlfriend wear whatever she wants. Ugh, we always have to deal with boyfriends like him.”

“Like me?”

“Yes, like you Mr. Boyfriends who don’t seem to realise that they’re lucky to have a girl like this one by their side. You’re very fortunate! I mean, look at her!”

Sera let out a laugh but then joined in, once again. “Yes! Look at me, Mr!”

Bucky let out a sigh and slowly shook his head. “All of these because I didn’t compliment her on her figure?”

“Damn right!” The woman and Sera said at the same time.

Sera closed her lips with strength trying to not burst into laughter while Bucky was just killing her with his eyes, but no matter how much he stared, she just couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of annoying Bucky. “Ok. I’m just gonna sit down and wait for when you two decide to stop hating me.” Bucky said before turning around to head towards the chairs.

“Don’t hold your breath!” Sera yelled to then finally, let out the biggest laugh she ever let out.

Bucky’s eyes were glued to the curtains of Sera’s changing room since she walked in to try on the dress the woman picked for her. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the old lady mistaken them both for a couple. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone was... his girlfriend. Even back then, the thought of having a girlfriend seemed so far away for him, ignoring the fact that he was kind of a ladies men, he didn’t even thought about it. And now- after everything that he went through, having to think of someone as normal as having a girlfriend. It was so weird and distant for him, something that he had forgotten how it felt like. Even if it was as simple as that.

“How is it going, sweetie?” The woman said gaining Bucky’s attention making him come back to reality. He looked at the woman as she was waiting for Sera’s answer, and once she did she let out smile and nodded. But the immediately erased it as soon as she locked eyes with the innocent Bucky sitting down in front of Sera’s changing room. “You. You better compliment her with she comes out.” She intimidatingly pointed at Bucky as she gave him a killing stare, almost threatening.

“I will, I will.” He lifted his hands into the air while the lady walked passed him and disappeared behind Bucky. “Jesus. I didn’t know I was going to get told off by someone younger than me today.” He said almost in a whisper. As soon as he let out a sigh he heard the curtain doors opening and the woman quickly walking towards Sera and her new dress.

“So, how does it look?” She said looking down and checking herself out while feeling the fabric against her hands.

The moment Bucky’s eyes laid on her, his tongue got twisted and his mouth went out of breath. The same feeling when people see something to the first time, the electrify going through their body, the eyes wondering every single detail, the desire of touching it and feeling it trying to remember how it feels for later. That’s how Bucky felt the moment she walked out the changing room. It had been a long time since Bucky layed eyes on someone like her, and for the way his eyes were looking at her made it pretty obvious.

Sera had a long red dress that would end on her knees, following her body magically and fitting it like a glove. Right on the end it would let Sera’s legs to move easily and move like the wind was hitting it, but it was just her legs moving. The thin straps let her shoulders and neck be more visible than ever, making her even more elongated than she already was. The redness fitted her skin color perfectly, making it glow under the light of the room and shine like the tiny diamond earrings she was wearing. The red dress was simple, but on her, it wasn’t. And Bucky definitely knew that.

“Oh, that’s even better.” The woman said noticing the silence surrounding Bucky. “A dress that leaves a man without words. We did it.” She gave Sera a high five and walked away, proud of herself and Sera, for leaving Bucky with twisted tongue and with wondering eyes, not being able to take them off her.

“Close your mouth, Romeo,” Sera said pointing with her at Bucky and his slightly opened mouth, him not even noticing it “or a fly will go inside your mouth.” She let out a tiny laugh and titled her head trying to see the embarrassment on Bucky’s face.

“I’ll go pay.” He said trying to sound annoyed once his gained full control of his body and left Sera behind, even if his mind was screaming to not do so.

The moment Sera stepped inside the changing room Bucky’s eyes on her appeared on her mind. The feeling he gave her on her stomach was still even if his eyes were long gone. She bit her lower lip locking eyes with herself on the mirror. It had been a long time since anyone has looked at her like that. It wasn’t like he was looking at her like he wanted to take her to bed, or checking her butt or any other part of her body... she felt like he was liking her. Liking the way she looked on that dress and enjoying her. Not her body, just Sera being under that particular dress. She didn’t know if it was because she hadn’t been around a man in a long time and that’s why she was liking it, or she was liking the fact that it was Bucky who just got mermerised by her, but there was one thing she knew. The butterflies going crazy on her stomach weren’t just there because she missed being looked like that.

“Even if I was harsh with you, I do believe you two make a beautiful couple.” The women said once she grabbed Bucky’s credit card. She went completely silent waiting for Bucky to say something, but he didn’t know what to let out. “She’s a wonderful girl. And I noticed the way you looked at her,” the woman locked eyes with him and let out a tiny, genuine smile “you seem to like her very much.” As soon as those words hit Bucky’s ears his heart dropped to his stomach and not wanting to appear weird, he let out a tiny smile to the woman and nodded, even if that made him look even more weird that he already looked.

Trying to block his mind from taking him places he didn’t want to, he looked around to the dresses he had on his side and tried to see every little detail their had. Flowers, glitter, sparkles, words, quotes, long, short sleeves, tight, loose, he saw everything that was left to see but even then, she was still on his mind. The feeling of having her by his side and calling her his girlfriend... it seemed so weird and yet there he was, imagining it since the old lady said it.

“Bye!” So lost on his thoughts, Bucky didn’t realised that Sera left the changing room and was now by his side, with his payed dress on her hand and waving the card in front of Bucky’s face. “Thank you for your help!” The old lady winked at her and that made Sera turn around to face Bucky confused, who just gently grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the shop. “What happened?” Sera asked once their feet were out.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Bucky said, wanting to leave everything that happened inside that store behind.

“How did it go?” Sam asked the moment his eyes crossed with Sera’s after waiting for them in the car.

“Oh, Sam,” Sera said with a smile after arriving next to him “Bucky got told off by an old lady. It was awesome.”

Sam, confused and surprised at Sera’s words, turned to Bucky who seemed tired and annoyed at the whole situation, but before he could ask something about it Bucky lifted his hand and stopped him. “Don’t ask.” He said before going inside the car, leaving a very confused Sam behind.

The whole way to the apartment Sera and Sam spent talking about their mission and what was next. The night was coming closer and they needed to have everything in order, according more to Sam than to Sera. The car and then the apartment was filled with their voices going back and forth, nothing much out of the ordinary. Expect for one thing, Bucky didn’t let out a word since they all left the mall. It was definitely something weird coming from him since he always had something to say or even be grumpy about, but this time nothing but silence was coming out of his mouth.

Sera, of course, noticed this since once she called him screwdriver he didn’t even let out the same annoyed smile he would always do. Nothing.

Preparing herself for the night that was coming, she walked into the bathroom and took all of her clothes from her body to put on the red dress and black shoes she bought. Sera’s mind knew that she had to be thinking of Angela and that maybe this night club could lead her to her friend, but for some reason, Bucky didn’t seem to want to leave her thoughts. Since she noticed his silence the moment at the store was going around her mind like crazy. She didn’t know what she felt or what it meant, and not wanting to give much thought into it she focused her mind on the dress that her hands were now holding. But even if she tried her hardest, questions and more questions were appearing as the seconds were passing and the more ready she was to face whatever was outside that door.

Sera was the type to leave the fight unfinished or leave everything and end it herself, not wanting to put in danger the ones beside her. She wound usually leave every feeling untouched and save it inside a locked box in her brain, not wanting to open it ever again. And just like before and every thing she has ever done in her life, once her dress was on her and her shoes were ready to carry her anywhere, she grabbed every confused thought she had about Bucky and saved in a tiny box inside of her, with the intention to put it under every other box that was there and forget about it until her last breath.

Just like moments before, the moment she left the bathrooms the only voices surrounding the room and next thing the car, was Sam and Sera’s. The car street lights of the night started to get into the car as they were closer and closer to the night club. Having so many thoughts inside her brain, Sera didn’t realise this was the first time in a long time where she went undercover. Where she went out and put her life on the line because of a mission, so the moment she realised and all those ugly memories came back to her mind her heart started to beat faster as Sam’s words were coming out of his mouth talking about being careful and such. Her fingertips were feeling the heat going towards them as her hands became hotter and hotter every second. Sera closed her eyes and let out a breath trying to calm herself down, and try to remind herself over and over again that that wasn’t her life anymore. And this time was to save a friend, to keep her safe and fix her mistakes. Nothing more than.

Once her heart came back to normal and the feeling of the air being thicker around her disappeared, she opened her eyes and immediately locked eyes with Bucky in the car’s mirror. Sera wanting to know what they were saying kept the eye contact with him, but before she could let out a single thought, Bucky looked around towards the window as Sam kept talking about the mission.

As soon as her eyes noticed the red neon sign spelling the words “the red velvet club” Sera pulled out her phone and unlocked it to search the text with the guy she contacted to get the tickets to go in. Letting Sam and Bucky know she was going to the front door to make sure everything was alright, she walked out of the car once Sam parked it and started walking towards the big men with black suits on.

“What about you?” Sam asked the second Sera was out of his sight, making a very confused Bucky locked eyes with him.

“Me?”

“You’re quiet. I mean, I’m not complaining. Believe me, this is like a dream come true. Just a little confused on why.”

Bucky shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to show any other emotions out. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked why you’re quiet.”

“It sounded like you were asking that.”

“You putting words in my mouth now?”

“What? No!”

Sam looked over to where Sera left and then went back to Bucky, with a grin on his face. “Is it Sera?” Not getting a response back, Sam took that as a yes and asked again: “What happened today and why did you got told off by an old lady?”

“It was nothing.” Bucky answered quickly not wanting to talk about the subject, but the now lifted eyebrow on Sam’s face made his words let out before he could think about them. “Alright, the old lady at the store thought me and Sera were together, and you know her, she played it along and it ended with me getting told off because I didn’t compliment her enough.” As soon as Bucky finished Sam let out a laugh and nodded quickly. “What?”

“That sounds like something she would do.”

“Annoy me? Yes, it does.”

Sam shook his head and went silent while looking at Bucky. “You know, I kinda see it.” He said after a couple of seconds in silence.

“What?”

“You and her. Together. Now that would be a power couple, if you ask me. Your death stare and her red eyes? Wow!” And there it was again, the same feeling Bucky had on the store came back to his body and that made him move uncomfortably on his seat. Sam, noticing this, let out a tiny laugh and grabbed Bucky’s arm. “Oh, am I seeing all the cables on your head malfunctioning? I can see them going all crazy, yes, they’re failing!” He said jokingly as Bucky was facing the other way annoyed, but that didn’t stop him, Sam kept laughing enjoying his little joke he just made. When the silence surrounded the car once again, Sam gently punched Bucky’s shoulder and said softly: “She’s a nice girl, Bucky.”

Bucky let out a tiny sigh turning to face Sam. “I know that. But-”

“But what? Wait, do you have some feelings for her?”

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“It looked like you were going to say that you do.”

“Oh, you’re putting words in my mouth now?”

“Nice one.” Waiting for Bucky to speak again and answer his question, Sam pushed his arm and waved his hands around impatiently. “So!?”

“So what?” Understanding the look on Sam’s face Bucky quickly shook his head. “No!”

“No? Nothing? Do you feel nothing?”

Bucky nodded. “Nothing.”

Sam noticed the little nod Bucky did and the words that came out of his mouth that were completely different. So he took a mental note and kept it on his brain. “Alright. If you say so.” Bucky nodded again and Sam let out a tiny smile, noticing this little action again on Bucky. Even if Sam couldn’t read minds it seemed like, in a way, he could. Since he was right. Bucky did say nothing but inside his brain, he thought of maybe having some sorts of feelings towards Sera made him and his mind go all sorts of crazy. And he had been there before, so repenting it wasn’t something he wanted to do.

>>>

“You better not get drunk tonight, Mr.” Sera said arriving next to Bucky while the music at the club was hitting their ears. The people around them were dancing and having drinks like there was no tomorrow. Even if the lights were as dark as the room itself the moment Sera arrived next to Bucky she quickly noticed the drink on his hand and his wet lips from taking a sip a second earlier.

“I can’t get drunk.” Bucky said shaking his head before taking the glass to his mouth and dropping half of it inside his mouth.

“Oh, wow, I don’t know if I should feel sorry or envy you.” Sera let her back rest on the counter while her eyes where wondering around the room. “Do you miss it?”

“What? Getting drunk and feeling my head wanting to explode the day after? Not really.”

“Oh, c’mon, what about the fun of drinking and doing shit you’ll regret later, like texting an ex or making out with the first person you see?”

“I can still do that.” Bucky let out a tiny smile but as soon as he saw Sera’s excited face he erased it, knowing what going to happen next.

“Uh! Tell me about those things you did and that you regretted later. Spill the tea.” Sera turned to the side and got closer to Bucky, not wanting to miss any words coming out of his mouth. But Bucky furrowed his eyebrows confused before finishing his drink and leaving it on the counter.

“Spill the tea? Why would I spill the tea? What does that even mean?”

“It means that you spill all the secrets.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“You don’t have to be so boring. C’mon, I want to know what did Bucky Barnes did when he was a young man, have you ever texted an ex? Hook up with more than three people in one night? C’mon, spill it!”

Bucky let out a long sigh. “And you say you’re not a kid?”

“Hey, screwdriver and torch,” Sam said on their ears “focus on finding the guy, would you? We have a mission to do. Damn! I can’t see shit from up here.” Sera turned to her left and looked up to see Sam on the second floor surrounded by people dancing.

“Those names are never going to get old, are they?” She asked shaking her head after going to back to Bucky, who slowly shook his head.

“Knowing Sam... no.”

After looking around Sera left Bucky behind and started walking around the night club to see if there was something out of the ordinary. But nothing caught her attention, people were dancing, drinking, making out, she even heard some loud fights as she was walking. But nothing that could lead to the guy named Jayme. Going back to the counter and grabbing the drinks menu, she turned her head down but kept her eyes looking up trying to see if anyone with white hair caught her attention, but just like before, nothing. No one that looked like the description the girl at the coffee shop gave them. Soon after she was joined by Bucky but by the way he looked, Sera knew that he didn’t have anything either.

Not having any progression whatsoever, Sera called the bartender and, seconds later, she transformed into a business woman that wanted to work with the boss. So getting the part right, she started asking questions left and right, getting the answer she wanted.

“So, waiting it is.” Sera said when the bartender walked away, after telling Sera the Big Man didn’t came out for another half hour. She turned to the big fake red throne that was on the right side of the night club and sighed, seeing the empty sit under the dark light. “I hate waiting.” She said once she turned towards the counter and grabbed the drinks menu once again.

“Are you old enough to drink?” Bucky asked next to her, looking down to the menu on Sera’s hand.

“Yeah,” Sera said with an eyebrow lifted confused “since like five years ago. How old do you think I am?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders locking eyes with Sera. “Like twenty.”

“You know, being 106 years old doesn’t mean that you have to act like a grumpy old man.”

“If I want to.”

Sera rolled her eyes and went back to the menu between her hands. “What a fun life- Oh! There’s a drink called ‘Fire Ball’. I think I’m gonna like that one.”

Seconds later, Sera’s hand was now holding her cold drink while Bucky was just staring at her and her little smile on her face. He moved to the side trying to keep his mind focus on the people around him but once Sera lifted her cup to stare at the weird red liquid inside of it, Bucky’s head unintentionally turned back to her to look at her dark pink lips. So focused on her drink, she slightly opened her mouth and tilted her head to the side which made it easier for Bucky to see her cheeks and lips under the dark light. He didn’t know what it was about them, but he couldn’t stop staring at them. It was like he was under some spell and his eyes were glued to her. Suddenly, when she licked her lips making them shine against the light, Bucky quickly moved his eyes to the side when the strange desire of tasting her lips appeared on his. Wondering how they felt like he strengthen his back and moved uncomfortably on his place. But once again, like she was screaming his name, Bucky went back to look at her and immediately stared at Sera’s tongue moving between her lips as she was so focused staring at the strange looking drink. Like a fast train, the image of Bucky’s tongue playing with hers appeared on his mind but quickly wanting to erase it, he moved his head side to side and cleared his throat, embarrassed of his wild thoughts.

At that point, Bucky was so confused on why his mind was having those kind of strange desires and images. He didn’t know what to do or how to stop it, and watching Sera lick her lips once again wasn’t helping him.

“I wonder how they made this.” Sera said innocently, like she didn’t had the man by her side wanting to taste her lips as he was grabbing her cheek with his cold metal arm.

Before Bucky could get his thoughts in order and let out a single word, a guy appeared next to Sera and said with a grin: “You need to be careful with that one, they say it burns your throat like fire.”

Sera turned to the man and looked him up and down. He had a black suit on with a black shirt underneath. His black gloves were hiding his hands but they seemed to be bigger than Sera’s. His hair was brown and messy but it looked good on him and his pink thick lips, they went well with his sharp jawline and big eyebrows. He was definitely tall, probably to heads taller, making his big shoulders look even more bigger from Sera’s perspective. He was ms very was attractive. Looking down to his chest noticing the little name tag and reading “Lyle” Sera smiled to herself and then nodded, going back to his dark green eyes.

“I think I’ll be just fine.” She said seconds before lifting her drink and moving it towards her mouth. Feeling the hot liquid going down her throat Sera closed her eyes and enjoyed it, that usual sensation against her skin and throat going down to her stomach. It was burning like fire, but being Sera, that was just another normal feeling for her.

“Wow. I’m impressed.” Lyle said after Sera opened her eyes and noticing that not single muscle from her face moved since she took that liquid inside her body.

Sera smiled proudly while getting her face closer to Lyle’s. “Not my first time having fire go down my throat.”

Lyle let out a laugh taking Sera’s word as a joke, even if there were nothing but the truth.

“Are you from around here?” He asked.

“Not really. How about you?”

“Yeah, I know a guy that works here so I come pretty often.”

As soon as he said those words Sera’s suspicions bacame true and the opening to finding something out appeared right in front of her eyes. “Interesting.” Sera slowly nodded. “How do you know him?”

“Work.”

“What kind of work?” She asked innocently.

Lyle let out a tiny laugh and then looked the other way. “I’m pretty sure a girl like you doesn’t want to know about the kind of work that I do.”

“A girl like me?” Sera asked with her eyebrows lifted but then when she got not answer from him, she slowly nodded. Even if she was annoyed the guy was playing hard, she let out a little smile not wanting to show any bad emotions to Lyle. “Alright. You’re the mysterious guy, got it.”

“I’m not the mysterious guy.” Lyle let out a laugh once he locked eyes with Sera once again. “I just don’t think your innocent mind would understand what I do. That’s all.”

Sera felt that usual burning sensation on her chest after hearing those words, but instead of burning the guy to the ground like her eyes wanted, she just tilted her head to the side innocently and bit her lower lip. “What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“With that pretty face of yours, c’mon, it’s pretty obvious. I just know you won’t like it, so you and your pretty face can stay being pretty and not worry about anything else.”

Sera smiled even if her mind was planning murder right on that second. She felt her veins pounding as her blood was running faster than before, the anger that was growing on her body felt like it was going to explode the fire inside, but controlling it she let out a tiny laugh and got even more closer to Lyle, who directly looked at her lips and let out a grin.

“And let the men work, right?” She asked.

“Exactly.” Lyle’s grin turned into a smile, and that didn’t help his case on not dying under Sera’s eyes. “I like that we’re starting to understand ourselves.” Sera nodded taking her hand towards his arm and touching it gently ignoring the fact that she felt disgusted by doing it. “Would you like to dance?” Lyle asked noticing her arm and looking back at her desirable eyes.

Sera’s mind was screaming at her to call the whole thing off but wanting to find out more about him and his work was even stronger. So once she nodded with a smile, Lyle let out a grin and moved his arm towards Sera’s back but before his hand could get to her waist, a cold metal arm grabbed it and pushed it away.

Feeling the coldness on her back, Sera turned around and looked at Bucky, who’s jaw was tensed and was looking at Lyle with his killing stare.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Bucky said walking closer to Sera and standing right next to her. She looked at him confused not understanding what was his deal, she was getting close to the guy that might have information and there was Bucky, killing him with his eyes.

“Boyfriend?” Lyle asked turning to Sera.

“He wishes.” She said, trying to not sound angry at Bucky ruining her opportunity.

