#so treat this as a prompt if you're looking for inspiration 😊

[lylyisbored]

Yesterday I had an idea for an Saltburn au and it's driving me nuts bc I'm not a writer but I want to read this and here's the gist:

So there's a brazilian movie called The Second Mother that I watched ages before Saltburn and it's about a housemaid that lives with/works for a wealthy family in a big city (they're not rich rich like the Cattons they're upper middle class or smth), while her family lives at a small town in the northeast with the money she sends them and one day her daughter (who resents her for her absence) moves into the family's house to apply for an admission exam at a university there and tension arises.

Anyway, it's s a completely different film from Saltburn in theme, style and budget BUT I just suddenly remembered this film and started thinking what if Paula Quick was in the same situation? Working at the Saltburn state as one of the maids or even in a role similar to Duncan and she hasn't seen her children in years but acts as second mother to Felix, Venetia and Farleigh (Felix is her favorite ofc) then one day Oliver calls all of sudden after ignoring her calls for years to tell her he's moving in with her and is going to apply for Oxford.

So she asks Elspeth permission to let him stay for a while in a room next to hers and Elspeth is probably like of course honey it's no bother you're practically family and then Oliver arrives and omg she doesn't even recognize him he's so grown up (in the film she hadn't seen her daughter face to face since she was a toddler) but he calls he by her name instead of mom and he's polite but colder than she remembers and when he learns she lives at her job he's mortified bc he thought she had her own place and then sees the house and is absolutely gobsmacked bc he didn't expect this.

He eventually starts getting comfortable and questioning things which makes her nervous bc she doesn't want him to "forget his place" and at first Felix is a little jealous of him bc he's Paulas actual son and he's shy but not a pushover like he thought he would be, but eventually they end up getting on "like a house on fire" and Felix gets him to move to the room next to his therefore away from her and she starts worrying bc she sees the family starting to treat him as their new pet and she knows where that leads.

And what if the Quicks aren't even from another state but straight up Irish, so Oliver gets to have Barry's accent, (especifically from a irish small/rural town) or smth like it and I imagine this version of Oliver is still manipulative but, also more blunt and less willing to put up with shit. Ooooooh the possibilities!

@lostinsaltburn, @ollieolzzz, @salty-scripture, @im-getting-help, @leiflitter, @coldblooded-angel, @5poiledlittlebrat, @stranger-fucking-danger, @ollieapologist, @slutburn, @w-hikarin, @fuckingwoodfuckingpaneling, @themazescene, @saltburn-bi, @rhaegang

[sugairsstuff]

Hi saw you're looking to write stories and was hoping to send some inspiration your way! I am a sucker for "Who did this to you?" Trope and I'm just in need of more Cassian from ACOTAR on this site. So I'm thinking of a little one-shot story of the reader getting hurt by an ex or a family member she doesn't get along with and the General of the Night Court being Angry about it.

Happy Writing! Can't wait to see what you come up with! 😊

thank you very much for being my first request! and i’d be happy to- sorry if i’m a bit rusty- i hope you enjoy how i approached this prompt!

who did this to you.

cassian x fem reader (a court of thorns and roses)

warnings: mentions of abuse, minor descriptions of violence

summary: you run into an ex who wrongfully treated you, and in his pathetic attempts to beg you for forgiveness he injures you. conflicted, you choose not to tell your mate, both suppressing your right to feel emotional and worried for cassian should he go after the male. but your mate knows you like the back of his hand, and you decide to tell the truth before cassian figures it out himself.

(credit to @cafekitsune for the divider)

You stand at the end of one of the House of Wind’s scarlet-wreathed hallways, thinking only of how grateful you are of your dress’ long sleeves as your left hand rubs your opposing wrist- which throbs with the inevitable purpling of a bruise wrapped around it. Although you know your mate adores when you wear pretty jewelry of all kinds, something tells you that seeing this makeshift bracelet your ex-boyfriend gifted you today in the city would only make your mate’s crimson eyes see redder.