“Alright then.” Lyle said even if Bucky still wasn’t taking his eyes away from him. “So? How about that dance?” He was about to grab Sera’s waist once again but before he could get any closer, Bucky stepped in front of her to look down at Lyle.

“The lady is going to pass.” Bucky said firmly.

Confused as ever, Sera stepped to the side and touched his shoulder to move him back but he barely moved.

“Bucky.” Sera said to gain his attention but it was useless, he didn’t want to let go of Lyle.

“Hey, how about you leave the pretty lady alone so she can dance with me, alright? I promise I’m gonna take good care of her. She’s in good hands.”

Sera closed his eyes feeling sorry for Lyle since his words weren’t going to help the fact that an angry Bucky wanted to separate his neck from his head right on that moment. For whatever reason.

“Do you still want to keep those hands?” Bucky said firmly getting closer to Lyle’s face and getting his jaw even more tensed that before. It looked like it was going to break the next second. But before Bucky could move another muscle, Sera grabbed his shoulder once again, and this time with more strength and anger inside her body.

“Bucky-"

“What’s your problem, man? Are you seriously angry because she wants me and not you?” The need to punch Lyle became even more stronger for Sera right as he said those words. He was going to be crashed and he didn’t even knew. He had balls for facing someone as frightening looking as Bucky, Sera had to give him that. Stupid, but brave.

“You don’t want to see me angry.” Bucky said once again, trying to kill him with his eyes.

“Bucky!”

“Do you want to take this outside?” Lyle let out a laugh and then turned to grab Sera’s hand and lock eyes with her. “Do you mind, sweetheart? I know it won’t take long.” He was about to give her hand a kiss but before his lips could get anywhere else Bucky grabbed his hand and quickly twisted it to make Lyle leave Sera’s hand alone.

“Hey, hey,” Sam, finally, appeared from behind Bucky and grabbed his shoulder. “chill man.”

“Who are you?!” Lyle asked grabbing his hand in pain.

“I’m sorry, man, why don’t I buy you a drink and we can forget about all of this, huh? Sounds good?” Sam said as Bucky turned the other way and let the biggest angry sigh out of his mouth.

“Whatever. She’s not that worth it, anyway.” Lyle said before shaking his head and walking away, leaving a very confused Sera behind.

“What the fuck was that about?” Sera yelled while turning to Bucky once her mind fully processed what just happened.

“Guys-” Sam lifted his hand to stop Bucky and Sera from having a fight but it was too late, Bucky already turned to Sera to look at her angrily.

“I can ask you the same thing.” He said firmly with hot air coming out of his nose.

“What are you talking about? He said that he knew someone who worked here so I was trying to get more information.”

“Oh is that what you were doing? Because all I could see was you trying to get that guy inside your pants.” Sera opened her mouth offended and felt the fire growing on her fingertips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? What is your problem?”

“My problem is you not being professional enough.” Bucky got closer to Sera’s face and felt how the air coming out of their mouths were mixing with each other.

“Says the guy who almost got into a fight because someone asked me to dance!”

Bucky let out a grin and licked his lips annoyed, before unintentionally looking down at Sera’s lips. “Just do your job, Thompson.” He said as he locked eyes with her once again.

“I will, Barnes.” Her firm tone felt like it could shake the walls of the night club if she wanted to.

The tension and the anger growing on their veins could be visible from their eyes. The anger each felt inside of them was starting to make them feel like bombs about to explode. Neither of them knew why they felt so angry, but one thing was for sure, it wasn’t angry all they felt for the other.

“Hey, guys, stop it!” Sam put his hand on both chests and with strength pushed them apart, but Bucky and Sera didn’t take their eyes off the other. “Jesus! It looks like you two are going to burn each other with your own eyes.”

“If only I could.” Sera said shaking her head and turning to the side while crossing her arms around her chest.

“Well, maybe later because either someone’s been playing dress up or our guy is here.” As soon as Sam let out those words Bucky and Sera quickly turned to where Sam was looking at and immediately saw the big guy walking towards his big throne. He had a big brown coat on so the only thing there was left to see was his big and long black boots. His hair was long and blonde that went perfectly with his beard. But what caught everyone’s attention even more was the guy’s light blue eyes, almost grey, brighter than any other light at the night club. “Can you two children behave right now or am I going to have to do this alone because you two are going to kill each other?” Sam said gaining the looks of Bucky and Sera once again. Without looking at Bucky, Sera let out a long breath through her nose and walked towards the big guy and his big boy coat.

Sam, turning to Bucky he grabbed his shoulder as they both started to follow Sera.

“So, nothing, huh?” Sam asked after noticing Bucky’s eyes following Sera as she was walking away.

Bucky let out a long angry sigh before looking down to the floor as his feet were walking. That was what he said, and he still stood by it, but someone doesn’t do and feel all of that for someone that it’s just a “Nothing.”

-LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED-

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[teknicianwrites]

Welcome to DADWC! How about "I’m tired…I’ll nap. Destroy the universe later" for Sera and Inky?

Thanks for the prompt! Here is some Sera/Adaar, with a small side of Adoribull. Had a lot of fun writing team Chaotic Gay. A little fluff, a little h/c.

@dadrunkwriting

Akeelah rolled out from beneath the falling dragon, the leather of her coat nearly catching in the monster's claws as it crashed into the ground. Hot blood sprayed across her vitaar as she let out a wild cry of triumph.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about!" Bull crowed, whooping out a deep laugh that Akeelah joined with a victorious shout to the sky. Bull bounded to her side and grabbed her shoulder. "Boss. Boss. That was incredible. Tell me we're going to do it again. You feel it too, right? It was amazing."

"That was- it- that-" she tried, utterly incapable of finding words in Common or Qunlat to express the absolute feral joy pumping through her veins.

"That was the hottest friggin' thing I've ever seen!" Sera leapt on her back, nearly making Akeelah overbalance as legs wrapped around her waist and hands gripped her shoulders. Bull steadied her with a knowing grin before stepping back to give them space. Sera gave a light tug at her horns, and Akeelah ignored the pulse of pain from the bruises she'd earned when she'd been too slow with a fade step. "Get that shit off your face so I can kiss you," Sera murmured in her ear.

"Yes, ma'am." Akeelah let Sera pull her head back, shivering at the command and the hungry look in Sera's eyes. She righted herself to search through the pack at her hip and pulled out a clean rag she soaked from her canteen.

Cleaning the poison from her face took an eternity as Sera whispered suggestions of all the things she wanted to do once they were alone at camp. Akeelah whined when Sera proposed sending the others back ahead of them and not waiting for a tent, and firmly reminded herself that Sera would not appreciate surprise hallucinations if she wasn't thorough and kissed her with deathroot on her lips.

"Savages, the lot of you," Dorian called as he picked his way carefully out of the treeline, regarding their display with amusement. Sera broke her litany of lurid fantasies to stick her tongue out at him, and Akeelah used the reprieve to dry her face with a clean cloth, satisfied when it came away with no lingering traces of vitaar.

Bull grinned and strode to Dorian, tugging him by the belt and resting a hand on his ass. "You love it."

"Hm, hardly," Dorian sniffed. Akeelah smiled when he rolled his eyes fondly as Bull pulled him closer. "Ah, no, Sera is quite right. Paint comes off before you get your mouth near me," he tutted, a firm hand to Bull's pauldron. Bull moved in a playful threat like he might try anyway, and chuckled as Dorian slipped free from his grasp.

It made Akeelah feel warm, watching them. She still wanted to beat Halward's face in for the shame he'd instilled in his son. It had taken long months before Dorian had stopped tensing anytime Bull expressed his affection publicly, and though Dorian was still cautious in unfamiliar company, it was gratifying that he felt comfortable around her.

Sera broke her train of thought when she swung around to Akeelah's front and pulled her in for a desperate kiss. Akeelah moaned into her mouth, tasting the bittersweet hint of elfroot that lingered on her lips. Sera gripped her horns for purchase and Akeelah winced.

She broke from the kiss, giving Sera a reassuring smile at her confusion. Normally Akeelah enjoyed Sera's fascination with her horns, which Sera had quickly learned to take advantage of. She tilted her head to the side so Sera could see the bruising above her ear and gently repositioned Sera's hands to her neck.

"You're getting quite skilled with that sword, dear Herald," Dorian said conversationally. Sera made a grumpy sound against her jaw when she turned to him to grimace at the title. He smiled winningly at the reaction to his teasing. Any other man might have looked awkward, standing in a clearing watching two women tangle together shamelessly while waiting for his own lover to finish washing up, but Dorian stood regal as ever. "Soon you'll be giving our Madame de Fer a run for her money."

Sera looked up from where she'd moved to Akeelah's throat. "Oh, piss on Vivvy," she sneered. "Coryphenus better be shaking in his knickers, Buckles can take the whole friggin' world."

Akeelah's vision swam as Sera's animated gestures moved too fast for her eyes to follow. She blinked, trying to focus, and gripped Sera tighter to keep her from falling as she completely let go of her neck to make rude gestures at an imaginary Vivienne.

"Aiming too low there, Sera," a deep voice said from behind her. Akeelah jumped, heart racing at finding a Qunari at her side… but it was Bull. Of course it was Bull. She knew Bull. Bull was her friend. Bull was safe. "With us at her side, I think she can take the universe."

"And destroy it as she does so, with you two at her back," Dorian quipped, twirling his staff lazily. It made Akeelah's stomach turn as it spun, sparking with idle lightning.

Akeelah didn't understand whatever Sera said back. It was too loud, right in her ear. She tried to step back, but Sera came with her. That's right. Sera was wrapped around her. Can't step away. Gotta put her down.

She glanced around for a spot free of dragon blood, and the sunlight glinting off the creature's scales hit her like daggers through her eyes. She snapped them shut and tried to breathe.

Everything was so bright. Everything was so loud. Everything was too much. It all made her dizzy. It was exhausting. She was exhausted.

"I’m tired," she whispered, trying to remember what they were talking about. "I'll nap. Destroy the universe later."

Hands suddenly gripped her coat tight. "Buckles? Hey, woah, Buckles!"

She whined at the voice and opened her eyes. Things looked different. Sera was taller than her. How had that happened?

Oh. Because she was kneeling. She remembered wanting to sit down. She wondered if she'd done it on purpose.

"Boss, you ok?" Bull crouched next to Sera in front of her, his good eye looking at her in concern.

Akeelah tensed at the Ben Hassrath being so close. She felt behind for her staff, panic mounting when she couldn't find it. How did she end up unarmed this close to him?

"M'fine," she lied, fighting back dizziness, unwilling to show weakness to a Qunari.

No. Not Qunari. Not Ben Hassrath. Tal Vashoth. Bull was Tal Vashoth. Why did she keep forgetting? She was fine. She was safe. "Sleepy," she slurred, lowering herself gracelessly into the grass.

"No, no, no, none of that." Warm hands were on her face and she whined when fingertips pulled her eyelids open. Dorian gazed intently into her eyes. "Well, hopefully the universe doesn't hit as hard as a dragon's tail. I do believe our Inquisitor has a concussion."

"Well, fix it!" Sera shouted. Why was she shouting? Shouting made her stomach turn. Akeelah tried to shush her and was ignored. "Wave your magic fingers or whatever and get rid of the concoction!"

Dorian snorted and cupped her cheeks. Warm hands got warmer, and she sighed contentedly at the feeling of his magic against her scalp.

Sera dropped to her knees and stared intently at Akeelah's face, ears twitching as Dorian's fingers prodded gently along her skull. She looked scared. Akeelah didn't want her to be scared.

"You make the best concoctions," Akeelah told her, brushing uneven golden hair from her eyes. "I like it when you throw bees."

Sera's face softened and she caught Akeelah's hand to press a kiss into her palm. "Hey, you're cute like this and all, but you're freaking me out," she said into her skin. "Come on, Dorian, do something!"

"Sera, this thing I'm doing right now?" he asked through gritted teeth. "This is me doing something. I am 'waving my magic fingers' as we speak. Head trauma is not my specialty."

Sera looked ready to yell at him. Akeelah pressed her hand more firmly on Sera's mouth to stop her. "Shhh. Head hurts. Quiet is nice."

Sera bit her lip and resumed her silent vigil, gripping her hand tight. Bull squeezed her shoulder. "It's ok, Sera. Concussions aren't that bad. I've had dozens."

"That explains so much about you," Dorian muttered as his fingers prodded near her left horn. Akeelah winced and he focused his magic there.

Something eased in her head, relieving a pounding tightness she hadn't fully processed until it was eased back. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

Gradually the pain faded to slight pressure. Nausea and dizziness receded, and when she opened her eyes the light no longer felt like an enemy combatant. She let out a breath of relief.

"Ok, I've done what I can," Dorian announced after a last sweep around her head. He stood, brushing leaves and dirt from his knees. "Varric's friend should still be at Skyhold, yes? We'll have him take a look at her when we get back, but I think she'll be fine."

"What do you mean, you think?" Sera demanded as Bull helped Akeelah to her feet.

"I'm a necromancer, not a spirit healer," Dorian explained impatiently. "I'll be of more use after she's dead."

Sera whirled on him, murder in her eyes, and Bull stepped between them.

"She's not going to die, Sera," he placated. "He's being facetious."

Sera halted her advance as her face scrunched in confusion. "There's fish?"

Bull chuckled, and Akeelah was gratified the deep rumble didn't set her ears ringing. "He thinks he's cute."

"Well, it's not! Her maybe dying isn't friggin' cute!" Sera glared at Dorian, who raised his arms in apology or surrender. Akeelah gently pulled her back against her chest.

"You're cute," she told her, kissing her hair. "The cutest. Prettiest woman I know."

Tension melted out of Sera as she leaned into her. "... you're not too bad yourself," she said, turning to wrap Akeelah's waist in a fierce hug. "Don't you die on me, yeah? I'll be real mad if you die on me," she mumbled into her shirt.

Akeelah smiled and bent to give her a proper kiss. "Ok. I won't. I promise. Still got the universe to fight, remember?"

Sera giggled and pulled back, quickly wiping at her eyes. "I'll hold you to that."

"I would advise not holding her horns until Hawke looks at her," Dorian called over. "She still has a head wound. Don't undo all my hard work in a fit of passion."

Akeelah grinned when color rose to Dorian's cheeks as Bull whispered something in his ear. She would put all her money on it being filthy and related to his own affinity for horns, judging by the flustered way Dorian smoothed out his tunic.

She smiled down at Sera and was surprised to see she looked stricken. "What's wrong?"

"I made you worse," Sera told the ground. "You were fine and then I just started grabbing your horns after you got hit in the head and then you fell-"

"Hey, no." Akeelah tilted her chin up and Sera met her gaze reluctantly. "I thought I was fine too. Now we know. No horns after a dragon to the face."

Sera huffed, the corner of her mouth quirking. Akeelah kissed her twitching lips until they stopped fighting to frown. She caressed her cheeks, and Sera grabbed her coat, and Dorian cleared his throat.

"I do hate to interrupt a good time, but I'm not comfortable leaving you behind until you've seen a proper healer, so unless you have a thing for exhibitionism…"

"Spoilsport," Bull laughed. "I wanted to see how long it took them to remember we're here."

Sera made a face. "Pfft, fine. Let's head back to camp," she said grumpily. Akeelah took her hand and Sera squeezed it as they started walking.

Bull put an arm over Dorian's shoulders and pulled him in; Dorian sighed and allowed it. "Come on, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can celebrate. And we've all got a lot of celebrating to do."

[johaerys-writes]

Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 39: Rebel Song

The gang returns to the war-torn Orlesian countryside, and the welcome they receive is far from warm. Banter and action, this time with even more terrible jokes because Sera has come with :’D

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

Tristan rubbed his eyes with a yawn. The steady rocking of his horse and the thick, humid heat was making him sleepy. His backside wasn’t at its best either, admittedly: they had been riding for the better part of the week, and this day was already drawing near its end.

The journey through the Orlesian countryside had been everything that Tristan had expected, and worse. So, so much worse. His advisors had warned him that things would be different from when he had last been to the place, but even their expectations had been inaccurate, by a fairly large margin.

He and his party had followed the Imperial Highway for as long as they could- the only road, really, that was still accessible to travellers for the most part. Most other great roads, as the various Inquisition agents at the outposts they had stopped along the way had informed them, had been closed off by the barricades set up by either Gaspard’s or Celene’s armies, or were unsafe for small groups to traverse. That, too, was new: the number of outlaws and bandits had increased tenfold during the months Tristan had been away- and it hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing the last time, either. Last time around it had been bands of Freemen roaming the land- this time, it was men and women that evidently had even less than the deserters from the armies to lose and preyed on whoever was poor or desperate enough to travel the countryside alone without arms or protection. They were vicious, but cowardly, never taking on large or armed groups, and swore no allegiance to anyone at all.

Which raised the question: where were the Freemen?

“There haven’t been any sightings in weeks, Ser,” an Inquisition scout informed him, when they’d stopped for the night at an Inquisition camp just past Lydes. “After word has spread of your victory in the Emerald Graves, most of their camps were deserted soon after. Some say that they’ve returned to their homes, those who still had one, while others claim they have all moved out of the plains and gone to the West, where there are still empty places for them to settle, and no one to come after them.”

“The West?” Tristan had asked the young woman in curiosity. “There’s nothing past here at all, and all western roads lead to the Badlands. Even the Freemen that are left cannot be that desperate.”

The scout had simply shrugged.

It didn’t make much sense to Tristan- but then again, not much of what the Freemen did made sense to him. For the next few days, as they steadily trudged along the Imperial Highway, alongside throngs of refugees and the occasional merchant caravan that was still bold enough to brave the war-torn countryside, they kept passing by abandoned camps, or the old manors and watchtowers that had been claimed, rummaged, and then left to ruin by the Freemen. Apart from the occasional travel weary and worn down infantry division from either Celene’s or Gaspard’s armies, whose officers merely pretended to keep an eye over the towns and villages that had been claimed during the war, the only other people they encountered were beggars or tired and scared men, women and children with dirt smudged faces and clothes that were about to fall off their skinny shoulders.

Orlais really, really couldn’t get much worse than this.

With a sigh, Tristan straightened on his saddle, rolled his shoulders, tilted his head this way and that. Travelling on horseback all day did not agree with him, and the devastation all around him did nothing to lift his mood. He could feel his stomach churning and his head throbbing ever so slightly as the rays of the setting sun fell straight into his eyes. The only thing that settled his upset stomach on those days was his fine Antivan brandy, though he had been careful not to drink too much. He needed to stay alert, and the humid heat that surrounded them like a blanket took most of the edge off all by itself. Tristan could already feel his eyelids drooping, and it wasn’t even nightfall yet.

Well. One swig couldn’t hurt much, could it?

From atop his bay gelding, Dorian shot him a curious look when he saw him tipping his flak over his lips. Tristan swallowed the mouthful of brandy, then raised his eyebrows at him in question.

“How come you still have enough of this?” Dorian asked him in a low voice, steering his horse so he was riding beside him. “I thought you would have finished it days ago.”

“I’ve been careful with it,” Tristan replied as he carefully screwed the flask’s cap shut. “I only brought the one, and we still have weeks ahead of us. What?” he asked when Dorian blinked.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just… impressed that’s all.”

“Are you? I don’t know whether to feel proud or concerned that you think my resolve so brittle.”

“Brittle?” Dorian chuckled softly, “Not at all. I don’t know anyone that’s more stubborn than you are, in fact.”

“Except for you, you mean?” Dorian rolled his eyes, and Tristan grinned. How he liked to tease him. His lips that pursed ever so slightly, his eyebrow that lifted just a bit, the rueful little glances he shot him out of the corner of his eye before he looked away. How he managed to be irresistible even when irked, Tristan could never understand. It made him want to tease him all the more.

“In any case,” Tristan said casually, slipping the flask back in his coat pocket, “if you wanted a sip, all you had to do is ask. I’ve seen how you keep eyeing my flask.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “Trust me, amatus, your flask is the last thing I keep eyeing.”

“Yeah, amatusss, your ‘flask’ is the last thing he’s been eyeing,” Sera snickered from the next horse over. “The first thing he’s been eyeing is your—”

“Sera,” Dorian hissed in warning. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare.”

“What? I was only going to say his arse.”

Dorian turned to glare at her, outrage writ all over his face. Sera burst out in wicked, high pitched laughter that made several of the weary travellers that were trailing alongside them on the Highway stop and gawk at them. Tristan bit his lip down hard to stop himself from laughing as well, but it wasn’t long before Dorian’s murderous glare was directed at him.