Your chest feels heavy, swirling with a flurry of emotions as you root yourself to the end of this hallway. The sounds of your friends’ voices- laughter- from beyond the grand doorway that stood opposing you overpowered the beating of your heart in your ears, though not the flurry in your chest that leaked into your brain, watering the seeds of your feelings and forging them into thoughts.

Your ex, so unimportant his name isn’t even needed, had ran into you accidentally whilst you were browsing a vendor selling handcrafted bookmarks in the city’s local markets. Once you saw him and made to slip into the crowd in an attempt of avoidance, it was too late, as he was already calling out your name in a tone that began in surprise and evolved into frustation. And when you didn’t look back, worried he wanted to pour his heart out to you, beg for another chance after the wicked ways he’d treated you in your past relationship, he wrapped his hand around your right wrist. He tugged you back, ignoring your sharp shout of both warning and shock as the crowd meandered past you without sparing second glances.

You didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying, your mind already in a frenzied panic as his grip only got tighter the more you tried to pull your wrist back to the safety of your side. His pleading, persuasive tone betrayed the vice-like hold he had on your wrist as he tried to force you to hear him out, hear his babbling of apologies and promises ‘to change’ and ‘to be better’.

By the time you had wrenched your wrist free, so desperate to simply get out of there, your response you threw at him was only a brief shout to leave you alone that came out more shaky than you were going for. Forgetting all your other leisurely plans for the day, you trekked back to the House of Wind, gripping your aching wrist and blinking tears back as you stared at the ground a few paces ahead of your swiftly moving boots.

So now you stand at the end of this hallway.

Thinking.

While your ex himself is old business, the encounter with him had resurfaced memories with him that left a bad taste in the back of your mouth. But they are old memories, you tell yourself to try and convince yourself there is no need to tell Cassian. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, the bruise would heal, and Gods above did you not want to send your mate on a warpath with the destination of wherever your ex lives. As much as you wouldn’t mind seeing he who does not deserve a name get what he actually deserves, you didn’t want Cassian paying the consequences for his actions. You nod to yourself in self-assuring confirmation of your decision.

You’re startled out of your head with the sudden worry you’ve been caught standing and staring at nothing like a lunatic. You glance around to ensure no person nor shadow was lurking, exhaling in small relief as you can’t think of a reasonable enough sounding excuse for your current behaviour. Don’t mind me, just contemplating the meaning of life! You scoff to yourself at your own weak joke, and move forwards until you reach the large double doors.

When you enter, familiar faces turn up to greet or smile at you from their places on the lounge room’s velvet sofas.

“There she is. You’re welcome for babysitting your whining mate, believe me when I say he’s been waiting for you the entire time in here to return from your devastatingly long two hour journey into the city.” Rhysand smirks, joking elaborately in a playful jab at his brother, with one of his hands tangled with Feyre’s in her lap- who sat nearly next to him but mostly on top of him.

“We were just wondering where you were.” Feyre jumps in to avoid the brothers getting into a back-and-forth bicker about clinginess. Her blue eyes twinkle like stars as she leans forwards a little, “So, how much did you spend today?” the female grins, looking too much alike to her mate.

You make your way to Cassian’s side immediately, standing next to the large armchair he was sprawled in rather than accepting his soft invites into his lap. He reaches over to you with both a wing and hand, the former brushing your back and the latter reaching to graze against your fingers. Placing a smile on your face comes easy as you look to Feyre, “Hate to disappoint, I only bought fresh ink and a new book.” you tell her, patting the small leather bag that rests against your hip as your excuse to move your hand away from Cassian’s. One small displacement of your sleeve would leave you having explaining to do, which you really would prefer to avoid.

Feyre whines a complaint in how you need to treat yourself more often to luxuries- as if this family hasn’t done that enough for you- before her attention switches to the male sitting below you, “Aw, sorry, Cassian, am I stealing all the attention away from you?” she teases.

You look down at your mate to see the pout on his pretty lips that elicited Feyre’s joke. One look at him, and you can tell him missing your presence wasn’t actually what was bothering him. Instead, his gaze was focused on the hand you had, apparently not subtly enough, moved away from him. Damn you for underestimating how well your mate knows you.

Cassian’s brows furrows ever so slightly as he looks up at you, a few raven black strands falling free from its messily half-tied state, appearing as though he were deeply pondering something. He looks as though he wants to say something, most likely ask why you’re acting oddly, though instead he rises to his feet and his hand lifts to brush not your hand but gently against your cheek.

Grinning, Cassian turns to Feyre and Rhysand, “Well, call me now the thief of the thief,” he shoots back equally as playfully to the High Lady, “I think we’ll be off so I can give my mate a properly informal greeting,” he jests, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at the two as he stole you away using a large, calloused hand centred on the small of your back.

You know better, though, this is simply Cassian’s way of preventing you from being put on the spot in front of two pairs of prying eyes. Cassian led you through the House of Wind’s corridors, pace slowing to make up for your lack of height in comparison to the Illyrian.

“How was your day, baby?” Cassian asks, his tone too soft for your liking right now. He’s testing the waters, you are well aware, both trying to solidify his feeling something was off and see if you are okay.

“It was fine,” you tell him honestly- well, all the parts without your ex in it. You fail to meet Cassian’s eye, afraid that if you do your mate will see right through you and know for certain you are upset. But this response only makes your mate fall quiet for a beat too long, something rare for the extroverted, energetic warlord. You hear Cassian suck in a breath as you turn a corner, and in moments he’s opening the large carved wooden door to your expansive chambers for you.

Cassian kicks the door shut gently before turning to you. You untie your boots and pull them off before he has the chance to offer to do so himself, and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. To avoid Cassian getting straight to the point and asking if something is amiss, you deflect before anything is sent, “I’m going to go run a bath. The place’s staircase is brutal,” you joke, speaking without thinking as you notice Cassian perk up a tad.

The male looks more relieved in his body language though apprehensiveness lingers in his gaze as he turns to you with a boyish smirk, “Am I invited to that event?” your mate tries.

You know you pause for a second too long as Cassian’s expression falls slightly and he begins to reel back his comment with something with just as much lightheartedness as there was worry for you, “Or shall I leave the lady to her flowery bubblebath and soap?”

You frown and shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay, I want you to come.” Normally, you’d make a sexual joke to lure him in the hot, soapy water with you, but the burden that Cassian will inevitabley discover exactly what is making things not okay in minutes was leaning over you.

“Okay,” is all Cassian responds with, and you inwardly cringe at how clear it is how simultaneously unsure and sure he is that something is bothering you. That heavy feeling in your chest returns, settling back to where it sat in that hallway as now you feel guilty for confusing your mate over such a small, meaningless encounter with a hostile ex. Or so you tell yourself.

It’s as if a tether is attached to that weight in your chest, giving a comforting tug that pulls some of it off of your lungs. You look up to Cassian, knowing that tether was instead that special little string that tied the beautiful bow of your bond. Your mate looks much more serious now as his deep red eyes flicker with concern, though he still speaks softly, “Come on. That bath’s calling our names.”

You stand rather than sit in the large bathroom as Cassian leans over the luxurious tub, hand testing the water as he makes sure it’s set to the temperature you like the most. You make no move to begin undressing, your arms wrapped tightly around you. The bruise no longer throbs as it sits untouched, but you’re still painfully aware of it.

Cassian eventually turns to you, his large wings extending slightly as he approaches you. Seeing as you are still undressed, his hand traces its way around your waist where two of his fingers catch the string of the dress’ corset, “May I?” he asks, though there are no lustful undertones in the warlord’s deep voice, despite him preparing to strip his lover in front of a steaming bath.

You nod up at him, but place a hand on his wrist before he makes a move. Cassian’s gaze flicks to yours immediately. His brows pinch upwards slightly in gentle questioning.

“Just- don’t freak out. Don’t panic. Okay?” you say vaguely, and watch as Cassian’s expression only becomes more worried. “Cassian.” you say, more sternly.