“You, too?” Dorian asked him pointedly.

Tristan gave him an apologetic little smile, still trying to stop himself from following Sera’s example, who seemed incredibly amused at having riled Dorian. “I mean,” he said in a strained voice, trying his best to keep a straight face, “she’s probably right. You’re not very subtle.”

Dorian clicked his tongue and punched him lightly on the shoulder, just as Sera slapped her thigh and cackled even more loudly. She laughed until her brown gelding whinnied in protest to her jerky movements and tossed its head back, causing Sera to almost lose her balance.

Dorian sniffed in disdain, then kicked his horse forward, his back straight and his head held high in defiance.

“Oh, come on—” Tristan laughed, following him with Almond. “It was just a joke!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Sera cackled after them both. “I call them like I see them!”

“Not listening!” Dorian replied with a wave of his hand, his golden rings glittering in the disappearing evening light.

From atop his horse, Iron Bull let out a deep, throaty chuckle. He stood almost two heads taller than everyone else, sitting tall and straight on the enormous draft horse Master Dennet had managed to find for him. It was a tough and calm mount, slow but sure footed, meant to draw carriages and plough carts rather than being ridden, but there had been no other horse suitable for the large Qunari.

It’s no Asaarash,  Iron Bull had said when he saw it, but it will have to do. Better than my own legs could, anyhow.

“With all the racket you three keep making," he said, "I’m surprised no Freemen have come crawling out of their hideouts to attack us. I would kill for some entertainment right now.” He winked at Solas, who was riding beside him on his chestnut coloured hart, “Get it, Solas? Kill for entertainment?”

Solas let out a small, exasperated sigh. “Yes, I do get it, Iron Bull. Unfortunately, the jest continues to be lost on me, as it has been the last five times you said it.”

“Ah, that’s ‘cause none of you can appreciate a good joke,” Bull laughed with a dismissive wave. “I tell you, those guys are just hiding in the bushes, waiting for us to lower our guard.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Want to bet on it?” Bull grinned.

Solas only frowned and looked ahead of him.

After this, they rode for a while in blissful silence, with Dorian’s annoyed pout relenting only after Tristan promised not to tease him again, then proceeded to peel an apple for him and carve it in the shape of a duck with one of his sharpest knives. It didn't look particularly good, but the apple was still sweet and crisp, and a soft blush had crept up Dorian's cheeks when he'd accepted it, so Tristan couldn't complain much.

Darkness fell all around them, and with it heavy clouds gathered overhead and a thick layer of mist covered the earth. The terrain changed slowly and steadily, with the tall grasses giving way to small thickets dispersed through the expansive land, and the flat plains rising in low, rolling hills. The air was so thick and humid that it made Tristan’s clothes stick to his skin, and the horses’ movements slow and sluggish. It wasn’t long before a droplet fell on his head, then another. Soon, raindrops were gliding past Tristan’s collar and the openings of his boots, warm like sweat.

“We’ll need to find shelter soon,” Tristan told them all, squinting in the half dark. The people travelling alongside them had dispersed with the approaching dusk and the rain, until it was just the five of them on the wide, hard packed dirt road. They should have reached the Inquisition outpost close to Verchiel a good two hours before, but the barricade that had been set up by Celene's soldiers at the Fleurcolline passage had greatly delayed them. Now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, and with not much hope of reaching the outpost until dawn came.

“We can’t ride for long in this weather," Tristan said, gathering his coat around him, "and it’s dangerous to travel after dark.”

The rest of his party didn’t seem overly pleased to continue travelling like this either, with Dorian muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped himself in his leather overcoat, and Sera’s gelding tossing its head back in annoyance whenever the elf fidgeted on the saddle, which was a near constant occurrence. Bull and Solas seemed far less perturbed by the foul weather, yet no less tired.

“Shall we set up camp?” Solas asked, looking around.

“If you can find a decent spot,” Tristan grumbled. There was open space all around them, with only a few thickets of miserable trees that would probably not provide any shelter from the rain. The ground, too, was covered in mud, and he didn’t relish the notion of sleeping in a soddy tent, or having a miserable dinner of hardtack and cold cheese. Even Dorian’s and Solas’ magic couldn’t keep a fire going for long if there was no dry wood to be found.  

He let his gaze wander off into the distance, and was rewarded when he saw flickering lights, not too far ahead. A glance at his map confirmed his hopes; there was a small town nearby, one that the agents of the Inquisition they had last met had said was amongst the last standing this side of Orlais.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Sera asked when Tristan drew all of their attention to the village. “On we go, chop chop! Been dying for a mug of ale for hours.”

Solas glanced at the lights warily. “Do you know who is in charge of this town?”

“No one, as far as the scouts knew,” Tristan answered. Horville, as the place was called, used to be a crossroads town, meant for merchant caravans to stop and rest their horses and riders. Most of the buildings were inns and shops, with only a few houses for the people who worked there. After the war had broken out, it had been primarily frequented by the infantry and cavalry divisions that crossed the plains from time to time, staying only for a short while before moving on to the next post. It had been intentionally kept as a neutral ground of sorts, with no one army claiming ownership over the small town and its businesses.

Solas’ expression darkened. “No one that we can see, perhaps.”

Tristan considered Solas’ words for a few moments. Perhaps it was somewhat reckless to walk into a town that they knew so little about, but in the end his hunger and exhaustion seemed to overcome his suspicions. Dorian and Sera were none too quick to agree when he suggested they all ride to the small town in search of an inn to spend the night. No matter who was in charge of the village, they would hardly deny some weary travellers some rest, especially those with coin to spend. Right?

“Who are you, and what business have you?”

The guard standing behind the oak and iron-wrought gate had a gruff voice and an ever gruffer appearance, only partially illuminated by the lamp he held before his face. It was half hidden by his dark hood, but Tristan could still see the unkempt beard and the pock marks on his cheeks. Despite his rough appearance though, his cloak seemed sturdy and well made, and the leather handle of his sword hilt freshly worked. Business was going well in Horville, it seemed.

Tristan pushed his own hood back, and in his best Orlesian, he said, “We’re travellers, looking for shelter from this rain. A warm meal, too, and some drink to wash it down. Are you not going to let us in?”

The man squinted at them. “Don’t get many travellers like yourselves around these parts. Not anymore.”

“It appears you have now.” He let his lips curl in a cold smile, willfully ignoring the man’s hand that was already straying to his sword. His own hand slithered within the folds of his coat, pulling out his coin purse. “We’re not going to be any trouble. I assure you.”

The gold coin that Tristan tossed in his direction flipped in a small arc, catching the light of the lamp before it was snatched in the air by the guard’s practiced hand. The man’s beady black eyes widened when he beheld the coin, then his gaze flicked to each one of them in turn. After a few brief moments of intense scrutiny, he sniffed and jerked his head to the side, signalling for the men behind the gates to let them in.

“Keep an eye on your beast,” he said gruffly as their horses passed him by, shooting a baleful look at the Iron Bull’s horns. Tristan turned to glare at him, but the man only sniffed again and spat on the ground.

“Sour tit,” Sera mumbled under her breath, glaring daggers at the man over her shoulder. “Should have looked at his own ugly mug.”

“Pay him no mind, Bull,” Tristan told the Qunari in a low voice as he led his horse down the narrow cobblestone street. “Most of these people have never seen a Qunari before in their lives.”

“No worries, Boss,” Bull said, his lips widening in his usual, easy smile. “I’ve heard worse while sparring with the boys. These guys have probably seen their share of trouble. Can’t blame them for being cautious.”

Read the rest on AO3!

[solartranslations]

AF2 Luca Chapter 4 (12/28): Strong-Willed Silhouette

Even if they feel lost now, nothing will change. Map in hand, they take their first step…

~*Scene: Nordia Harbor*~

Luca: Ah Ojou-sama, not that way

Felicita: Huh? But the map says the bar is…

Luca: That route is the long way. So we’ll go this way

Felicita: How are you so familiar with Nordia, Luca?

Luca: Did I not mention it to you, Ojou-sama? I’ve been to Nordia many times before

Felicita: You didn’t

Luca: Regalo has diplomatic relations with Nordia, after all. I’ve met Sera before too

Felicita: Oh…?

Luca: Well, he might not remember though… I think he was 3 or 4 at the time

Felicita: Are you close with Agata too?

Luca: Yes. Besides Papa and Mama, Agata is an old friend to Debito, Pace, and Nova too

Luca: What was your impression of her, Ojou-sama?

Felicita: …She’s strong. I think I like her

Luca: She’s a wonderful woman. I think she’s someone you could learn a lot from, Ojou-sama

Felicita: …

Luca: ? Is something wrong, Ojou-sama?

Felicita: I was just thinking that you speak very highly of Agata

Luca: Yes…it’s good for you to have more role models aside from Mama, so of course I’d talk about her a lot

Felicita: Hm…

Felicita: It just makes me feel strange…

Luca: If it’s not jealousy…is it more a feeling of uneasiness?

Felicita: …… Yeah

Luca: Don’t look at me like that just because I guess right!

Felicita: It’s not fair that you can read me so easily…

Luca: I’ve always been with you, so of course I can tell

Felicita: But I can’t tell unless I use the Lovers…it’s frustrating

Luca: I guess you might have started relying on that without realizing it

Luca: You did train in using those powers since you needed them for the Arcana Duello

Luca: Rely on special powers like that causes you to neglect using your natural skills…I suppose

Felicita: Will I be able to understand you like you understand me someday?

Luca: Yes, I’m sure you will. So…

Luca: Please don’t look so sad, okay?

Felicita: …Okay

Luca: Besides, if there wasn’t one thing that I was better at than you, I might be seen as unworthy of you and we’d be forced apart

Felicita: ……

Luca: And if I heard you say that I didn’t understand a thing about you, I’d feel miserable

Felicita: ……You’re serious about that

Luca: Of course. It’s my way of trying my hardest to be loved by you!

Felicita: …Dummy…

Felicita: But Luca, I feel like you’ve always been popular with women

Luca: That, I think is because they see me more as a fellow housekeeper than a man per say

Felicita: *laugh*

Luca: Seeing that cheer you up is a little depressing for me though

(*growl) Felicita: Wha!

Luca: Food always helps when you’re sad, right?

>I want to check out the shops

(No Amore)

>I’m hungry

(+10 Amore)

Luca: That sounds nice too!

Luca: Alright. Let’s find a shop with lots of clothes that you’ll end up wanting!

Felicita: It’s not like I wanted to buy clothes…

Luca: You don’t have to buy them, trying things on is free!

Felicita: Isn’t it just that you want to dress me up?

Luca: See, Ojou-sama! You knew exactly what I was thinking without using the Lovers!

Felicita: I…guess

Luca: I’m kidding! During Natale, I wish we could have gone out together to buy presents

Luca: So we can make up for that now

Luca: Alright. Then we’ll head to the bar as planned. Trying some of Nordia’s specialties might be nice

Felicita: You know about Nordia food too?

Luca: Yes, of course. I know exactly the kind of food that you’ll like!

Felicita: I’m excited then

Luca: Not that it could beat my cooking though, right?

Luca: We’ll eat to make up for the time we couldn’t spend alone together

Luca: It’s my Natale gift to you

Felicita: Luca…

Luca: It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as it will make you smile…okay?

Felicita: Yeah, thank you

Luca: Ojou-sama!?

Felicita: It’s my gift to you. I did go shopping with Neve for one, but since I already gave you a ring for your birthday, I thought this would be better

Felicita: I needed courage to give you this one though

Luca: Ojou-sama…!

Felicita: Can we hold hands?

Luca: Yes!

~*Scene: VF Deck*~

Ash: …Why’d you suddenly want to see me? Weren’t you with Strawberry Head today?

Luca:,/b> It’s something I don’t want Ojou-sama to hear

Ash: Should you two really be keeping secrets from each other?

Luca: This isn’t the time for jokes, Ash. You know what this is about. You heard from Jolly, right?

Ash: …You mean Sumire’s bruise?

Luca: Yes. I believe only you, myself, and Jolly have noticed what’s happening with it…

Ash: A spotted bruise the same color as her stigmata…I have a bad feeling about it

Luca: I thought there might have been poison on the knife Neve used, but there’s no evidence to support that theory

Ash: I think we can assume that bruise was unrelated to what happened

Luca: …It would have been better if it was…

Ash: Huh?

Luca: It’s nothing. But then we have to assume that the Tarocco is related to it in some way

Luca: …Ever since Mama came back from her trip with Papa, she hasn’t been feeling well

Ash: Why didn’t you say something?

Luca: Mama said not to since she didn’t want anyone to worry

Luca: And her symptoms were getting better, so I never did say. It was my misjudgment

Luca: She said she was just feeling tired all the time, so I tried formulating some herbal medicine but…

Luca: If it was actually weakness from her life force being drained, it would make sense

Ash: So…there’s nothing wrong with Strawberry Head?

Luca: With Ojou-sama? Not that I’ve heard…why?

Ash: She’s Sumire’s daughter. If the mother is showing symptoms…then it’s natural to think her daughter might too

Luca: …I’ll check discreetly

Ash: You’re not telling her about Sumire?

Luca: Nothing’s certain yet

Luca: I just don’t want to worry her too much

Ash: Sure, right. Not my problem if you two get into a fight again

Luca: …Are you jealous?

Ash: Don’t be dumb

Luca: Besides that, Jolly said that we should keep this between us in the meantime, right?

Ash: Yeah, he did

Luca: Then please keep him updated

Ash: …Yeah, I will

Luca: [It seems unlikely that the Tarocco isn’t the cause of this…]

Luca: [And if it is the Tarocco, then someday Ojou-sama will also…]

~*End of Scene*~

(Continue to Common Event)

(Back to Directory)

[dragonagecompanions]

hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.

Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.

No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.

(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)

Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and.. 

It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.

Keeps the ink from freezing.

Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux,  some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table. 

It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.

Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.

And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some. 

And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own. 

Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.

She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.

That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals. 

Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!

She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.

Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.

So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him. 

It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night. 

The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was  Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better. 

Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.

Good times. 

Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!

Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven  three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value. 

And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young  Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.

Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.

The second the herald starts making  Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.

Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it. 

Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.

-- Mod Fereldone

[fascination-street-writing]

Stationary Traveler | Chapter I | Prosciutto x F!Reader

In which Prosciutto enlists the aid of a waitress to fulfill a hit placed on two former members of Passione.

Chapter Content Warnings: Smoking & Alcohol Consumption

“How long do I have?”

“One month.”

Prosciutto lifts the blazing cigarette to his lips and nods. Smoke fills the cavities of his lungs and pockets in his mouth. It permeates through the room. Flipping the filter in his grasp, he offers the cigarette to Risotto. Contemplation flashes across his red eyes, yet he does not take it. Prosciutto knows better than to press the matter.

Instead, Risotto thumbs through the dossier atop the desk. Reports and photographs adorn the pages, crudely stamped into place by wired paperclips and transparent tape. “You’re going to Calabria,” the silver-haired man states. “They bled Volpe dry before they fled. But they were sloppy and got caught selling the Boss’s own product outside of his territory.”

They – the targets: Caponata and Tortano.

“They left a trail,” Prosciutto comments, bleakly.

“Indeed, and it turned cold in Calabria two months ago – Tropea, specifically. But we know that they’re still there. Passione has no reach in Vibo Valentia: that territory still belongs to one of the remaining families from La ‘Ndrangheta. There’s a man who owns a restaurant in Tropea. His name is Ditalini Mina. He orchestrates a narcotics ring there, and he pays Passione directly for protection.”

Prosciutto stubs his spent cigarette against the crystalline ashtray. “And?”

“Caponata came to Ditalini,” Risotto says. “And Ditalini sold him out – but he doesn’t know this. You need to get to Ditalini, though he won’t speak to you; it won’t matter to him whether you are from Passione or not. Know this: the Boss has specified that the restaurant owner should not to be harmed. Unless, of course, you find out that he has been in fact aided Caponata.”

“You want me to kill him if he betrayed the Boss,” Prosciutto repeats. “I’m assuming I won’t be compensated any more for this. Why bother?”

Risotto says nothing of the backhanded comment. He points to the roster of Ditalini’s employees. A stack of photograph makes for supplementary viewing. “I recommend that you acquaint yourself with one of his staff – find out what they know before taking matters into your own hands. It might help you to avoid unneeded attention, should you find that the man is working for Caponata.”

The photographs shift as Prosciutto lays them out before him. He notes that only two women work for the man: Farinata Pavone and [Y/N] Una. Either of them will suffice. In his experience, he has found that the lips of a target are easily loosened by expensive gifts or sex. It is a horrible thing to do, using someone like that, and one that he reserves as a last-resort option.

“Ditalini frequents Di Maccu several times a week. But he never goes alone. Perhaps you should start there.”

With a sharp nod, Prosciutto closes the dossier and tucks it betwixt his arm and torso. His evening will be spent pouring over its contents, committing every face and every name to memory. “When do I leave?” he finally asks.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Prosciutto sighs. He cares little for unnecessarily arduous contracts, and this is no exception – he is paid to take lives, not to play detective. Yet, he is grateful for the work.

“I suppose I better start packing then,” he concludes with a sigh. After all, this job has never been easy.

The air within Di Maccu smells faintly of cinnamon and bergamot, courtesy of the incense burning atop the mantle of the sealed fireplace. An English song echoes through the speakers. The words are foreign to many of the bar’s occupants; yet this has never stopped the younger crowds from swaying in their seats as they upheld conversations amongst each other.

For un mercoledì sera, the bar is considerably full. The table nearest to the front door is occupied by three employees from the restaurant Il Basilico Sospeso: Farinata, a waitress and woman of twenty-six with a deep affinity for clubbing; Pandoro, a line cook who had first been hired as a young boy assigned to washing dishes; and the owner Ditalini Mina, an older man who colors the silver steaks in his greying hair with gawdy black dye like epoxy paint.

As she lowers the martini, Farinata’s voice slips from her mouth in chorus to the young pop-star’s ballad. In the waitress’s state of unassuming lucidity, she effortlessly slips into the foreign language of the singer and hums along.

Ditalini smirks over the rim of his frosted pint glass. Pandoro releases a cloud of white smoke into the air before offering his cigarette to the singing woman. She plucks it from his fingers with greed. Her red lipstick stains the wax paper. Ditalini taps the face of his studded watch. “What’s taking her so long?” he asks, his speech cutting above the music.

Farinata shrugs and flicks ashes away from the smoldering cigarette. “Maybe she died,” she says in a tone that might suggest that she is only joking. “I’ll text her.”

Pandoro leans back in his chair and points towards the window that hangs above their table. “No need,” he insists. “Here she comes now.”

The door opens, sending a ring through the cramped bar as the bell above the arch jingles. Several patrons turn to observe you – the new customer – but mostly everyone else remains focused on their own drinks. Hair sticks to your face, plastered by a light sheen of sweat. You slump down in the unoccupied chair across from Ditalini. Your coworkers gawk at you with grins. You wonder if Pandoro knows that his bottom row of teeth is filled with rot.

“Took you long enough!” Farinata berates.  She holds the cigarette out to you, which you promptly refuse and instead move to fix your own hair via the guidance of your reflection in the window.

“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, digging through your purse for your money and photo identification card. “Trish needed help with her book report.”

“A book report?” Pandoro snorts. “This late in the evening?”

“Did I mention how it’s due tomorrow morning and she waited until tonight to start it?”

Ditalini brushes away fallen cigarette ashes with the back of his hand. “Well, you sister set you an hour back,” he chortles. “You have a lot of catching up to do – go on, get your drink. We’re not going anywhere.”

You do not need to be told twice. The sound of your kitten heels clacking off the brick floors is lost to the thrum of laughter and music. The line at the end of the bar is wrapped all the way back to the jukebox. The only empty barstool is the second one from the rightmost end, nearest the line, and is sandwiched between two men. The first man strikes up a conversation with the woman to his left – who, you think, is admittedly too pretty for him. The second man stares at the bottles of fruit-flavored rums straight ahead of him. You cannot help but to notice his peculiarly styled hair, held in place by four vertically braided buns at the back of his blonde head.

You weigh your options and decide that you do not have the patience (for it never has been a virtue of yours) to stand in the line. So, you settle for the barstool. It creaks beneath your weight and scuttles against the floor. The bartender – aptly Maccu himself – takes your awaiting identification card. His trained eyes scan over the finest details of lamination and creasing. Satisfied that you are of the legal drinking age, he returns the card and places a cork coaster before you.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“A vodka cranberry, per favore.”