“You’re scaring me here,” he says, your name trailing at the end of his sentence rather than one of his more playful pet names. When you only look up at him with a pleading gaze, Cassian gives in with a sigh, “Okay.”

Your mate commences, tugging the dress loosely ever so gently. You can tell he’s alert as he stands over you, his wings and scent engulfing you as he peels off your day dress. You watch his face closely as he watches your body. Any other day, and you knew what you’d find there- sweet, honey-dripping lust and warm, intimate love as more of your figure is exposed to him. Right now, though, his brow is furrowed, and he’s looking at every inch of your skin, scanning you for what exactly your warning meant.

Cassian gently tugs the sleeves of the dress off of your arm. His crimson gaze looks to your left wrist, and then to your right wrist.

And then Cassian goes rigid.

You never understood how eyes could darken like the ways they were described to in all the books Nesta reads, but watching your mate now- now you fully understand. Leaning over you, eyes unmoving from the splotchy purple markings around your wrist, you watch as lethal anger fills his vision, you see your mate see exactly the colour of his eyes as pure, vicious anger seeps into his blood and runs it cold.

“Who.” Cassian’s voice is low, quiet. You blink at the husky, nearly strangled-sounding word that your mate managed out. “Who did this to you.” he says, his eyes finally meeting yours, and you see that the look in them has changed only slightly- just enough to show you it is far from you that Cassian is angry at.

You look down, your eyes stinging suddenly as tears brim your eyes and you have no idea why. You don’t answer, so Cassian speaks for you, tone low though not harsh towards you, “Was it him?”

You nod, and open your mouth to speak and curse yourself for stumbling over your words, “We ran into each other at the market earlier. He- he grabbed me, Cass, and he wouldn’t let go. I was so scared. I just ran.” you manage, feeling the cool trail of a tear drip down your cheek. The sight of that alone was enough for Cassian.

He curses, stepping back from you as his wings flare. “I am going to kill him. I swear to every God above, he’s a fucking dead male walking.” Cassian growls, both of you having completely forgotten about your planned bath together as he paces the bathroom like a prowling predator, as if he were plotting right now all the ways he’d make that male suffer.

You move towards him then, tears still running down your cheeks as you set your right hand on his arm, feeling how tight and tense the muscles beneath are. “No, Cassian,” you tell him, “you can’t. Don’t go after him, please, Rhysand can’t play favourites no matter what you do to him,” you tell him.

Cassian looks down at you, the fury in his gaze swirling and settling and then slipping away. He sighs, moving his own two hands to cup your cheeks gently. The large male uses his thumbs to brush away your tears. “Okay.” he says, sounding almost reluctant. “But I still can’t let him get away with this. I won’t.” Cassian tells you, his tone stern yet not harsh in an assurance that he would not let this happen to you ever again. He pulls you close to his chest, wrapping both his arms and wings around you, cocooning you in warmth. Cassian strokes your hair, letting you smoosh your cheek against his chest and listen to his slowed, steady heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” Cassian eventually murmurs once your tears have ceased, earning a small snort and then, blissfully, a laugh from you.

“Don’t worry, I just would rather only him being arrested then both of you.” you respond, and now it’s Cassian’s turn to chuckle. He releases you from his anchoring hold. “We can talk to Rhysand tomorrow, yeah? About the political and civil way to get him punished.” Cassian huffs, emphasizing his words in a joke.

You roll your eyes as you finish undressing, “Oh, yes, how very boring.”

Cassian only grins back at you, joining you once you climb into the tub and pulling you back against his chest, one hand interlocking with yours as he frowns momentarily at the bruising. “My idea of killing him is still up for grabs, though,” he hums.

“Cassian.”