“Lime?”

“Sì, grazie.”

“Any preference for your vodka?”

You clutch the wad of cash in your hand. “Whatever’s cheapest,” you specify.

“Make it a Grey Goose.” Maccu’s head snaps in the direction of the raspy tone belonging to the blonde man seated next to you; the man’s interjection has surprised you both. “Put it on my tab.”

With a quick smile, the bartender reaches for the top-self liquors. “Thank you,” you tell the man beside you. “But you didn’t need to do that.”

"Forgive my intrusion. It’s just that you look like someone who’s had a difficult day,” he nonchalantly insists, as if it is his custom to buy expensive drinks for strangers. You take note of your appearance in the wall mirror; its honesty is frightening compared to the sight that greeted you in the window. You swipe the back of your hand across your puffed, swollen eyes – you have bled your makeup dry. “None of that cheap American shit is going to make you feel any better. In fact, I would hardly call it vodka.”

You humor him: “That’s an astute observation. My mother isn’t doing well – that’s all.”

He hums to himself and returns to the bourbon that has been watered down by the melting block of ice. Despite his initial cordiality, he has made it painfully obvious that he does not genuinely wish to hold a conversation with you. Perhaps it is because of the bombshell you have only just dropped – perhaps you have killed the mood.

You were not late this evening because of Trish’s procrastination over a school assignment; in truth, there is no book report either. Your tardiness could only be blamed by an urgent phone call from your mother’s doctor. It is a challenge in and of itself to face your coworkers (whom you do not entirely care for) when you have just been told that your mother is dying.

Maccu places your purple drink atop the coaster. You thank him and squeeze the lime into the glass. Loosened seeds filter past the floating ice cubes and settle at the bottom of the glass like sediment. Your mother may be close to death’s door, but you deserve a night out nonetheless; Trish herself had insisted it.

You turn to the blonde man. “My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He looks up from his drink and offers his name with a faint smirk: “Prosciutto.”

You take a sip of your beverage and wince at the chill that bites at your teeth. Though your coworkers are waiting for your return, you refuse to go back. Considering your circumstances, it is not the best night to put up with Farinata’s drunken clinginess or Pandoro’s eccentricities, or to mask your annoyances with geniality.

This goes without saying that Ditalini brings about an entirely new level of discomfort for you; he unnerves you to your very core. You have worked for him for months now, and still that feeling of anxiousness gnaws at you every time you see him. In the beginning, it had been the intimidation – that he is your boss and you a new employee with limited work experience. He never hesitated to reprimand you in front of the others whenever you over-poured liquor or lost track of the rotation. But you were quick to learn. You had to be.

Ditalini has high expectations, and waitstaff is expendable.

You remember the night of the incident too clearly. You were leaving for the evening, and you used the backdoor that lead to the parking lot to exit the restaurant. And there, just before the dumpsters, stood your boss and a customer. You recognized the latter as one of your own patrons, and he had left you a sizeable tip. He held an oddly shaped parcel in his hands. Ditalini paged through a booklet of money. You had not meant for them to see you.

Ditalini’s reaction to your unwarranted intrusion had consisted only of a simple wave and a toothy grin. Among many things, you like to think that you are not a terribly ignorant person. It is not exactly a secret to the locals of Tropea that Ditalini had come from old mafia family roots, or that he used Il Basilico Sospeso as his own money-laundering scapegoat. The restaurant simply could not get by on selling underpriced beers and antipasto platters alone. You often wonder whether cocaine sales are tax deductible or not.

The very next day, Ditalini had pulled you into his office and ushered you to sit in the armchair across from his oak desk. The leather crinkled upon contact, contorting like the skin of a spoiled plum. You felt as if you were in a doctor’s office, under the scrutiny of a specialist; your boss certainly watched you the same way as your former family practitioner. You were prepared to be fired or shot in the head. Instead, Ditalini merely requested that you accompany him and the others on their weekly sojourns to Di Maccu.

You were quick to suspect the man’s ulterior motives: he sought to placate your silence with a false sense of comradery.

Downing the rest of your drink, you glance over at the table. Ditalini peers at you and rolls his emptied glass in the air as if he is contemplating another round. You turn away with a shudder. Regret is a familiar friend – you chastise yourself for finally caving into his request. You set your finished glass on the coaster. The man, Prosciutto has downed his bourbon as well. He places a hand inside his dark blue suit jacket; the sleeve shimmies up his arm just enough to reveal a silver-plated wristwatch. The corner of an MS cigarette carton pokes through his inner jacket pocket.

“Do you smoke?” he suddenly asks you.

Your eyes meet his steel-blue gaze. You think, as you take in his composed appearance, that he looks out of place in this bar. An expertly tailored suit and a large gold pendant hanging from his neck – not to mention his wristwatch – are not part of the typical uniform of the usual crowd. Di Maccu is certainly not the glitzy cocktail bar that would otherwise compliment Prosciutto’s fashion choices. He cocks a blonde eyebrow at you; you realize that your hesitation to respond has irked him.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Even his cigarettes are expensive.

He nods before resting his coaster on top of his bourbon glass. His form disappears as he slips through the backdoor and into the parking lot. Before he slipped away, you noticed a silver-plated lighter in his hand. It matches his wristwatch.

There is no policy that prohibits smoking inside of Maccu’s bar. Farinata and Pandoro have already demonstrated that. And yet, the handsome blonde stranger dubbed Prosciutto took himself outside to do it. Perhaps his decision was made of respect – otherwise, it came from an unspoken desire to escape from the noise confined within the bar’s walls.

Maccu comes by to collect your empty glass. “How much was my drink?” you ask him.

“13,000 lire.”

You count the proper amount and tuck it beneath Prosciutto’s cup. While you appreciate his gesture of goodwill, you cannot allow him to pay for your drink. You know well enough that a stranger in a bar would only do such a thing if he was looking for a quickie in the bathroom. Tonight is not the night for that.

Your purse begins to vibrate. You sort through discarded gum wrappers and dried mascara cartilages to find your cell phone. The bright green light of its face glares up at you

Trish – 2 New Messages:

            can u come home

            please i dont want 2 b alone

Ditalini stops you at the door. His hand rests on your bare shoulder, his skin calloused like sandpaper. You tug away from him, cautious not to draw attention from your other coworkers. “Is everything alright, bella?” he questions; the slur of his speech implies his intoxication, as if you could not already detect it on his breath.

You nod fervently and clutch your purse. “Trish needs my help again, that’s all,” you tell him. You feign disappointment. This seems to please him. “So, I’m heading home.”

“Would you like me to drive you? It’s late, you know.”

“No, grazie però.” You reply too hastily, but he does not notice the inflection. “I don’t live too far from here.”

And you are gone before he can protest.

| 2688 Words |

* Please note that future chapters will only be posted to Ao3 - you can find the link to my profile under my navigation tab

[flowercrown-bard]

Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky

part 1  part 2  part 3  part 4 belongs to this

The trembling notes of a lute drifted through the air, unsure, faltering. Yet brimming with the energy only a bard ready to take on the world could have.

A sharp twang, as fingers missed the correct string.

“No, love, like this.” Jaskier said gently, followed by the chords as it should have sounded.

Geralt’s brows knitted together, as he entered the cottage, exhausted from the day’s ride that had been hard and fast in Geralt’s eagerness to get home to Jaskier as early as possible.

Another missed chord, as the young woman sitting next to Jaskier startled at the sight of Geralt. He nodded at her in passing, but his eyes were on Jaskier’s smile, when he got up and crossed the room to embrace Geralt.

“Geralt, you’re back!” Jaskier’s embrace grew tighter, before he pulled back, looking Geralt over for injuries like he always did. Wrinkled fingers brushed a strand of hair out of Geralt’s face, as Jaskier looked at him critically, before nodding in satisfaction. “Handsome as ever.”

“What a generous verdict.”

“You’re not going to say it back?” Jaskier asked with mock offence, playfully hitting Geralt’s chest.

Geralt’s eyes darted over to the women, who was pointedly looking at the old lute in her lap, but risking what were probably meant to be subtle looks of curiosity at them.

Jaskier followed his eyes and smiled sheepishly.

“This is Sera.” At the mention of her name, the woman gave up the pretence of looking like she was busy and gave a small wave. Geralt looked at her more closely. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on where exactly he had seen her before. “I am giving her lessons.”

“I want to be a bard like Jaskier some day.” Sera perked up and Geralt could detect a hint of insecurity in her voice, though the determination overshadowed it.

Geralt shot her a look that probably only Jaskier could recognise as a grin. “A word of advice: learn how to climb out of windows.” He ignored Jaskier’s snort. “If you’ll become anything like Jaskier, you’ll need it.”

Jaskier nudged him in the ribs. “Or you could just find yourself a witcher who can take care of any arising problems for you.”

He even had the audacity to throw a wink in there for good measure. Geralt had to look down to hide the smile that was threatening to show. Out of all the things old age had already claimed, Jaskier’s ability to slip an innuendo into a perfectly innocent conversation was one talent Jaskier held onto with stubborn pride. Geralt wouldn’t have it any other way.

Contrary to Geralt, Sera didn’t hide her reaction. She openly snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her fingers twitched on the lute in her arms. “But maybe I’ll just stick to the music lessons for now.”

“Right!” Jaskier clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly, before he halted and shot Geralt a worried look. “You don’t mind, do you, dearest? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. Of course, I understand if you want your peace. We could just go somewhere else for the rest of the lesson.”

He tilted his head in question and Geralt felt unexpectedly sheepish. The tips of his fingers rubbed together, a gesture that hadn’t always belonged to him.

“Actually,” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if I could listen to you.”

Jaskier brightened at his words. “That is a wonderful idea! Sera, do you mind?”

She shook her head with a lopsided grin. “I’m already used to singing for an audience.” She paused. “Though I must warn you, I am relatively new to playing the lute.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier waved her off. “Here’s a lesson for you: Being humble is a virtue, but not one suitable for a bard. Never sell yourself short.”

A laugh escaped Geralt. “A lesson you yourself really took to heart.”

“Naturally. There is a difference between knowing your limits and selling yourself short. And Sera here,” he pointed a finger at her. “has been taken lessons from me for weeks now, whenever you are away.” Something in Geralt sagged in relief, knowing that Jaskier wasn’t alone and restless while he wasn’t around. “She is good. I would be disappointed in my teaching qualities if it were any different.”

A thin blush crept across Sera’s face. “Alright then. I am good. Should we continue?”

At Jaskier’s nod, she stuck up the song she’d been playing before again. While Jaskier corrected her finger placement, Geralt sat himself down in a corner, eyes fixed on Jaskier’s stern but gentle expression when he gave instructions.

His chest felt warm and he was sure if Sera had looked up she would have seen a fond look that normally Jaskier was the only witness to. Geralt’s didn’t care enough to keep it off his face. It had been too long ago when Jaskier had given up his teaching position in Oxenfurt. He had loved it, but “the life in the road is far more interesting. It’s calling out to me!”.

Their small living room was no substitute for a lecture hall, but It was good that at least Jaskier still had this. As much as Jaskier had always talked about Geralt being an inspiration for him and that it would be a shame to let that inspiration go to waste, the same could be said about Jaskier. Geralt couldn’t count the myriad of bright-eyed bards now roaming the continent solely because Jaskier’s tales and teachings had inspired them. They had all looked up to him, just as Sera now looked at him with unabashed admiration.

Jaskier must have given her a sign Geralt had missed, or maybe Sera’s confidence had taken hold of her, for the next time she strummed a chord, it was accompanied by a clear voice.

Geralt’s eyes snapped to her. So that’s where he knew her from. Her voice, now weaving words about sea faring, lighthouses and storms had rung through a tavern, confident and a little drunk, singing sea shanties and folk songs while Jaskier had told him he wasn’t fit to sing anymore.

“She’s better than me,” Jaskier had said back then and though Geralt still didn’t believe that was true, his heart clenched sweetly at Jaskier’s shining eyes when he saw his young student move transition to the next verse. Sera wasn’t a better bard than Jaskier. She was hardly even a bard at all. But now, watching her close her eyes and sing about a traveller seeing far-off places and experiencing all the wonders of the world, Geralt could see what Jaskier saw her. Despite Sera’s brown eyes, it was hard not to see the young bard, blue eyes filled with wonder and hunger for the world, that had approached Geralt in Posada in her.

Far too quickly, the lesson was over. Sera left with rosy cheeks and a tired but ambitious look in her eyes, leaving Geralt and Jaskier alone in their home.

“That wasn’t one of your songs,” Geralt said at long last.

Jaskier huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “I am not that self-absorbed to only teach my students how to play my own songs.”

“You absolutely did while I was away, didn’t you?” Geralt deadpanned.

Jaskier threw his head back laughing and held his hands ups in surrender. “Naturally, I did. You know me too well.”

Never too well. There wasn’t a single facet of Jaskier that Geralt didn’t wish to know.

Jaskier clenched his fingers, stiff from demonstrating chords for hours, before coming over to sit by Geralt’s side. “It was her own song. Truth be told, I don’t think the lute is right for Sera, but it is the only instrument she owns and she needs to be able to play at least one original composition on an instrument if she wants to apply to Oxenfurt.”

“She wants to leave?”

“Don’t all bards?”

“Do you?”

Jaskier was quiet for a while, only absentmindedly humming the melody Sera was working on, his fingers forming the shapes of chords in the air. “It’s about returning home.” Geralt’s brows drew together and Jaskier clarified. “Her song. It’s about coming home. We’re working on it together. Sera is a bright student, but she doesn’t know much about the feeling she wants to convey in her songs.”

“I thought it sounded rather well. A bit like yours when you wrote about a hunt.”

A smile tugged at Jaskier’s lips and he scooted a bit away so as to better look at Geralt. The position was painfully, beautifully familiar. It was the same position Jaskier always took, when talking his own writing process over with Geralt. The way his hands waved through the air, as if it would make it easier for Geralt to understand the intricacies of chord-progressions or rhyme schemes, was the same. Sera might never become better than Jaskier, but Jaskier cared so much about her and her song, it was impossible for Geralt not to do so too.

“Ah, but here’s the problem,” Jaskier said. “She doesn’t want to write about adventures. That’s not what the song is about. Not really. That’s what she wants to experience herself, but the song isn’t about her.”

“And she needs you to tell her what it feels like to want a home?”

Fingers brushed against his hand. Geralt twisted his hand to interlace them with his. Jaskier gave him no answer, and Geralt had no need for one.

The sun had already begun to set when Jaskier got a strange look in his eyes. Geralt’s hand followed his unbidden, when Jaskier pulled away.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier didn’t look back to him over his shoulder, instead rummaging through a drawer. “I need paper. And a quill.”

“Been struck by inspiration for a new song?” How he hoped that was it. He was yearning for Jaskier to talk about his own compositions the same way he talked about Sera’s, with the same joy and knowledge that he was still creating. That he was still here.

“Something like that.”

Barely supressed sounds of frustration left Jaskier, when he came up empty.

Geralt hummed in thought. “I think you used the last one on the letter to my brothers.”

“Oh.”

Something tugged at Geralt’s heart at the small sound. “Do you regret it?”

“Writing letters?” Jaskier sounded so incredulous that the brewing tempest in Geralt’s chest calmed. “Never.”

“I could buy a notebook for you,” Geralt said when they were nestled together in bed at the end of the day, the frustration having ebbed away from Jaskier, though his fingers were still twitching with the need to write down whatever it was that was coming to life in his head. “Tomorrow, when I go to the market again.”

Jaskier pulled himself closer against Geralt, tugging his head under Geralt’s chin. “You are a darling.”

“You could tell me about your new idea now. So that you don’t forget come morning.”

“I won’t forget,” Jaskier said firmly. He was quiet for a moment and Geralt listened to his heartbeat. Steady, like the beat of a lullaby. “And it’s not time for you to know yet. I want it to be perfect.”

“You never bothered before. I have witnessed your writing process enough times not to judge you.”

“It’s not about judging me.”

“Then what is it about?”

“About you.” Jaskier lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss against Geralt’s jaw. “I’ll let you read it when it’s time. I promise.”

[rhetoricalrogue]

31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 24

Prompt: Enchantment Rating: PG-13 for language, adult-type touching, and Nicky being Nicky Words: 4,332 Characters: Nicolo and Isabela Morelli Summary: This reunion isn’t going quite the way Nicky planned.

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

His daughter had kept in touch with him far more than Nicky ever thought he deserved.  It was strange, but not in a bad way, to receive texts from her or to be on the phone for hours on end, listening as she filled him in on the life he had missed out on.  They’d laughed together, and on multiple occasions, cried together, but he was honored that she would so readily include him in her life.  She’d explained the reason she was still alive: she may have inherited her looks from his side of the family, but her mother’s magical abilities had carried over.  She’d laughed that when she and her mother went to restaurants without glamour, they were often mistaken for sisters, especially since Gianna had chosen to stop aging at the same age her mother had done the same.  He had wondered if Tony had inherited the same since he was slightly older in looks by a few years, but Gianna had laughed and told him that no, as someone part fey, her son’s long lifespan was tied to his father’s.  It was a lot to take in at once, but Nicky was grateful that he had this opportunity to get to know the family he hadn’t known he had better.

He’d asked Gianna to not let her mother know about him.  Part of him wanted to go to Isabela to confront her, but another part of his was afraid to.  What would they say to the other after so long apart?  What would she think of him?  They hadn’t even known the other for more than a week, what did they have in common, aside from this daughter that he hadn’t even known about?  He’d changed over the years that his life had been prolonged, he wasn’t the same person that he had been then.  Of course, the core things that made up his personality were still the same: he was as opinionated as ever and his temper still flared hot at the slightest of provocations, he still had the same sense of humor about the things he always had, and he still had the same need to wear well-tailored clothing and have the finer things in life.

He also had the same love of women that had led him to this fate, though to be fair, he had ceased any and all affairs the moment he found out that Isabela was still alive.  He still flirted, because it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t, but Nicky hadn’t acted on any of the flirtation since, especially once his daughter had told him that the magic that had kept him from true death was meant as a matrimonial bond.

Marriage.  The word was foreign to him, to be bound to one person and one person alone for the rest of his life.  He didn’t have anything against the idea, just that it was something that he never thought would apply to himself, even when he was alive.  He still didn’t know how he felt about being married without his knowledge or his consent, but he figured that now that he knew, Isabela deserved his fidelity.  He had to laugh at that.  His lack of faithfulness had been his undoing all those years ago.

Thinking back, he didn’t know why he had strayed from her and her bed.  Maybe because it had felt too right, that it had scared him to find someone that he could have easily seen himself in love with.  Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be tied down to one person that he pushed her away before more permanent ties could be made.

Or maybe, just maybe he had cheated on Isabela with another woman because he had been a feckless asshole with no real care for the feelings of the women he claimed to be fascinated with.  He was three hundred and seventy-two years old, he could call himself out on his own bullshit.

Nicky squared his shoulders and brushed invisible lint off the front of his (expensive) leather motorcycle jacket.  He stared at the little wrought iron fence that separated the charming house in front of him from the street and pushed the gate open.  The tingle of protective magic all around him made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, but he kept going, pausing with his knuckles braced at the door.

This is stupid, Morelli, he thought.  Just knock and be done with it.

It took a while, but he heard footsteps come to the door.  There was no peephole or window, and the breath that he didn’t need caught in his throat at the sight of the woman who answered it.  The glamour she wore to make herself look like an older version of herself shimmered gold over her body like a second skin before fizzling and sputtering out, leaving behind a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, dark hair curling about her elegant shoulders and skin smooth and rosy.

The rose tint that filled her cheeks with such life seemed to drain from her face as she stared at him, her beautiful eyes widening as she took him in.

“Buona sera, mia cara,” he said, giving her a wink.  “May I come in?”

Isabela slammed the door in his face.

Nicky looked at the door that had missed his nose by inches.  “Can we talk about this?”  He knocked again.

“Go away!”

“Come on, I used up all my mileage to fly out here!”  He rattled the doorknob, but found it locked, just as he expected.  “Can we at least speak like civilized people?”

“I have nothing to say to you, you pig!”  Nicky heard slamming and realized she was closing all the windows around one side of the house.  Running in the opposite direction, he rounded the corner and jumped the low spiked iron fence to the backyard.  As expected, the back door was open and the screen door was unlocked.

“Is this how you treat your husband?” he teased, eyes widening as he dodged a cast iron skillet she swung in his direction.

“Get out of my house!” She grit her teeth and swung again.  “How did you even find me?”

“It wasn’t easy!”  He dodged another hit, his feet moving backwards until she forced him out onto the back porch.  “It only took over three hundred years!”

“I thought you were dead!  You should be dead!”

He moved again.  “I am dead!  You made it so I can’t get any peace!”  Nicky let out a grunt as the skillet connected with his shoulder, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, holding it tightly and twisting in a way that wouldn’t hurt her, but would make her drop the pan.  “Now can we please talk like adults inside before your neighbors call the cops?  I don’t have much of a rap sheet, but I would like to keep domestic -” He paused as pain sparked through his body.  Looking down, he noticed that he hadn’t seen Isabela fumbling in the pocket of her dress for a knife.  A knife that was currently sticking out of his chest.  He looked at her in disbelief and she looked back, her eyes wide in fright.

“Ow,” was all he had time to say before the world went black and his body crumpled to the ground.

He didn’t know how long it had been before he came to, but he guessed it wasn’t long, judging by the slant of late afternoon sunlight coming through the kitchen window.  A shuffle of movement made him turn his head towards the sound and he found Isabela curled on the floor, her arms around her legs and her eyes staring at him.

“This was my best jacket,” he managed to say, mouth dry as it usually was when he came back to consciousness.  “I’ve been shot at, chased by things with claws in it, and the person that ruins the leather is my own wife.  Fitting.”

“I’m not your wife,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

“Tell that to your magic.”

She shook her head.  “It wasn’t supposed to work.  It shouldn’t have worked.”

Nicky grunted as he slowly sat up, one leg extended and the other brought up so he could rest his arm on his knee.  “What shouldn’t have worked?”

“The spell.  I was young, inexperienced.  I was angry.”  She sniffled.  “I didn’t mean for it to work.”

Nicky looked at her and let out a slow, low laugh.  “So you’re saying that this spell you cast on me was an accident?  Something you did in anger?”

She slapped her palms on the floor and glared at him.  “Don’t laugh at me, damn you!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed, wiping tears from his eyes as he continued to chuckle.  “You have got to admit there’s some cosmic irony going around.  It’s either laugh or scream, babe.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t left me for some...some…”  she stood up and glared.  “I can’t even describe her anymore, but the fact is that you decided that you had enough fun in my bed and wanted nothing more to do with me!”

“I was young!”

She held her hand to her chest.  “So was I!  Youth is no excuse for breaking my heart!”

He sighed and closed his eyes.  “I know that now.  You have absolutely no reason to forgive me, but I do want you to know how sorry I am for hurting you.  It was wrong of me and I apologize.”

His words seemed to take some of the wind out of her anger.  “I loved you once,” she told him, wiping at her cheek.  “I think, in a way, I love you still.”

He got up, wincing as the wound in his chest pulled his muscles tight as it continued to heal.  “You loved the idea of me, Isabela.  We barely knew the other, how can you love me?”

She narrowed her eyes as she came up to him, hand reaching out to trace the ragged hole in his once pristine leather jacket, the tips of her fingers warm against his skin.  “Soulmates exist, idiot.”  Isabela jerked back slightly when Nicky let out a barking laugh, his hand coming up to gently wrap around her wrist.

“Sounds like something my grandson told me a while ago when I first met him.”

Isabela stood straighter.  “You met Tony?”

“Oh, he was pissed at me.  Had we not been in public, I bet he would have swung at me.”

She snorted, her lip barely curling up in a smile.  “He’s a good boy, my Tony.”  She swallowed hard.  “He takes after your side of the family, you know.”

He smiled and ran his thumb against the back of her hand.  “So does Gianna.  You named her after my grandmother?”

Isabela bowed her head and swayed towards him.  It felt right to hold her close with his free arm, her head fitting in the crook of his neck as if it were made specifically for that purpose.  “You weren’t supposed to know about her.” Her hand twitched under his, fingers splaying out over his chest.  For the briefest of moments, he could have sworn his heart, rusty from disuse, had given a faint thump. “I didn’t want you to know about her.”

He looked down at her.  “Why not?”

“Because she was mine.  You already stole my heart, Nicolo, I didn’t want you to come back and take my little girl.”

“Our little girl.”  He leaned back so he could look her in the eye.  “Was that why you vanished?  Made it so hard for me to find you?”

She nodded.  “I was still so angry.  At you, for making me fall in love with you and then running off to chase the next skirt that struck your fancy. At myself, for falling in love with such a fickle man.  I wanted you to hurt as much as I hurt, so I bound you to me and disappeared.  I wanted to see how long you would search for me.  I wanted you to grovel at my door, to beg for my forgiveness.”

“May you never know the peace of the grave,” Nicky murmured.  “Do you know how long I thought that you had cursed me that night?”

She frowned.  “Like I said, I was angry.”

“Did you know,” he started, moving aside so he had some space between them.  The faint scent of roses that clung to her skin made it hard to think.  “I went back the next night?  I wanted to talk things through with you, maybe see if there was anything I could save.”  He remembered how they had parted, both of them screaming at the other and Isabela throwing a pot in his direction.  

He hadn’t been as quick then as he was now, the pot glancing off the side of his head and drawing blood.  

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged.  “Sort of couldn’t when I got caught by a hulking slab of muscle I owed money to and he stabbed me to death and left me to rot in a ditch.”  He watched as she winced, her hand going sympathetically to her throat.  “Hey, but I guess I can’t really be too mad at you, had you not cast your spell, I would have been dead a long time ago.  I would have missed out on so many things: indoor plumbing, high speed internet, fine Italian motorcycles…”

He couldn’t help but move closer to her, his fingers tipping her chin up so he could look in her eyes.  “But for all the things I got to witness, I also missed out on so much.  Getting to know you, our daughter growing up, her son growing up.  I regret missing those things.”

Isabela gave a short huff of laughter.  “That wasn’t something I was expecting to hear from you.  You were always so brash and cocky with your words.”

He grinned.  “Don’t worry, my mouth still gets me into plenty of trouble.  I’ve just had over three centuries to do some personal growth.”

“Are you angry with me?” she asked, biting at her lip.  

“I was,” he confessed.  “I was angry for the longest time.  You have no idea how long I searched for a way to end this existence I believed you’d cursed me to, how many ways I sought death, a true death, out if only to free myself from waking up whole and unscathed.”

She leaned towards him again, her eyes squeezing shut.  “What stopped you?” she whispered.

“Nothing.  I dove in the line of fire and got shot in the face last week like it was nothing, just to save one of my teammates.  They’ve helped though. Gianna told me that the two of you know about the Agency.  I’m an agent with Unit Delta.”  He tapped his chest.  “No heartbeat or heat signature makes me the ideal infiltration specialist, and I’m handy with disarming locks and security systems so the rest of my team can come in behind me.  I’ve worked with multiple groups on several occasions since joining up, but the one I’m with now, they’re like family to me.  They’re the brothers and sisters that I didn’t know I was missing until I found them, and while knowing that someday I’m going to outlive them all, they make me not want to look for that final peace as often.”

Isabela licked at her lips before nervously biting at them again.  “So, where does this leave us?”

Nicky spread his hands and gave her a look that silently told her he didn’t have a clue either.  “I don’t know.  I’ve been in contact with Gianna and she wants me in her life.  Tony’s texted me once or twice now that he’s had a chance to cool down and think about things.”  He looked at her seriously.  “I don’t want to lose contact with them now that I’ve found them.”

“I don’t want you to lose contact with them either.”  She took a hesitant step closer, reaching out for him as if she couldn’t help herself either.  “I wanted…” she took a shuddering breath and ran her hands over his jacket, fingers gripping the edges.  “I often wondered what it would have been like had we been together.  To watch Gianna grow, to see how we would have grown together.”

“And it always made you sad.”  He leaned down and brushed his nose along the side of hers. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”  Nicky didn’t know who moved first, but his lips were pressed against hers and he felt as if he were a man slowly dying of thirst suddenly being given water after years of searching for the barest drop to drink.  He inhaled sharply as her hands pulled him close, his own hands moving to her hips and lower to lift her up onto one of the kitchen countertops, which she went gladly, a moan spilling from her mouth as he left her lips to trail a hot line of kisses down to her neck.  His hands slid over her legs, the material of her dress moving up until he had it bunched at her waist.

And that’s when he realized something that broke him out of the haze he’d fallen under.  Something he hadn’t felt in centuries.  “Nicolo?”  Isabela’s lips dragged along his jaw and he groaned when she nipped at the patch of skin where his jaw met his throat.  “What is it?”

He made a strangled noise as he slipped his hands under her thighs and tipped his hips just so.  “Um, that.” he told her, mouth muffled by her shoulder, grinding against her just to check to see if he wasn’t dreaming that something that hadn’t happened in a very long time was actually happening.  For science, if you will.

She gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist.  “Yes, that,” she purred, dragging her fingers through his hair so she could kiss him again.  “It may have been a while since I’ve been with you, but I definitely remember this part.”

“No, you don’t understand, Bella.”  His hands moved upwards until he could run his thumbs against the underside of her breasts.  “I haven’t felt this for anyone.  Not since before I died that first time.”  His laugh was a little on the wild side, and he let out a curse when she used her legs to pull him tightly to her again. 

“Wait, are you telling me…”

His eyebrow arched up.  “That this is the first time my cock’s gotten up for a woman in almost four hundred years?  Yes.”

“That you’ve slept with other women?” She angrily shoved at his chest and kicked out at him, aiming for the suddenly very apparent bulge in his jeans.

Instinct had him swerving his hips out of range.  “Hey!  We broke up!  You cursed me to this half-life!”

“We were married, you jackass!  How could you run around behind my back?”

“I didn’t know that!” He eyed the skillet she had on a nearby counter and grabbed it before she could reach for it.  “You made it impossible to find you and figure out what the fuck this whole spell you put me under was!”

“Did you even try looking?”  She hopped off the counter and balled her fists at her sides.  Nicky was just grateful she hadn’t grabbed at another knife yet.

He wagged a finger at her.  “Don’t you even start.  I spent years looking for you!  When I couldn’t find you in Sicily, I moved to Italy.  When I couldn’t find you there, I went to nearby countries to look for you.  Fuck, I spent months this year alone looking for you, so don’t you bring that into this!”  He angrily gestured at his groin, the long-absent erection slowly vanishing as they yelled.  “But it doesn’t explain this!”

She had the good grace to look the tiniest bit contrite.  “So I may have cursed you a little after that last argument.”

“A little?  You call not getting this up, even with my own hand, little?”

“I was angry!  You left me for another woman, did you think I wanted you to be able to use it with anyone but me?”

“Three hundred and seventy-two years, Isabela!  And this whole time I thought it was because my heart wasn’t pumping blood to vital organs!”  He dropped the skillet onto the table in the small breakfast nook and glared.  “Why didn’t you just curse my dick to fall off while you were at it?”

“That can still be arranged!”

Nicky took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.  “Okay, so this isn’t going quite the way I had envisioned.  We need to take a step back, maybe take a breather?”

“What makes you think I want anything to do with you?”

He arched his eyebrow.  “Because you said you wanted to, like five minutes ago?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “That was then.  Now I just want you out of my house.”

“Careful, carina.  You look gorgeous when you’re angry.”  Sure that she was unarmed, he swooped in and gathered her in his arms.

“I should bite you,” she growled.

“Kinky.  I’ll file that away for future reference.”

She unfolded her arms and instead of pushing him away, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer.  “Why should I think that you’ll be faithful to me now when you weren’t faithful to me all these years?”

“Because, Isabela, I haven’t slept with a woman since finding out that you were still alive.”  He leaned down and pressed a brief peck on the tip of her nose.  “It’s been two months, it’s a record.”

Isabela made an indignant sound.  “It’s been three hundred and seventy-two years,” she replied.  “I haven’t wanted anyone else but you.”  She stretched up onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his, her body all but melting at the touch.

He reluctantly broke the kiss.  “Then I hate to make you wait another minute, however…”

“What?”

He looked down at her and cupped her cheek in his hand.  “I was a jackass who didn’t know what I had before.  I’m still a jackass, but I want to do this right.”  He leaned down and pressed the barest of kisses to her forehead.  “Let me take you out.” Another kiss, this time at her cheek.  “Treat you to dinner.” His mouth barely grazed the corner of hers.  “Take you to bed.”  His lips curled upwards into a wicked smirk when he felt the moan buzz at her throat. 

“Fine, but it better be soon,” she pouted, fingers sifting through his hair before tugging.  “As in tonight soon.”

Nicky nipped at her lips before moving away, the warmth from her body already missed.  “Ah, but my darling, I haven’t a thing to wear.”  He wiggled his fingers through the tear she had made in his shirt and his jacket.  He laughed at her frustrated growl.  “Some of us should have thought about the consequences to stabbing one’s spouse before sticking a knife in their chest.”

“If you’re just going to tease, then you can leave.”

He winked at her.  “I’m just happy that I’m able to tease.”

“Out.”  She pointed to the back door.  As if by magic - and Nicky had to laugh at that! - the screen door opened on its own accord and stayed open, waiting for him to exit the way he came.

“So, can I call you?”

“You don’t have my number.”

He fished in the jacket pocket to pull out his phone, which had miraculously been saved from the knife from earlier.  “No, but Gianna does!”  He hopped the back fence again and made his way to the front yard, whistling a jaunty tune the entire time.  He stopped when he got to the front of her house in time to see her leaning against the front door.  “You never answered me, may I call you?”

She waved her hand in the air, as if dismissing him.  “I’ll think about it.”

“You are a cruel, cruel woman.”

“And you are a rude man who thinks it’s fair to work a woman up and then leave.”  She stood there at her doorway as he walked down the street, the faintest refrain of some song she hadn’t heard in centuries carrying on the wind.  “Idiot,” she murmured, shaking her head.  She couldn’t help the smile that worked its way onto her face as she closed the door and leaned against it.  Well. That was certainly not what she expected to deal with when she woke up that morning.  Running her hand over her hair in an attempt to put it back to rights where Nicolo had mussed it, she sighed and sank down onto the living room sofa.  Reaching for the phone that was on the coffee table, she hit a pre-programmed number.

“I should be angry at you for not telling me about your father being around,” she said without preamble, listening as her daughter tried to deflect with Mama, it’s so good to hear you! “But I’m guessing that he asked you not to say a word.”  She ran a hand over her neck, shivering as she remembered how Nicolo’s lips had felt there just minutes before. 

“Give your father my phone number,” she told her, her voice clipped and fast, almost as if she were getting the words out before she thought better of it.  “And tell him I expect a phone call soon.”

With that, she hung up the phone and got up, heading to put her kitchen to rights after the love of her life had barged in and moved things around, humming that same tune of love found after years apart without even realizing it.

[songofseraphine]

Crossing Paths and Crossing Blades

Part Six of The Song of Seraphine

A/N: Hey all!  Thank you for continuing tuning in to this series. 

Part One     Part Two      Part Three       Part Four      Part Five      

Fresh air blew at the curtains making even more sunlight flood the already bright room.  Sera rolled over and buried her face in the pillows attempting to block out the light to no avail.  The door to her chambers flew open and in came a young ashen haired girl who sprinted and then dove onto Sera’s bed.  “Auntie Seraaaaaa,” she said now jumping up and down on the mattress.  “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

            Sera jokingly groaned and rolled over then pulled even more covers over her face.  The little girl crawled on top of her still form and gently pulled at the blankets, trying to uncover her face.  Sera quickly sat up and wrapped her arms around the now squealing girl.  “You have awoken the beast!  Now you shall pay,” she said while getting up on her knees.  She then tossed the little girl onto the bed and let out a laugh. 

            “No!  I will get you beast!” she said then, after gathering her senses, she drew a pretend sword from her pretend sheath and held it towards Sera.  “Ahhhh!” she screamed then dove at Sera again.

            “Oh no!  I have been slain!” said Sera while slowly sinking off the bed and onto the floor while clutching at her side. 

            Just then someone near the doorway of her chambers cleared their throat making Sera sit up straight.  When she saw that her new visitor was just her friend she relaxed a little and began to stand up.  “Ciri, what did I tell you about bothering your aunt before she has woken for the day?” she asked.  Ciri, still sitting on the bed now looking quite disheveled looked down at the ground. 

            “No worries Pavetta, I really shouldn’t be sleeping in so late anyways,” she said then glanced over at Ciri.  “The princess was just ensuring I didn’t waste an entire day in bed, isn’t that right?”

            The young princess nodded with a wide smile.  Pavetta shook her head but she was still smiling.  “You both could get away with murder, I swear of it,” she said with a lighthearted laugh. 

            Sera looked at the princess and winked, earning a laugh in return.  “Run along Ciri, I will join you for breakfast,” she said.

            “For lunch,” said Pavetta with a smirk. 

            Sera smiled at her friend and nodded.  “For lunch then, it seems I really was going to sleep the day away,” she said then watched as Ciri ran past her mother and out of her chambers.  “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said with a curtsy and a hint of sarcasm. 

            Pavetta rolled her eyes and walked further into the room.  “She adores you, you know.  Sometimes I think more than she adores me,” she said while sitting down on the edge of the mattress. 

            Sera moved over to the changing screen and began pulling on a dress that would manage for a day in the castle.  It was a simple light blue gown with a black bodice.  “That’s because I don’t make the rules, Pavetta,” she said with a grin while peeking her head out from behind the screen. 

            She heard Pavetta laugh which made her smile.  It had been nearly five years of Sera living in Cintra and she had grown accustomed to it.  Rarely ever did she find herself yearning for the old adventures of killing monsters, stories that she now told a young Ciri.  All were tales the four year old found astounding.  “You would be a great mother,” said Pavetta, making Sera laugh as she came out from behind the changing screen now fully dressed. 

            “Pavetta, we both know my desire to have a child left long before I even knew you,” she said while walking over to where she sat.  “Besides, then I wouldn’t get to be the fun one anymore,” she said with a grin. 

            “Well that makes me feel much better leaving her with you and my mother while Duny and I go overseas,” she said with sarcasm.  Sera nudged her with her elbow, not really wanting to think about her friend going away for months on end. 

            “We have some time before that, Pavetta, let’s not dwell on that now,” she said while grabbing her friends hand and pulling her to her feet.  “Now, your lovely daughter and your mother are most likely waiting for us to have their lunch.  We should join them before I get blamed for our tardiness… again.”

            They made their way out of her chambers and towards the dining hall where they would meet Calanthe and Ciri.  “Has Mousesack given you more information about your mother?” asked Pavetta.

            Sera shrugged her shoulders while looping her arm through Pavetta’s.  “Nothing more than I have already told you.  She was a sorceress that chose to live her life with a normal man, my father, instead of following other sorceresses to Aretuza,” she said as they continued walking.  She thought for a moment about the last time she spoke to Mousesack.  “He also said that he remembers seeing her again, after she had me and my sister, she came to him asking for spells,” she said with a shrug.

            “Spells?  But she wouldn’t have been able to cast them herself so why would she look for them?” she asked but Sera shrugged her shoulders again.

            “He didn’t get the chance to say.  Ciri interrupted, begging to go out and ride Vega,” she said with a grin. 

At this Pavetta rolled her eyes.  “You spoil her,” she said as they rounded the corner into the dining hall.  They both took their seats, Sera’s beside Ciri just as the little girl insisted.  They began to eat the meal that was placed in front of them in silence.  When they were finished Pavetta whisked Ciri away for her lessons for the day, leaving Sera with Calanthe. 

“My Granddaughter looks up to you, I think, more than she looks up to me or Pavetta,” she said.  She didn’t sound upset about it though, instead it sounded like a compliment.

“The princess has become very important to me, Your Majesty.  Ciri is such a headstrong girl, I think she gets that from your side,” she said making Calanthe smile.  “Honestly, I didn’t think I would end up staying in Cintra this long.  I planned on staying long enough to aid Pavetta in the birth of her child but after that I was going to return to life out there,” she said while nodding her head in the direction of the doors.  “You have all treated me with nothing but kindness from the very beginning and I am grateful for that.  I am truly indebted to you and your family, my queen.”