[seidenbros]

Ok.. you are the BEST WITCHER WRITER OUT THERE !!! Seriously, your posts are fabulous and they make me so happy! ❤

So I take the advantage and shoot something over again 😊 Let’s go for another Geralt one (cause come on he’s a bomb). Maybe where you’re a couple and traveling with him and it’s all fine until he meets Yennefer again so you start getting jealous somehow and feel in the way as you see how they react with each other. So you leave the camp one night to clear your mind when the other sleep, but you get attacked and hurt. When Geralt sees you’re not there as he wakes up he freaks out and searches you, just to find you barely hanging on. Then he tries all to save you and realizes that his behavior was not the best but you are the one for him forever? Is that weird ? I hope not haha I looove fluffy Geralt so much ! (also I really hope I don't annoy you with sending another idea)

First of all: Let me love you!

Second of all: your message really made my day/week/month

Thirdly: You don't annoy my in the slightest with sending another idea, I always LOVE these messages, so you're always welcome to send something in 💚

Then I have to apologise that it took me so long to write this, but covid really had me down for more than a week and I'm still exhausted rather quickly, but at least I'm able to write. And writing this was so much fun, even with all the angst woven in, so I really hope you enjoy it 💚

(Requests are open, and if you need inspiration, there are some prompt lists to be found)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Warnings: bit of blood and violence, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

Word count: 3188

____________

Only in the darkness can you see the stars

“Well, well if it isn't my favourite Witcher.”

You hear a voice behind you and turn around only to be met with the most mesmerising eyes. She didn't have to introduce herself, you knew who she was. Yennefer of Vengerberg. The two of you had never met before, but you'd heard stories – some had been told by Geralt himself, but not all of them. Yennefer wasn't a topic he spoke about frequently, but you knew who she'd been to him.

Geralt turned with you, but let go of your hand. Whether it was due to turning around or because of Yennefer, you didn't know, but you had a weird feeling about this.

“Yennefer,” he said with a tone in his voice that was usually reserved for you. The smile that lit up his face was a rare occasion as well. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm staying with a friend for a few days before I move on. What about you?”

“Just passing through. Hoping to get a room for the night.” You'd just arrived and hadn't yet had the chance to ask for a room at an inn, but that was next on your agenda.

“I think you're out of luck. They're all booked. There's an event tonight, so there are no rooms left.”

“Fuck.” Geralt sighed and pinched the back of his nose. He didn't have a problem with setting up camp for the night, but after weeks on the road, you certainly deserved a nice, warm bed.

“And you are travelling together?” Yennefer pulled him back from his thoughts and looked at you, a warm smile on her lips.

“Right, sorry,” Geralt apologised, putting his hand between you shoulderblades as if to push you forward a little bit. “This is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Yennefer of Vengerberg,” you finished the sentence for him, as if you'd just found your own voice again. “I've heard a lot about you on my travels. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Maybe, that was an exaggeration, because you didn't know what to make of this situation, but you were certainly curious to get to know her a little bit better, see what all the fuss was about.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Yennefer replied, still keeping her smile in place. “You should join me for dinner, catch up. My treat!”

Geralt didn't even look at you before he agreed. You weren't mad at him, in fact, this sounded like a good opportunity to get to know her better, but you wished that he would have at least asked you before agreeing.

In the end, the dinner with Yennefer wasn't exactly something you wanted to repeat. Most of the time, you felt like you were in the way of the two of them. Now and then Yennefer asked you something, and while you were happy to answer her questions, you felt like Geralt pretty much ignored you, his eyes on Yennefer the whole time. It was understandable, she was beautiful after all and the two of them had a certain history, but you just wished that you didn't have to witness this. Geralt could have gone without you, or could have told you that you're just the second choice next to her, because it certainly felt like it.

You didn't blame Yen at all, because she was wonderful to you. Geralt on the other hand... It was painful to say the least.

Only when you'd said goodnight to Yennefer and were on your way back out of town to set up camp, did he speak to you.

“You've been awfully quiet tonight. Is everything alright?”

You couldn't see the worried look on Geralt's face, because you weren't able to look at him right now, tears brimming in your eyes, so you just sped up a little bit.

“Yeah, just tired. I need some sleep.”

It was the perfect moment to tell him what was going on in your head, how you were feeling, how he'd made you feel, but you kept your mouth shut. Right now, you weren't sure whether your feelings were valid, or if you were making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, if Geralt still wanted to be with Yennefer, he wouldn't be here with you, right? Well... you still had some doubts about it.

“Mhh,” Geralt simply responded, but kept his eyes on you, watched you intently. He knew that something was up, but he didn't know what. He'd give you some time, because pestering you about it wouldn't get him an answer.

Without a word you set up camp and tried to not look at Geralt. As soon as he'd lit the fire, you got in your bedroll and took a deep breath.

“Good night, Geralt.”

“Good night, sweet one.”

Usually this term of endearment made you smile and steal another kiss before bed, but not tonight. Your head simply wouldn't shut up about Geralt and Yennefer and it was driving you mad. You tried your best to fall asleep, but even after hours, you hadn't succeeded. Geralt on the other hand was lying peacefully on his back, fast asleep. For a moment, you watched him, but that didn't help you at all. You needed to clear your head, so you got up, wrapped your cloak around your shoulders and walked towards the stream. Being near the water had always helped you calm down, so you were hoping that it would do the same this time.

Fresh, cool night air filled your lungs when you took a deep breath and sat down on the stones next to the water. The moon was reflected in the water and for a moment you found yourself simply watching it. You tried to clear your head, think of nothing, but it didn't really work. Instead, your eyes filled with tears again. You didn't want to cry, but you couldn't keep them from coming. You'd thought that you were happy with Geralt, that he loved you, but right now, you weren't sure. Not after you'd seen the way he'd looked at Yennefer.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes, until you heard water splashing and what sounded like footsteps. Immediately, your eyes opened again, you scanned your surroundings, but couldn't see anything.

“Hello? Geralt?” you called out, but it wasn't Geralt you saw a moment later.

Geralt woke with a start because he heard a scream. It couldn't be far away. It didn't take him long to see that your bedroll was empty, and immediately his stomach plummeted. His initial fear had been that it had been your voice he'd heard, and right now, he was pretty sure that he'd been right. Without wasting any more time, he got up and reached for his sword before he followed the noises.

What he saw when he got there, sent his blood boiling. There was too much blood, your blood, and you weren't moving. A drowner was leaning over you, but looked up when it heard Geralt. He lunged at the beast, tore it away from you, before he went completely berserk and slashed the monster into pieces. He was full of rage – some of it directed at himself for not asking you what was really going on with you and for not realising sooner that you were gone.

He was covered in the drowner's blood, when he came back to you, carefully looked you over, and swore under his breath. He could hear your heartbeat, slow and weak, but it was still there, so not all hope was lost. Your injuries were bad, and there was only so much he would be able to do. Geralt needed help, and he knew just the person he could ask.

With you in his arms, he quickly ran back to your campsite, managed to get you both on top of Roach to get you back to the town. He knew where Yennefer's friend's house was, so he hastened to get there.

“Yen!” he yelled even before he'd gotten off Roach, not a care in the world whether he woke up the neighbours. “Yennefer! I need help!” He yelled again, gathering you up, before he brought you to the door. Before he reached it, it already opened, and Geralt sent a prayer to Melitele,

“Are you out of your fucking mind, you moron?” Yennefer asked him in a hushed voice, tying her robe around her, before she cast a look around, but it didn't look like anyone had woken up apart from her. Then her eyes fell on you and she froze. “What happened?” Suddenly awake and sober, she ushered Geralt inside and into one of the rooms.

“Drowner,” he managed to say, carefully putting you down, his eyes never leaving your body. “I knew something was up, but I didn't want to push her to talk to me. And then she left the campsite in the middle of the night.”

“You really are a moron, Geralt.” Yennefer sighed, before she pulled your ripped clothes aside to get a better look at your injuries, but then decided to cut them off your body, because she needed better access to your body.

“What do you mean?”

“You pretty much ignored her all evening and you're wondering what is wrong?” Yennefer shook her head at the blatant ignorance of that man.

“That's not true,” Geralt objected. Or was it? Right now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

“If you say so... this is not the moment to start a discussion. Get me some clean water. Now!”