“Oh, dear girl,” she said as her brows furrowed.  Sera wondered why she looked so upset and why she was suddenly at a loss for words.  “Word came from your village early this morning.  I had hoped to tell you in a better way…” she began.  Sera’s heart was in her throat, knowing that whatever Calanthe had to say wasn’t good news.  Since Sera had arrived and since the fall of the old mayor, Ferdand, Calanthe had sent her men off to the little village to keep watch on the remaining branch of Sera’s family.   “Your sister is dead, it happened a few weeks ago but the word just reached us,” she said. 

The chair Sera sat in scrapped across the ground as she stood up and placed her balled fists on the table.  Her eyes brimmed with tears and she sniffled before she spoke.  “How?” she asked.  “How did my sister die?” her voice raised just a bit but she was not yelling at Calanthe.

She looked at the young women feeling guilty for having to be the bearer of bad news.  “She was killed, they did not find who did it,” she said.  Sera shoved herself back from the table and started walking out of the dining hall.  “Seraphine, where are you going?” Calanthe called after her.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” she said without stopping.  She marched all the way to her room and threw open her door then made her way to her clothing chest.  She ignored the fact that she could barely see and dug through the clothes trying to find her new riding trousers and the leather armor Pavetta and Calanthe had made for her the year before.  She didn’t bother getting behind the changing screen as she ripped the skirts and corset from her body.  When she finished pulling on her old clothes she went back to the chest to pull out her old travel bag then walked over to the chest she stored her bow, quiver and sword in. 

As she pulled on her gear the door to her room opened and Pavetta walked in with Ciri trailing behind her.  “So it is true, you are going,” she said while looking Sera up and down.  It had been a long time since Pavetta had seen her dressed like that. 

Sera looked at the floor knowing that if she looked up at her friend she would start to cry.  “I have to, Pavetta, it was my sister,” she said while glancing at Ciri who looked back at her with large bright green eyes.  Sera stepped closer to Pavetta and lowered her voice.  “I cannot let that filth of a man live while her corpse rots in the earth,” she hissed then locked eyes with her friends.  Whether it was out of fear or agreement Pavetta nodded then wiped at the tears that began to form in her own eyes. 

“Be careful out there,” she said.

Sera nodded and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes before wrapping Pavetta in a tight hug.  “Thank you,” she said before pulling back from her.  She then knelt down to the ground at Ciri’s level and pulled the young, confused girl into a hug as well.  “Be good for your mother and your grandmother,” she said then kissed the top of her head before standing back up.  She gave her friend a nod then quickly left the room without looking back.

It didn’t take her long to get to the stables and she was surprised to see that someone had sent word to the stable hand to have Vega saddled up and ready.  “Seraphine, I have something for you!” said the voice of Mousesack as he ran up to her in the stables.  She turned to him and saw the folded parchment in his hand.  “I am glad I caught you.  I have written down the spell your mother was asking about and also this is a list of people I have found that your mother knew.  If you ever want to learn more about her you should visit them,” he said.  He did not try to talk her out of leaving Cintra nor did he tell her to not go after Ferdand.  Instead he gave her a sad smile as he took her hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze.  “Safe travels, my friend,” he said.  She nodded then mounted her faithful horse and without taking much time to think about what exactly she was doing she rode off toward the village she used to call home.

 After a few days of riding Sera arrived at the outskirts of her village.  In the distance she could see her family’s windmill which brought on a wave of mixed emotions including nostalgia and sorrow.  She hadn’t thought of what she was going to do once she got to her old home or what she was going to say to Will when she got there.  Despite her uncertainty she continued to guide Vega towards the old cottage.  As she approached from the edge of the forest that lined the backside of the house she dismounted from Vega and tied her off to a tree before going any further.  The last thing she wanted was to come in contact with Faye’s children and have them think she was a spirit.  She could not say the same for will.  If Faye had done as Sera said last she spoke to her sister, her old lover thought she was dead as well.

            Sera shook her head while walking up to the cottage and peered into the back window.  If she wanted to avenge her sister’s death she had to swallow all of the insecurities and fears she had towards seeing Will again.  The house was empty which was a good sign; she would be more likely to get Will alone.  She walked around the cottage and when she came to the front she felt her heart break at the sight before her.  The garden that once thrived with fresh produce was overgrown and half of the crop was rotten and the flowers that once lined the front were now wilted.  Sera frowned at the fact that her sister was the life of this home and now that she was gone she knew it was cold.  She looked out to the windmill and barn and made her way there to wait for Will’s return.  It was getting to be supper time and if he was out on a hunt with the children, as she assumed he was, she would be able to catch him there, in the barn.  At least her barn looked the same other than the sheen of dirt and dust that covered everything.  In the past she had managed to keep the barn semi clean, just as her father had liked it.  She climbed up in the loft and hid amongst the crates of things long forgotten then waited.

            It wasn’t long when she started to hear voices approach the barn, which made her sink further behind the crates.  “Deter, take your sister into the house and start supper, I will be there in a moment to help once I get Gayle put away,” said Willam as he walked into the barn pulling a larch black horse behind him.  Sera noted how much older he looked now.  She reminded herself that it had been over ten years since she had seen him last but time had drastically changed him.  Even from her perch she could see the grey hairs that peppered his once raven locks and his face that was once smooth was now covered in a matching, peppered, beard hiding some of his wrinkles.  Still, her heart swelled with emotion over gazing upon the first man she had ever loved now standing before her again after too many years. 

            As he began taking off all the gear from his horse she climbed down from the loft, plopping down in the center of the barn.  The sound of her feet hitting the ground made him look in her direction and once his eyes landed on hers they grew as large as saucers.  “Hello, Willam,” she said in a hushed tone.  She noticed how he paled at the sight of her making her feel like this was a mistake.

            “Seraphine,” he whispered and dropped the saddle he was holding in his hands.  It hit the ground emitting a cloud of dirt to waft through the still air.  “You’re dead, she told me you were dead,” he said, still in awe. 

            Some of her tension left at the realization that he knew it was her and not Faye’s ghost.  “I had Faye tell you I was dead, it was safer that way,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.  She wanted to take a step towards him but he still looked so pale.

            He stiffened and squared his shoulders before going back to putting the gear away.  “She’s dead,” he said.  He threw the saddle into an empty stall and practically ripped the blanket off of the horse.

            “I know, that’s why I am here Will,” she said and he stopped again.  This time she did step closer while he just stood there looking back at her with several emotions in his gaze.

            “How did you find out?  You haven’t been here in years yet not a month after she is dead you show up?  How did you find out Sera?” he asked, taking a giant step towards her.  He towered over her, always had, but the anger he held in his voice made her want to shrink back.

            “It’s a lot to explain… I… I have been living in Cintra as a lady of court and a guest of honor for saving the Princesses life,” she said and couldn’t tell if it was annoyance in his eyes or just hatred for her having a charmed life in court.  “The queen gifted me whatever I wanted so I told them my story and they promised that Ferdand would be struck down from his power,” she told him. 

            His eyes widened again and he ran his calloused hands through his hair.  He turned away from her and she noticed that now his hands were balled into fists.  “You did this,” he said, his voice once again low.  Sera took a step back from her and shook her head.  “When I got home to find Faye bleeding out on the floor she kept saying his name.  And when I asked her why he did this she said he knew,” he said.

            Sera shook her head.  “He couldn’t have figured it out.  Not unless he overheard… no,” she said as tears began to blur her vision.  He was right though this was her fault even if it was unintentional.  “I was just trying to get him off his pedestal, I was never to be mentioned.  The queen had her men watch over you all one of them must have said something about me and in passing… Will, I am so sorry,” she said as her body shook. 

            “Sorry?  My wife is dead, Sera.  My children lost their mother because of you,” he said now yelling down at her.  There was nothing but hate in his eyes and she couldn’t take that from him any longer.  She wiped at her eyes and stepped back, starting to leave the barn.  “You’re just going to leave now?  Did you just come to give your condolences then return to your home in a palace?” his voice was louder than she had ever heard it since knowing him.

            “I’m sorry, Will, I am sorry.  I am going to make this up to you and your children… and to Faye… I am so sorry,” she said.  She was a sobbing mess as she continued to back out of the barn.  “I came back not to gloat on my situation, but to get more information,” she wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath.  “I come to kill that bastard.  And to make sure that the last breath he takes is because of me,” she told him, her voice getting a little stronger now.

            He was shaking his head.  “It can’t be fixed, Seraphine, even with his death,” he said, now looking at the ground.  “I want you gone and I don’t want you to ever return.  This isn’t your home anymore and I want you to get the hell out,” he said as his teeth ground together. 

            Sera straightened her shoulders and nodded.  “I’m sorry, Will,” she whispered then ran out of the barn and back to Vega.  She mounted her horse quickly and rode off blindly for her eyes were filled with tears.

 The sun was setting as Sera drank from the large stream just a few miles from her village.  After leaving her old home she rode to the stream to collect her thoughts and to hatch a plan on just how she was going to execute everything.  Thanks to the information given to her by the queen’s men long ago, she knew that Ferdand lived in a small shack just on the edge of the village.  It was secluded just enough that she wouldn’t be seen sneaking around.  She would make sure he was home by peering into the windows and then enter through a window or door, whichever was easily accessible.  Her hope was that he would be sleeping by that time of night and she could catch him off guard, just as she had done with other monsters in the past. 

            “Vega, tonight I will keep you untied, just outside of his home that way we can get out before anyone notices.  It will be quick and quiet,” she said.  Her friend didn’t make a sound and she only blinked back at Sera.  She began to think about what she would do when this was over.  Part of her wanted to return to Cintra to be with Pavetta and Ciri while the part of her that had been lost due to the death of her sister wanted nothing more than to disappear into the earth herself.  She let out a sigh and peered up at the canopy above her.  She had missed this, the sounds of nature and being outside.  That was something that Cintra didn’t really give her.  Just then she heard a twig snap a ways from her and her attention shot in that direction.  She stood and grabbed Vega’s reins as she waited to see what was causing the rustling that was slowly coming towards them.  Slowly she unsheathed her sword and stood at Vega’s side.  A tall, brown colored animal came out of the brush and made its way to the stream before them, not taking much regard for the pair.  “Roach?” she asked and the horse looked in her direction for a mere second then returned to the stream to gulp down more water.  If she was here that meant Geralt had to be somewhat nearby.  She wanted to laugh at the pure coincidence of it all.  Five years, five entire years and now she is running into that man again, or rather his horse this time.  And she knew it was Roach judging by the white stripe on her face and the fact that there was still a single sword strapped to the saddle with enough space to hold another.  And that saddle was so unique and exotically designed that it had to be her due to the fact that Geralt travelled so much.  Sera, still holding onto Vega’s reins, walked over to Roach and reached out to pet her.  She didn’t stir, showing Sera that she trusted her.  She grinned and tied off Vegas reigns to the side of Roach’s saddle then mounted the brown horse.

            Roach didn’t seem to mind Sera riding upon her and soon a familiar whistle was heard.  Sera was impressed with the instant attention Roach took to the whistle and even though she was still thirsty she galloped on towards it with no hesitation.  Sera made sure Vega was keeping up with them as they rode on.  Another whistle sounded, this one was closer, making roach speed up.  As they rode into a clearing, Sera’s gaze fell on the sight of Geralt knelt down before three dead arachas as he collected useful items from them.  She cleared her throat and his gaze shot over to her.  “Hello, Geralt,” she said while jumping off the back of Roach. 

            “Seraphine,” he said as he raised his dark brows in surprise.  He stood and walked over to where she still stood with Vega and Roach.  “What are you doing here?” he asked as she pulled her freshly filled water skin from her saddlebags and held it out to him.

            “I was at the stream, resting for a bit,” she said with a small grin.  “I see you were taking care of a small infestation problem,” she said as she glanced at the carcasses of the arachas.

            “Yes, your village had a contract out for them,” he said after taking a long drink from the water skin.  His brows were furrowed as he looked her up and down.  He noted that she looked too armored to be simply resting at the stream.

            “Yes it seems the village has a theme of having monster problems lately.  Those and the human kind,” she said while taking the water skin back from him and putting it back in the saddle bag.  “It’s been years, Geralt, and you haven’t changed a bit.  I guess that’s a pro from the mutagens, huh?”

            “Seraphine, what do you mean human monsters?  Why are you here and not in Cintra?” he asked, ignoring her other comment.  He feared the response and he had a right to.  He didn’t know her well but he did know that Sera was one that made quick and brash decisions and she was hard headed so her mind wouldn’t be changed.

            He watched as she clenched her jaw at his question, or rather the thought of the answer.  “I am here for Ferdand, if you must know.  Tonight I plan on killing the son of a bitch,” she said, her words like ice.  He didn’t get the chance to ask why she was planning on taking someone’s life because she told him before he could.  “He murdered Faline… he killed my sister in cold blood, Geralt,” she said.

            “You can’t take a life,” he told her, his expression softening.  He could see it now, the tension and sorrow that racked her body.  She looked exhausted yet also looked as if she would explode at the wrong words.

            “And he can?  Am I to stand aside and accept that he can take a life… the life of my sister?  She was a wife… she was a mother, Geralt,” she hissed while stepping back to Vega, suddenly wanting to leave.

            “You’ve never taken a life, have you?” he asked.  She didn’t answer, she didn’t have to, he could see it written all over her face.  “It changes you but it won’t solve anything.  Killing him won’t make you feel better about what has happened, it won’t bring your sister back either,” he told her.

            She blinked at his words as if they hurt her.  “I have to,” she whispered.  “I have to see his blood spill at my hand.  You don’t understand,” she said while shaking her head.  She couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed.  Geralt’s sole job as a witcher was to kill monsters; even he had to know that some monsters were just wearing a human disguise.  She took hold of Vegas reigns and was about to mount her saddle when Geralt grabbed a hold of her arm.

            “I can’t let you,” he said, his golden orbs peering into her.  He looked as if he was begging with her to make the decision to not go on a rampage.  But she couldn’t.  She had to rid the world of that man. 

            She attempted to pull out of his grasp but he wouldn’t give.  “Why, Geralt, he is a monster, you should be fine with it,”

“You don’t want that blood on your hands, it won’t help with what you are feeling,” he said, still holding onto her arm.

“Geralt, don’t do this,” she said with pleading eyes.  “I told Will I would kill that man and that is what I plan to do.  You are not stopping me just because you have this new definition of who does and does not deserve to die.  Ferdand has caused me years of pain and loneliness and I will not let you stand in my way of repaying him what he is owed.”

            He shook his head and she tried to free herself once more before reaching her other hand to wear her sword was strapped onto the saddle.  Geralt heard the metal being unsheathed and jumped back unsheathing his own sword.  “Fuck,” he said.  “Sera, don’t do this,” he was begging her now but she swung at him nonetheless. 

            “Then let me go.  Let me do what I came here to do, Geralt,” she said as they danced around one another, swords ready to deflect any attack.  But he shook his head so she swung at him again.  The sound of their swords clashing together rang through Sera’s ears as they continued their battle.

            He found himself admiring her fluid movement and the strength in her form.  They struggled against one another and she shoved herself back from him so they could return to circling one another.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her so he didn’t know what he was going to do.  He hoped she would just tire herself out and give up but he knew she wasn’t the giving up type and he admired that about her as well.  He found this woman to be an interesting one and that was the reason behind the fact that for four five years she haunted his thoughts. 

            He swung at her and she attempted to dodge it but fell back into the earth instead.  He pointed his blade at her and she dropped hers, surrendering.  “Dammit, Geralt,” she said, letting her head rest back on the earth in frustration. 

            “Come with me, we can leave this behind,” he said with a nod in the direction of the village.  He held his free hand out to her and she accepted it.  He pulled her to her feet then bent down to pick up her sword. 

            “Where would we go?” she asked.

            He glanced at her before turning away to put both of their swords in his own holder on Roach’s saddle.  “Wherever you wanted,” he told her. 

            She nodded but with his back to her she knelt down for a nearby rock hoping that he wouldn’t hear her over the sound of him packing his things away.  “I can’t go anywhere till I finish this, Geralt, I am sorry,” she said and before he could turn around she hit the back of his head with the stone and watched him fall to the ground in an unconscious heap.  She quickly gathered her sword and mounted Vega.  “Stay with him, Roach,” she said to the other horse then rode off to carry out the task she returned for.

 It didn’t take her long to get back to the village.  She made sure to come up behind the area she knew his shack was found and tied Vega off at the edge of the forest.  She gave her friend a pat on her side and grabbed her sword then headed towards the dim glow of the village.  She came up behind the cottage and noticed that the window was open.  She peered inside to see that the main room was empty and that he must be sleeping in the side room.  She lifted herself through the window silently and put her feet on the dirt ground of the inside of the home.  Her sword was already unsheathed before she arrived so she walked to the small side room with it at the ready.  She was surprised to see the man sitting up in his small bed with his gaze on the doorway.  “I knew one of you would come, though I thought it would be the boy first,” he said as he looked up at her.  “You look the same as you always have, Seraphine,” he told her. 

She lowered her sword but still held onto it tightly.  “Why did you do it?” she asked as tears began to well in her eyes. 

He looked up at her with no expression.  “Do you think I didn’t know it was her this whole time?  I was mesmerized by Faline.  You may be her twin but I was always able to tell you two apart,” he said then let out a bitter laugh.  “I give you credit though.  Having her stay with your lover, even going as far as having a family with him… it was a good idea.  The men sent from Cintra made that fact even more obvious.”

“If that’s true, why did you follow me all those years?  If you knew she was right under your nose this whole time…” she said, anger now edged her voice. 

“At first it was to get back at you because you thought it would be easy to trick me.  Then it became an obsession, the same as the one I had for your sister.  When they claimed you were dead thanks to the word of that lying witcher, it was all over for me.  When I lost my position as mayor and knew that Faline had children of her own I was at a loss.  Everything that I thought was in my control was now ripped from my hands,” he said.  She was surprised at how upset he sounded but knew it was all for selfish reasons.  “Then one of my men had the luck of attending court for some time in Cintra.  When he returned a month ago he told me of a woman that matched your description.  It threw me into a rage, Seraphine, to know that you indeed had gotten away with everything and that you were still living.  Your sister was the closest one I had to inflict that rage upon,” he told her then looked up at her with red, tired eyes. 

She would not feel pity for this man but she could see the mental turmoil he had put himself through due to her and her sister.  “You murdered the mother of two children… the wife of a good man… and you expect me to have pity for you?” she seethed.  “I have seen much of this continent, Ferdand, I have fought many monsters you know this.  But never have I crossed one as vile as you.  And never will I take as much joy in killing one as I will when I kill you,” she told him.

He reached for the mug on the floor near the bed and took a long drink and she allowed this.  “My pet, I have more joy in knowing I am taking that from you,” he told her.  And as she furrowed her brows in confusion he began convulsing and spewed a mix of liquid and blood from his mouth. 

Sera watched as he fell back onto the bed while reaching his hand out to her, gargling on bodily fluids.  “You bastard!” she said while dropping to her knees beside the bed.  She grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and shook him.  “You can’t take this from me!” she cried.  Tears ran down her face as she watched the life leave his body.  She let out a sound one could only describe as true despair.  “Dammit!” she said then sank to the ground, resting her back on the door frame.  Then she cried.

 Moments later the main door to the shack opened but Sera didn’t move from the spot she sat in.  She instead continued to stare at the lifeless form of the man she had known as her enemy almost her entire life.  He had taken everything from her, including the chance of her avenging her sister’s death.  She didn’t have to look up to know that it was Geralt who entered the shack; she had figured he would come looking for her once he regained consciousness.  “He’s dead.  I didn’t do it… but he’s dead and I should feel better knowing it but it still hurts,” she said and looked up to see his yellow eyes staring back at her.  She couldn’t take the amount of pity she got from his gaze so she returned her own back to the ground.  “I’m not supposed to hurt… he is dead,” she whispered.

            Geralt said nothing; he only gathered her up in his arms and carried her out of the shack, making sure to grab her sword as he left.  He had already pulled Vega around to the other side of the shack.  He put Sera on the back of Roach then tied Vega off to his own saddle.  He then mounted Roach behind Sera and wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling off.  He rode to the next village over and paid for a room at the inn along with a board for the horses then carried her still silent form to the room.

            He sat her down on the bed and knelt down so he could look at her.  Her eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing.  He felt a wave of emotions flow through him as he looked at the woman he used to know as strong.  She was a crumbling mess, an emotionless void.  He stood and began to move to the chair nearby.  “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered.

            He turned back to her, feeling his heart drop at her plea.  He moved back to the bed and sat down on the edge as she lay back onto the pillow.  “I’ll be here,” he promised.  She watched him for a moment as if she didn’t believe him, as if she thought he would leave once she closed her eyes.  But after he gave her a reassuring nod she let her eyes close and sleep overcame her.     

[milk-is-here]

Wedding part 2

in this part, I was having a very hard time closing it so I once again received help from @amethystsoda who crafted the absolutely most perfect ending!! It made me smile like a dork for a straight hour and a half, hehe.

The reception was decorated elegantly, flowered lights hanging from the branches of a large oak tree, tables set with beautiful vases of white and blue flowers. A spacious area was lined with fairy lights, a hidden sound system playing soft music.

Guests placed their gifts on a fairly large table, sarah suggesting its size with the passing phrase of "better safe than sorry", everyone choosing a seat and chatting with each other.

Once everyone had settled into their places around the tables, Fugo came up with a microphone to ask everyone to prepare their glasses for the speeches. Handing Helena the microphone first, the room went silent as she gripped the microphone with a shy laugh.

“Hello everyone! My name is Helena. Most of you know me as Don Giovanna’s wife, though. I first met Sarah through Mista! Since Giorno and Mista are so close, Sarah and I became close quickly as well. I was immediately drawn in by her warmth and joy! She made me feel like I had someone who truly understood what this life is like. Someone I could share my joys and frustrations with… And while some of us wondered if Mista would ever find someone,” She paused for a moment as scattered laugher echoed through the garden. “We all knew from the moment he first introduced us to Sarah that the two of you were meant for forever. Sarah, you have found a good man in Mista. And Mista, you have found a treasure in Sarah. We are all delighted for your union today and wish you unending years of happiness. So, a toast, if I may.” She raised her glass, motioning for everyone else to do the same.

"¡Alcemos nuestras copas, uniendo nuestros deseos para que esta pareja sea bendecida con un hogar lleno de salud, amor y bienestar! ¡Salud!"

("Let's raise our glasses, joining our desires so that this couple is blessed with a home full of health, love and well-being! Cheers!")

Clinking her glass with Sarah’s, everyone else called out a happy “Salud!” and did the same, sipping the drink after. Pulling Helena into her arms, Sarah thanked her for the speech, holding tight for a moment before sitting back down. Fugo returned once more, indicating that it was now Giorno’s turn to speak.

“Greetings, all. My name is Giorno Giovanna and I… have a dream.” Scattered laughter again from those who knew his classic line. “No, no. What I have is a friend, a right hand man, Mista. He is the one I trust most with my life and the person I wish most to have happiness in this life. I don’t think I could have found anyone better for him than Sarah. Their energy together is infectious. Mista even smiles when he’s around her. You can see the light in his eyes when he talks about her. They truly are companions, one for another. We wish many years of life, love, and perhaps even a few children??” Everyone laughed again, happily. “You are most deserving of the happiness life has brought to you and we join our hearts with you today to celebrate. Salute!”

Everyone cheered and drank, as before—Mista and Giorno shaking hands and patting each other on the back in a grateful gesture. With only one speech left, instead of Fugo introducing them, Bruno himself walked over to take the microphone.

“Buona sera! My name is Bruno and I am so proud of my children!~ Si, si, we may not be related by blood, but I love them as if they were my own. And today, Mista has spread his wings. He has taken on the greatest mission yet—marriage. He shall prove his loyalty and bravery each day to his wife. Sarah, you are the one his heart has found. The fulfillment of his dreams and desires. There is no one more worthy. Live your life well together. Cherish each day. Each moment. Never hesitate to show how much you care. To give a flood of kisses before leaving for work. To keep him just a little longer in your arms. Savor your days together. Now…” He raised his glass, staring up at the couple.

“To Sarah and Mista. The beloved match. May you find an eternity of joy together, fulfillment of dreams, and satisfaction in desire. Hold one another close and do not let go. Blessings upon the two of you. Salute!”

Everyone was a little teary eyed as they heard the toast, giving one more round of clinks and sips. Mista and Sarah were so moved that they both got up and rushed over to Bruno, pulling him in their arms for a hug.

Pulling away and moving more towards the designated dance floor, sarah addressed the audience in a loud and clear voice, projecting well from choir experience in her younger years,

"And now it's the moment I'm sure many of you have been waiting for since the ceremony came to a close, the father daughter dance. Polnareff, if you would join me on the dance floor?"

She gave him a warm smile as Waltz in A Minor flower out of the speakers, polnareff walking over and gently taking her hand before leading her in an elegant waltz around the dance floor. Her skirt fluttered with the twirls and steady footsteps, sarah feeling grateful that her bridesmaids had convinced her to wear flats instead of heels.

Then, as the song ended, a second song began. The tell tale notes of the acoustic version of ‘Quite Like You' by the script flowed out of the speakers, Mista gliding over as Polnareff passed Sarah off to him for a final time. Sarah beamed up at her husband, giving him a quick kiss before tucking her head under his chin, her eyes sliding shut as they slowly swayed in each others arms.

The other lights around the room dimmed until only fairy lights shone out, the romance of the evening settling over the scene. As the song continued, other couples joined them on the floor—Giorno and Helena, Ariel and Rohan, and Cait and Narancia. Each couple danced slowly, soft in each other’s embrace, arms wrapped tight and heads nestled into shoulders. As the music quietly faded out, all the guests clapped, acknowledging the bride and groom. Mista, in the rush of the moment, dipped Sarah back into a deep kiss, making both of them blush.

As soon as Mista pulled Sarah back up, he grinned and called out, “And with that, dinner is served!!”

Returning to their seats, everyone settled back in, instrumental classical music echoing through the venue as conversation picked back up around the room. Eventually, the sound of silverware on glasses sounded, others joining in and watching the happy couple with anticipation. Grabbing Mista’s collars, Sarah pulled him in, grinning into his lips as they kissed. Even the pistols gathered around with their tiny cheers, sitting on Mista and Sarah’s shoulders as they finally parted. Tucking Sarah’s hair back, Mista’s grin widened as he whispered, “I can’t wait to do that every day for the rest of my life.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of dinner, cake cutting, and dancing (the dance floor opening up again after the meal to welcome guests). Before the night was over, the bride and groom had one more event planned—the bouquet and garter toss. Mista went first, putting Sarah on a chair in the middle of the dance floor and popping under her skirt to grab the garter (her secret “something blue”). When he finally tossed it, Narancia was the fastest of them all, snatching it out of the air with an excited yelp.

Standing again, cheeks still flushed, Sarah asked all the unmarried women to crowd onto the dance floor as she held the bouquet. The pistols, hiding at the base of the flowers, gave a tiny OK to Sarah, gigging as they readied their plan. Turning her back to the crowd, she launched the bundle into the air. The front line grasped for the flowers as they soared, pushing each other out of the way. Avoiding the clutching fingertips, however, the flowers landed in a straight arc to a very surprised pair of hands. The bouquet had been delivered to Ariel, who stared at it with a soft blush, glancing over at her fiancé Rohan mouthing, “Guess we’re next?~”

The Pistols, having succeeded with their plan, flew out from the bouquet, shouting happily at Sarah and Mista, overlapping one another’s voices.

“We did it!! Did you see? Went off without a hitch!!”

Mista held out a hand for them, revealing a chunk of cake in the other as a reward for a job well done. With their happy cries soon silenced in mouths full of cake, Mista raised his eyebrows at Sarah.

“I think our jobs are done here, yes… What do you say we call it a night?~”

With a slight flush, she nodded, taking his free hand.

“Yes, I think we should~”

Lena, having prepared the exit for the lovebirds, handed sparklers to all the waiting guests, telling them to line up on either side of the exit. Lighting them from small torches at the same time, Helena grabbed the couple, telling them it was time to go and rushing them outside. Glimmering sparks lit up the evening as Sarah and Mista walked to the waiting car, laughing and grinning through the line of well-wishers. Giorno met them at the end, opening the car door and giving Mista one last hug goodnight.

“Good luck, friend~ Don’t forget to relax.”

“I’ve got it Giorno! We’ll be fine!”

Sarah tugged on Mista’s tie to pull him inside.

“Mista, let’s go! C’mon!”

He laughed, shrugging at Giorno.

“Can’t argue with my wife~ See you soon, boss.”

As the door finally shut, the limo pulled away, whisking the newlyweds off to a night alone together.

[novamm66]

Red Sky in the Morning - Chapter 17 – Safe Harbour

Find the Red Sky Master Page Here.

And if you prefer AO3 that is Here.

—-

Kiaya gulped as she stood at the base of the stairs, waiting with Cassandra. She could hear the ebb and flow of the sounds of many people gathered in the lower courtyard.

“Is it too late to change my mind?”

The other woman snorted. “I think it might be. Just remember, slow and steady, don’t look at the people directly if it makes you uncomfortable, and don’t drop the sword.”

The last startled a laugh out of Kiaya, and her smile came a little bit easier. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, waiting for their cue, before Kiaya turned to Cassandra.

“I am really sorry about before. We should have told you. I should have told you before we left for Crestwood or when we got back. It was a mistake, I know. And I don’t want you to think I was siding with Varric.” Kiaya said, referring to the fight she had broken up earlier that day. “I just didn’t want you to kill him. I think you would have regretted it. Eventually.”

“I know,” Cassandra sighed. “I just wish…” her face was wistful for a moment before hardening, “It doesn’t matter. It is done.”

Kiaya couldn’t resist hugging her. “Just try not to hate him forever. I really need you both.” Kiaya said.

Cass chuckled. “I promise not to kill him, at least not right away.”

Kiaya laughed, “That works.” The two women pulled apart as they both saw Leliana motion to them from the landing. Kiaya felt her stomach heave as her nerves reasserted themselves.

“Tell me you have a bucket stashed somewhere close.”

Cassandra looked at her with concern. “Don’t be sick over the wall.”

“I’m kidding.” Kiaya managed a weak smile as Cassandra started leading the way up the stairs. Kiaya following a few steps behind. “Mostly.”

—-

“Kiaya?” Evelyn’s voice echoed up the stairs to Kiaya’s room.

“I’m here, Evie,” Kiaya called from where she sat, scrubbing at a spot of the rug.

Evelyn started speaking just as she reached the top of the stairs. “We need to… Why are you doing that?”

Kiaya grinned over her shoulder at her sister, but before she could answer, Cole beat her to it.

“Trying to fit the mould of what they need me to be. Nothing feels real.” Cole said, running his fingers down Shi’s back. He was sitting on the couch with the cat in his lap, their identical expressions of curiosity and innocence making Kiaya laugh.

“Not what I would have said, but not wrong. Shi was sick on the rug, he’s my cat, I’m cleaning it up.” Kiaya rinsed out the brush in the bucket next to her before picking up a rag and resuming her scrubbing.

“Nothing is more real than that,” Evelyn laughed, crossing the room and started to shuffle through the papers on the desk.

Kiaya climbed to her feet, picked up the bucket, and headed to the balcony to dump it. “Was there something you needed?” She asked as she came back in.

“Alone would be- Maker’s Breath!” Evelyn was staring at the empty couch. Both Cole and the cat were gone.

“You get used to that.” Kiaya smiled fondly at the vacant space. “You may commence your scolding.” Kiaya said as she put the cleaning gear away.

“What makes you think I am going to scold you?” Evelyn was trying to look stern but Kiaya could see the smile fighting to get through.

“You have that, Kiaya-is-being-an-idiot tone of voice.” Kiaya flopped down on the couch.

“Well, you are.” Evelyn crossed the room and sat down beside Kiaya. “You want to be coy and aloof about yourself, fine. But it’s dangerous and stupid. Why haven’t you told anyone about the extent of your injuries?” Evelyn grabbed Kiaya’s hand, worry clear on her face. “You haven’t been doing the therapy that would help you. Why are you hurting yourself?”

“Feel better?” Kiaya asked when Evelyn stopped.

“Not until I get answers.” Evelyn frowned at her.

Kiaya sighed, “I woke up in chains, in a cell, with no idea how I got there or why, and your name was the only one they had for me. The only reason I wasn’t executed on the spot was this fucking thing.” Kiaya dug her fingertips into the palm of her left hand as she held it out. “I was, I am, living on borrowed time. After everything that has happened,” Kiaya shuddered, “The Inquisition needed someone better. They needed someone who is not me.”

“That’s shit and you know it,” Evelyn stated. Kiaya looked at her in surprise. Evelyn rarely swore. “They need someone human, who thinks of others before they think of themselves, and for that you are perfect.” Evelyn’s face softened as she wrapped her arms around Kiaya’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t isolate yourself. It leads to bad places, remember? You need people, and there is no shame in that. Your friends here have fought beside you, bled with you. Why can’t you be honest with them?”

“The truth hasn’t always served me well in the past, and I’m just…”

“Scared.” Evelyn finished for her.

“Yes, I am scared,” Kiaya groaned. “I couldn’t bear seeing pity on their faces. Or worse.”

“This is not the same as the Circle, and no one is going to treat you like that again as long as I draw breath. You cannot survive this alone. You need to trust people. I think you should start with that gorgeous Commander of yours.” Evelyn suggested.

“He’s not my Commander,” Kiaya replied, rolling her eyes at her sister as her face warmed.

“The way he looks at you all gooey-eyed, he is yours. You have been in his office every night for the last two weeks. Just tell him already.” Evelyn poked Kiaya in the side.

“I am there getting help with writing reports. You know that, Evelyn. ‘My mother abandoned me like a stray dog and my father tried to kill me like one’ tends to be a bit difficult to work into Inquisition business, and it tends to dampen any pleasant conversation.”

“You are being an idiot. There, now I do feel better,” Evelyn said as she stood and crossed the room to Kiaya’s wardrobe while Kiaya laughed.

Evelyn began putting away Kiaya’s laundry as she continued. “Lyra will be here shortly with food and then I am teaching, her, Cassandra, Solas, and Dorian the exercises you need, so whether you are here or out there running around, you will be doing them.”

“Why not Sera too? She will get the most joy out of folding me into knots and making me squirm,” Kiaya said dryly.

“Good idea.” Evelyn laughed and Kiaya groaned.

“After that, you are going to stop being silly and tell Commander Cullen how you feel. You are leaving in two days and you won’t get another chance for ages.”

Kiaya watched her sister pulling out clothes. Tears pricked at her eyes. Evelyn always took care of her; she took care of everyone. Her tone brought back memories of a ten-year-old scolding her for tracking dirt on the library rug. “I am so happy you are here, Evie. I am so sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Stop that,” Evelyn said, pausing with hands on her hips to glare at Kiaya. “I started all this when I asked you to go to the Conclave for me and besides, the Trevelyan name has never done you any good before. I am going to make damn sure it does now.” Her voice and stance softened. “You are not alone in this. Now, get changed into something loose. We don’t have a lot of time.”

—-

Kiaya couldn’t concentrate. The letters on the parchment were dancing in front of her eyes and she couldn’t pin them down properly.

It had been a long afternoon. Dorian had brought wine, and her friend’s jokes and teasing had made the afternoon fun, but Evelyn had been thorough in showing everyone what needed to be done and it had left Kiaya in a lot of pain. Which was really her own fault. Kiaya’s months of neglect had resulted in very stiff joints, and the muscles in her legs and back were unbalanced. She had barely been able to walk by the time she arrived at Cullen’s office.

Also, she kept changing her mind about confessing her feelings to Cullen or not. Every time she made her decision another reason, for or against, would come to her and she was plunged back into doubt again.

“Kiaya, are you alright?”

Kiaya jumped. Cullen was looking at her with a half-smile and a tenderness in his eyes that always made her heart beat faster.

“I’m fine.” Kiaya croaked, her throat feeling dry.

“You just seem a bit distracted.” Cullen’s eyes flicked down to the parchment in front of her. Kiaya followed suit and discovered that she had dripped ink all over the page. It was beyond saving.

“Crap,” Kiaya groaned, looking up sheepishly. “I guess I am having trouble focusing.”

“Then we have done enough for this evening.” Cullen stretched his shoulders, rubbing his neck.

“This from the man who never stops working before midnight,” Kiaya said, glancing at the pearly light of evening outside the window. “I will pretend I believe you.” She looked back to the document in front of her and sighed, “I guess this one is kindling.” Crumpling it up into a ball, she tossed it into the wood box next to the fire.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Cullen said, “If you are able.” Concern appeared on his face; he had commented on her noticeable limp when she had arrived.

Kiaya smiled and nodded. “Moving might actually be better right now. It might help with the stiffness.”

“Evelyn was quite upset this afternoon. I take it she was hard on you?” Cullen asked as he put away what he was working on.

“I got an ear full, that’s for sure. As for how sore I am, that’s really my own fault. If I had been doing what I should have I wouldn’t hurt so damn much now.” Kiaya couldn’t stop the small groan as she stood.

Cullen held the door open for her. “Well, I’m not in a position to judge, so you will not hear a scolding from me.”

—-

The walk was Cullen’s idea but he was having trouble thinking of anything to say. Kiaya had fallen silent again. They had stopped along the back wall of the keep, and Kiaya was leaning against it, staring at the horizon with unfocused eyes.

The light played up the rich red and gold of her hair. Waves and curls had escaped the knot she had bound it in and they drifted around her face on the gentle breeze. Her eyes shone with soft grey light and she was absolutely... 

“Beautiful.”

Kiaya turned to face him, the grey of her eyes shifting to blue as she moved.

“I, the sunset and view.” Cullen stammered. “It’s beautiful.”

Kiaya nodded as she looked back to the horizon. She seemed about to say something, but instead she shook her head and sighed instead.

“What is bothering you Kiaya? Maybe I could help.” Instinctively, Cullen reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek.

Her eyes closed and she tilted her head into his fingers. Before Cullen could even register his surprise Kiaya spoke.

“I can’t decide whether my caring so much for you is a good or bad idea.”

Cullen froze, his hand still gently touching her face. His heart suddenly wanted to fly. Then Kiaya seemed to realize what she had said and she stiffened, her face the picture of surprise before she covered it with her hands.

—-

Kiaya was mortified. She had been so wrapped up in her own head, the moment he had touched her everything else had disappeared. When he asked, she answered without a thought, distracted by the warmth of his hand on her face and the care and concern in his voice. In all the scenarios she had imagined, both good and bad, none of them started with her blurting her feelings out like a ninny.

Kiaya felt Cullen’s hands circle her wrists. “Kiaya, look at me.” Cullen’s voice was gentle but firm. “Please.”

It took her a moment before she let him pull her hands away from her face and she opened her eyes. He had moved closer, and she had to look up to see his face. When their eyes met, her racing heart stopped dead in its tracks.

Cullen’s golden eyes were on fire. “Do you mean it? You care for me?” He asked.

Kiaya nodded, and he kissed her.

Kiaya’s eyes closed and her hands fisted into his shirt as she rose up on her toes to meet him. He tasted like honey and rainwater, mixed with the scent of leather and metal that always clung to him. It had Kiaya intoxicated instantly.

Their kiss lasted forever and it ended far too soon. Kiaya’s heels hit the ground with a thump, their foreheads touching as they caught their breath.

“I take it that you think it’s a good idea?” Kiaya smiled.

“A very good idea.” The two melted together again, kissing softly as sunset gold surrounded them. It was perfect.

—-

Cullen was more content then he had thought possible. Kiaya’s confession that her feelings matched his own had given him the courage to act, and he had done what he had been dreaming of longer then he would care to admit.

They had stayed on the battlements until the stars came out, but when Cullen felt Kiaya shiver he insisted they return to his office. Once they were safely shut away, they curled up on the couch with idle conversation between stolen kisses, gradually settling into a comfortable silence. Kiaya was curled into his side, her head resting on his chest. The gentle movement of her fingers stroking his was the only indication she was awake.

Cullen tenderly kissed her hair, inhaling the delicate scent of her, and she hummed quietly.

“Kiaya, how did you get hurt?” Cullen softly asked the question foremost in his mind.

Cullen felt Kiaya tense beneath his arm, her fingers stilling before they resumed their slow pattern. He was relieved that she didn’t pull away; in fact, she curled more tightly into his side.

“I was about fourteen, fifteen when my Grams told me how they found me. She gave me the Ostwick Chantry emblem with ‘Kiaya’ scratched on the back, and they agreed to my request to go there. The chantry had the record of my birth with my approximate age and the names of my parents. It listed my father as Lord Trevelyan. I decided I wanted to know more, but Papa was dead set against it. We had an awful row and I, as an almost adult, thought I knew better. I packed up and left.”

Kiaya paused. Cullen could tell this wasn’t easy for her to talk about. Her sentences were clipped, and she was speaking very quickly. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, waiting for her to continue.

“I travelled to the Trevelyan estate outside of Ostwick only to discover the family wasn’t there. So, I talked my way into a job in their kitchen, which didn’t go well because I can’t cook, and waited for their return. By the time they did, I had heard enough of the household gossip to convince me that I did not want to tell the Lord who I was. I was simply biding my time until the Raven came back to Ostwick and I could run home. Then I met Evelyn.”

Kiaya’s voice warmed as she spoke of her sister. “She was smart for a ten-year-old, and she knew we were blood the moment she laid eyes on me. She was so lonely after her mother died. Her father and brother were, are, nasty pieces of shit. She was thrilled to have a sister, and we agreed to keep my presence to ourselves. I was kitchen staff, and no one looked at me twice, so it wasn’t hard. I was there when Evelyn’s magic presented, and I was able to help her control and hide it, and she was teaching me to read and write. It was fun, like a game, sneaking around to spend time together at night.”

Cullen felt a shudder go through her, but before he could speak Kiaya continued.

“Until the night he caught us. There was a party and he was drunk, and I guess he wanted to show off his collection of books he never read. He caught us practicing magic. He was angry that I had ‘turned’ his daughter into a mage. Evelyn defended me and told him everything, which only threw him into a rage. He hit her and I attacked him, and Evelyn lost control.”

Kiaya sighed. “The last thing I remember is casting a barrier that barely protected all of us from the explosion and I was thrown out a window. Whether that was the cause of my injury or the beating Lord Trevelyan laid on me after he found me unconscious on the ground, I don’t know. Ultimately, I was lucky that Malcolm was attending the party with his family, who were neighbours of the Trevelyans. He pulled Lord Trevelyan off me, then, since both Evelyn and I were discovered as mages, he brought us to the Circle. Lydia was the head healer, and she saved my life. But there was too much damage, and it took me six years and some desperate measures to walk normally again.”

The crackle and snap of the fire filled the room. Cullen’s mind was a storm of thoughts and feelings as he processed everything she had said. No wonder she struggled to trust anyone. He was angry on her behalf, but there was nothing to be done about anything now.

Kiaya shifted and sat up, her eyes filled with worry as she scanned his face. “Was that too much? Should I have gone with the short version?” Her tone was light but forced, the crease between her brows betraying her concern.

Cullen reached out to stroke the side of her face. “Not at all. I’m touched that you told me, but out of curiosity, what is the short version?”

“Bad shit happened, and I got hurt,” Kiaya said, her brow smoothing and the sparkle of laughter appearing in her eyes.

Cullen laughed, “Well, that is certainly shorter.”

Kiaya grinned as she curled back against him with a sigh of contentment. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Cullen asked kissing the top of her head again.

“For listening. For not feeling sorry for me or thinking less of me, or at least not outwardly.”

Cullen shifted and tilted her face up to his. “You have only increased my admiration for you. You are strong and amazing, and I will always listen to anything you wish to tell me.”

Kiaya kissed him, and for a time, words became unnecessary.

—-

I am furiously blushing right now. This one was a hard one for me to write. It’s my first kiss scene so I hope you enjoyed it.

(Thank you so much @kagetsukai for the advice I hope I embraced the awkward well.)

Comments, Likes and Reblogs would make me giddy.

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of the Yiga | Chapter 49

Link slid into the stool beside Dorian. It was by no means five o’clock, so it came as a surprise when Cottla told him where to find her father. He never picked him to be a barfly, but he was the last person to judge. It had been a few weeks since he and Aryll found Cremia, and thus discovered their strange inheritance, and since then, Link found himself at a loss with what to do with the money. 

Since then, he had picked up his job again, thanks to Sera, and before long, Aryll had returned to school to begin her final year in high school. Everything was relatively back to normal, and despite all that had happened, Link felt like he had his life in control. Still, he couldn’t help but to feel a strange emptiness when he was home, which brought him to the decision that it was time to move on with their lives, for better or for worse. He had to leave the place he once called home and start a new life for himself.

“I heard you met Camilla,” Dorian said, not looking at him as he sat.

“Where did he get the money?” Link asked, his gaze hard on Dorian.

But Dorian only smiled, not meeting his gaze. “Don’t spend it all at once,” he said cryptically.

“I’m not taking it,” Link hissed. “Not unless I know where it came from.”

“Why does it have to come from anywhere?” Dorian said. “He’s had that thing around for a long time.”

“Nobody has that kind of money,” Link said. “Not unless you’re the damn king of Hyrule.”

Dorian shrugged. “Heroes need to get paid. You said so yourself. Your father saw to it that you would get just that.”

“And I’m supposed to just accept that?”

“Yes,” Dorian said simply. “If you don’t want it, I’ll put it to good use.”

“Yeah, right,” Link said. He sighed.

“Just take it and be grateful,” Dorian said. “It’s what he would have wanted.”

Link looked down at the counter for a moment. When the bartender came by for his order, Link shook his head.

Dorain turned his gaze to Link. He stared at him for a moment, longer than he intended. When Link met his gaze, he turned away.

Link’s brows furrowed. “What?”

Dorian smiled. “Nothing,” he said at first. “I forget how much you look like him.”

Link turned away, but said nothing.

“We sat at a lot of bars together,” Dorian continued. “It kind of felt like that for a second.”

“I wouldn’t have picked you for a bar guy.”

Dorian chuckled. “I wasn’t.” He shrugged. “What are you doing here, anyway? Did you just come to give me shit?”

“Yes,” Link started. “Among other things.”

Dorian raised a brow.

“I decided to sell the house,” he said. “Once Aryll graduates, we’re leaving the city.”

Dorian simply nodded.

“Don’t worry,” he started. “I’ll be sure to come by once in a while to bug you.”

Dorian smiled. “Right.”

“And I got more shit than I need to take with me,” he continued. He pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “I thought you might want these.” He passed it to Dorian with a shrug. “We have plenty, and I don’t care for your ugly mug.”

Dorian opened the envelope and pulled out the photos inside. The image on top showed a young Rusl and Dorian. They both had a beer in hand and were dressed in their uniforms. Rusl was flipping the camera the bird while Dorian seemed to be mid eye-roll. He smiled down at the picture, then proceeded to flip through them. There were various other pictures, including some of him and his wife, and all three of them together. There was even one of Rusl with Dorian’s daughters. Cottla was on his shoulders, though he was crouched down on Koko’s level while she tried to get at her younger sister.

“Who knew he was such a sucker for kids?” Link said.

“I called him out on that once,” Dorian said. He frowned. “He punched me.”

Link turned away. He studied the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. “I know everything,” he said softly. “I know that he… he didn’t plan on coming back.”

Dorian was quiet for a moment. His voice was soft when he spoke. “There was nothing you could have done. You never would have been able to utilize your full power as long as he lived. It has been that way since the very beginning. The spirit of the hero manifests only in the one worthy of the Triforce. The one with extraordinary qualities that make a hero. And, in turn, it takes two extraordinary people to bring such a being into the world. A part of that spirit rest within your parents. And as long as that part of the hero was there, you would be unable to utilize your full power, especially without the aid of the Master Sword. It has been that way for each and every hero before you and will continue on. That’s just the way it is.”

Link looked down at the counter. “I wish… it didn’t have to be that way.”

Dorian glanced at him. “I know.” He sighed. “For what it’s worth, I was on your side. I tried to stop him.”

Link’s lips pulled into a small smile. “And all this time, I thought you weren’t on my side.”

“Yeah, well.” Dorian sighed. “I have a lot of regrets. But everything I did was to keep you and Aryll safe. And, once in a while, keep your damn father alive. Hylia knows he didn’t make that easy for me.”

“Yeah. I know.” He stood and turned to Dorian. “Well, thanks for everything. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Sure.”

“See you around, D.”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered.

Link grinned and left him alone in the bar.

*****

To his dismay, there were two extra women in his house when he returned home. Aryll, Mipha, Cremia, and Anju were sitting around the table, each with their own bowl of ice cream, and Cremia was in mid sob as she spoke to her friends. She paused when Link entered, then seemed to forget about whatever crisis she was facing, beaming at Link cheerfully.

“Well, look who it is,” she said in greeting.

“So,” Anju started. “Are we done talking about the bastard that cheated on you?”

Cremia sighed and put her chin in her hand. “This is not how I planned on spending my first day as a senior,” she said.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t fuck in the bathroom,” Aryll said dryly. “But you’ll have all year to be disgusting.”

“Please,” Cremia said. “I’m classier than that.”

“I don’t think you are,” Anju said.

“I missed this,” Cremia said. “I’m glad you’re not mysteriously on the lam anymore.”

“Yeah,” Anju started. “So, you’re really not going to explain that, like, at all?”

“I told you,” Aryll insisted. “We were on… vacation.”

“You went on vacation,” Cremia started, “with your brother and his girlfriend?” She grinned at Link. “What a buzzkill.” She then turned her attention to Mipha. “You could have dumped her on us.”

“Why?” Link started. “So you could get drunk and crash another car?”

Cremia slouched in her chair. “Oh, you remember that, huh?”

“You’re lucky we went on vacation after that,” Aryll said with a grin. “He would have gone all Hulk on you, otherwise.”

“Hulk?” Anju echoed.

Aryll dismissed her with a wave of her hand. She put a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. “So, how are we getting revenge on that dick?” she asked, changing the subject. “You can’t let this first day define the rest of the year. You gotta put him in his place and make him regret the day he was ever born.”

“You are in the perfect place to destroy his entire senior year,” Anju added in agreement. “We have to take advantage of that.”

“Wow,” Link muttered. “Is that what women really do?”

“You should have seen what we came up with when you and Mipha were broken up,” Aryll said casually.

Link glanced at Mipha, and she shook her head, but grinned.

“She’s pretty twisted,” Aryll said. “I wouldn’t piss her off if I were you.”

“Trust me,” Link started. “I know.”

“Anyway,” Aryll continued. “We gotta make this year epic. Really go out with a bang.”

“Not a car crash,” Link added.

Aryll ignored her brother. “Because after this, I’m ditching this joint.”

Anju frowned. “You guys are really moving out of the city?”

Aryll nodded. “Well, they are. I haven’t decided where I’m going, yet. I’ve got my pick of colleges.”

“Remind me how that happened, again?” Cremia asked suspiciously. “Last year, you were pretty sure you weren’t going to college.”

“I changed my mind,” Aryll said. “I’ll earn some money stripping or something. That was the plan all along, really.”

“Makes sense,” Cremia confirmed with a nod.

“Or,” Anju started. “Hear me out. Scholarships.” She grinned.

“Well, sure, there’s that,” Aryll said. “But I liked my plan, better.”

“So, are we getting pizza?” Link asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “I’m thinking pepperoni?”

“I don’t want to look at another pizza for the rest of my life,” Mipha sneered at him. “I am so sick of pizza!”

“We need a divorce,” Link said.

“I can’t believe she just said that,” Aryll said with a grin. “Next thing you know, she’ll tell us we can’t have peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”

“You are both hopeless,” Mipha said, shaking her head. She took the empty bowls. “Don’t you have a summer project to do?” she asked Aryll.

“Yes, mother,” Aryll hissed.

“How come you got an extension?” Cremia whined.

“I met special circumstances,” Aryll said simply.

“Your month long vacation is a special circumstance?” Cremia raised a skeptical brow at her.

“I don’t think they were on vacation,” Anju said.

“Probably witness protection or something,” Cremia said, rolling her eyes.

Aryll laughed. “Right. That’s it.” She stood. “Are you going to help me bullshit this project or what?”

Cremia sighed. “So, I guess we’re done talking about me?”

“You’re never done talking about you,” Anju said dryly.

“We’ll come up with our revenge plan while we work.”

“You know,” Cremia started. “I did my project. Why should I have to help you?”

“You called that a project?” Anju said. “It was pathetic.”

“You’re gonna help me because you almost killed me,” Aryll reminded her.

“I could have died, too, you know.” Still, she followed Aryll and Anju upstairs, leaving Mipha and Link alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t remember high school being that dramatic.”

“We were too busy fighting Ganondorf’s minions,” Link said. “We had our own drama.”

Mipha smiled. “Wow. I feel really, really old. I can’t believe that was like, ten years ago.”

“Yeah,” Link started. “I think I’m already getting gray hairs.” He pulled at a few strands. “This one is Aryll, and this one is Mipha. And look, here’s a bunch more Arylls. Hm. Way more Arylls than there are Ganondorfs.”

Mipha pushed his arm playfully. “You know,” she started. “It will be nice to finally have a house to ourselves.”

“Where should we go?” Link asked. He grinned. “The world is our oyster.”

[jchb32273]

Fictober 2019 - Day 5

Fanfiction - Dragon Age AO3 Link

Still a day late... hope to catch up soon!! Nevertheless, hope you enjoy...

I Might Just Have To Kiss You

~~~~~

Alistair stood at the entrance to the large gymnasium on campus. There was a large fundraiser and donation going on to help the poor of Denerim for the holiday season. Canned and boxed goods, blankets, warm clothing… they were all being sorted and organized by people.

He saw Bull carrying some of the heavier boxes, Dorian by his side as usual. Fenris, Morrigan, Anders, Isabela, and Hawke were all helping to sort clothing for male, female, and child sizes. There were a few other people he knew, Dagna and Sandal, two young dwarves, were folding blankets. At the far end of the gym, Leliana and dorm mother Wynne were both collecting money.

Behind them, clipboard in hand and organizing the whole affair… was Kylara.

Alistair couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Like a thirsty man in a desert, he gazed at her as though she were an oasis filled with fresh water. It had been three weeks since the dinner party at Maric’s and she still had not called or texted him.

I know I said I’d give her time, but this complete radio silence is driving me crazy. He watched her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed her glasses up with her index finger. Such simple gestures, but they gave him a funny ache in his chest. What is it about her? Why can I not stop thinking about her?

He shifted the large box that he’d been resting on one hip. Guess I should drop off my donations and maybe see if she will be willing to talk to me. No time like the present. He moved the box so that it was now supported by both of his hands and headed into the gym. He approached all three women.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he gave a smile, but when Kylara didn’t look up, it faded a bit. “I, um… have a donation to offer.” Alistair set the box on the ground.

Leliana walked up to him. “Oh, thank you, Alistair.” He could hear her putting emphasis on his name, but Kylara continued to stare at her clipboard. He saw Leli sigh. She then looked through the box. “Why, these clothes look brand new! Are you sure you want to donate these?”

“Yes. I don’t need them. They will better serve those who go without in this cold weather.” He then pulled out his wallet and handed several large bills to Wynne. “Here, I hope this helps as well.”

Wynne counted the amount and gasped. “Well, this is most generous of you, young man. This will benefit many needy people. Thank you very much!”

Alistair continued to stand there in silence, staring at Kylara. Finally, he took those few steps towards her. “Kylara?” He saw her hands tighten on the clipboard. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes, she does,” Leliana said, taking matters into her own hands. She snapped the clipboard out of my hands. “You’ve been working since early morning. Take a break already.” She then shoved me towards Alistair.

I immediately stumbled and fell forward. Alistair quickly caught me. Then he saw what had caused me to trip. Someone had tied my shoelaces together. Anger bubbled under the surface as he knelt down and carefully began to undo the knots.

“Sera!” Leliana bellowed. An elf with short-cropped hair giggled like mad as she ran out of the gym. “That girl is such a troublemaker!” Leli sighed and asked, “Kylara? Are you all right? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice she’d done that.”

“I’m fine,” I grumbled. “I’m used to this by now.”

Alistair had finished undoing the knots and had retied the laces of my sneakers properly. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it,” he said. “They shouldn’t treat you this way, especially when you work so hard!”

I looked up at Alistair, my eyes shiny with unshed tears. “What do you want, Alistair? I have a lot of work to do…”

“Please, take a walk with me?” Alistair asked quietly.

“Oh, all right.”

I let him lead me to the back of the gym, where there were several storage closets, small offices, and the entrances to the locker rooms. There, in the dark hallway, he stopped. “I know I said I’d wait for you to call or text me, Kylara, but… three weeks and I hear nothing from you. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Why?” I murmured. “Is it because I still have your jacket? I have it in the ‘Not To Donate’ box by Wynne…”

“My… oh. No, it isn’t because of that.” He took a deep breath and then said, “It is because I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I just stared at him. “Why?” I asked again. “What is so special about me?! I am persona non grata here! I am the butt of everyone’s jokes! They keep telling me I am nothing but a waste of space…”

“And yet here you are, single-handedly organizing this fund-raiser and collection drive for the poor! To me, that speaks of drive, dedication, determination.”

“No one will remember it was me who did all of this. They’ll likely give all the credit to Leliana. She was out there verbally announcing it on the school radio station. I was just the quiet nerd in the background with a clipboard in my hand…”

“Kylara, why do you let them drag you down like this? You know it was you who did all of this. You should have pride in that accomplishment! You are a top student here! I have heard teachers speak very highly of you here on campus. Even my professors are hoping to get you in their classes once you advance! That speaks volumes about the kind of person you really are! You have friends who care too. Cullen, Leliana… even my bandmates all speak highly of you now. It took them a while to warm up to you, yes… but once they got to know you…”

He took a deep breath and then said, “Then there is me. I know there is something special about you… and I… I have come to care for you. A great deal, in fact. You are my friend, but lately… lately, I have started thinking that maybe I want a little more than just friendship…”

Once again, Zevran’s warning popped into my mind and I shivered. Maybe it was because Maric didn’t approve of me… and he used Zevran to try and scare me away? “B-but what about your… father? I know he doesn’t appr- ”

Alistair’s eyes glinted. “I don’t care what he thinks. He may be half of the biological contribution that gave me life, but he didn’t raise me. I was one who took care of myself all of those years… so as far as I am concerned, he doesn’t get any say about this part of my life.”

“But…”

“But nothing. It hurts me to hear you talk down about yourself. I want you to give serious thought about giving me a chance to prove…” he trailed off and briefly looked behind me.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Mistletoe. There, on the door behind you.” I glanced behind me and saw he spoke true. There was a sprig attached to the office door I’d been leaning against. My hair must have been covering it before. Alistair gave me a gentle smile and murmured, “I’ll take that as a sign. I might just have to kiss you now…” He slowly lowered his face down to mine.

I kept thinking that I should move; that I shouldn’t encourage this… but instead, my eyes closed and I waited.

It seemed to take an eternity, but then I felt his lips brush against mine in a feather-light kiss. I felt him pull away and at first, was a little disappointed... but then his lips came back, this time pressing in a bit firmer. Now I gasped a tiny bit and my lips parted, giving him even more access. He took his time, each caress of his mouth against mine making my breath hitch and my heart pound. Never before had anything affected me so profoundly.

After what seemed an eternity, yet was probably no more than a few minutes, he slowly pulled away from me. I felt slightly dizzy and could hardly focus my eyes on his face. He seemed to be feeling something similar because I saw him swallow a couple of times, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Finally, he whispered, “I… hope that wasn’t too soon. Maker’s Breath, but that was… amazing. You are amazing, Kylara.” He brushed his lips against mine one more time. “Now I know I want more… and I hope you will be willing to give us a try.” He took a step back and gently touched the side of my face. “You deserve it.”

We headed back to the main part of the gymnasium. Alistair gave my hand a quick squeeze and quietly said to me, “I have to get going now, but I hope I might hear from you later.” He then reached down and took his tux jacket out of the box I had spoken of.

“Thank you again for your generous donations, young man,” Wynne said.

Alistair nodded. “You are very welcome.” Then he left the gym.

Back in his car, he sat behind the wheel thinking about the soft kiss he’d just shared with Kylara. Heat bloomed in his cheeks and a grin spread on his face. Just then a scent wafted up to his nose. Roses and vanilla. He picked up his tux jacked and sniffed again. It smelled like her. His smile grew even wider.

Just then his phone chirped, indicating a text message. He carefully put his jacket down and got his phone out of his jeans pocket.

It was one word, but it made his heart thump in his chest.

Yes.