Geralt did as he was told and assisted Yennefer as much as he could. He couldn't lose you. Not now, not like this, especially because he blamed himself for everything that had happened tonight. It was his fault that you were here, that you were injured, had nearly lost your life. Yennefer was right, he hadn't paid attention to you all evening, too focused on the mage, because it had been some time since they'd last seen each other.

“Come now.” Yennefer's voice ripped him from his thoughts, her hand on his forearm made him look at her. “She needs some rest, and you need a bath my friend. When she waked up and sees you like this, she'll probably faint.”

When, not if. That one word already made the tension in Geralt's shoulder ease a little bit. Yennefer was right. He was covered in guts and blood, some of it yours, and he didn't want to scare you away as soon as you woke up.

After a bath, after washing off all the dirt and guts and blood, Geralt tried to get some sleep. He stayed close to you, where he could keep an eye on you, but at one point, exhaustion took over and he really fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke to a wonderful smell that made his stomach growl. Slowly, he sat up, but before he went and followed that delicious smell, he came to your side. You looked so peaceful, apart from the bandages around your body, the small scratches in your face. But you were alive, that was everything that mattered right now.

It was hard for him to leave your side, but he had to say thank you to Yennefer, so he left for the kitchen. She'd already prepared two plates with breakfast.

“Good morning,” Geralt said once she turned around to him.

“Morning... You look like shit.” Always the charmer, but her words made Geralt's lips twitch up in a little smile. “Were you able to sleep a little bit?”

“Yes. Not much, but a little.”

Yennefer pushed one of the plates towards him and gestured for him to sit down. She did the same and started eating. After a moment of silently eating, Geralt eventually spoke up.

“I don't know how to thank you, Yennefer.”

“Oh I do,” she said with a smirk and leaned back.

“I was a moron, I admit that.” Geralt knew what she wanted to hear, or at least part of it. “You were completely right. I don't even know why. I should have included her more, but seeing you after so long, was just...”

“Strange. In a good way.” Yennefer nodded, because she felt the same way. They had a past, but they'd separated for a reason. It didn't mean that they couldn't be friends, they just hadn't had the chance to try that until now. “I've seen the way she looks at you. Like you're the one who put all the stars in the sky just for her.”

“If I could... I would do that. She's the most wonderful person I've ever met and she deserves the star.”

“Then tell her that. Make sure that she knows exactly how you feel when she wakes up. And tell her that nothing will ever happen between you and me again. We're better off as... friends. Or whatever you want to call this.” She hid her smile beneath her cup, but Geralt knew that it was there.

“Friends... sounds good.” They'd have to try, see if it worked out, but he agreed that they would never get romantically involved again.

A low moan drew his attention away from Yennefer, making him get on his feet in a matter of seconds. When he got to you, he saw that your eyes were open. Relief flooded his body, even more so when he took your hand in his and felt you give a little squeeze.

“Hey, sweet one,” he said quietly, sat down on the side of the bed and scanned your body. “How are you feeling?”

“Like somebody tried to rip out my insides,” you managed to say, voice coarse. Geralt reached for the water to help you take a sip. You needed some water and especially food and he'd make sure that you got everything you needed.

“That is pretty much what happened. A drowner got to you. I managed to get you here and Yennefer helped you.”

Upon hearing Yennefer's name, you stiffened slightly, took a deep breath. You were thankful to her, of course, and yes, you'd overreacted last night, but hearing her name right now, still managed to get you a little worked up.

“Listen, Y/N, I'm sorry for yesterday. I never wanted to make you feel unwanted or anything like that. I shouldn't have excluded you like I did, and that wasn't my intention at all. Seeing Yennefer again was just like meeting and old friend, and it was kind of exciting to hear what she's done all these years. But that's what we are. Friends.” He had to make sure you understood what he was saying, what he meant with that. “You're the one I love, you're the one I picture my future with.” However that would turn out, he didn't know, and he really didn't want to think about the day, he'd inevitably lose you, because you wouldn't live forever. But he wanted this, wanted one lifetime with you more than an eternity with someone else.

Tears were welling up in your eyes, as you reached out your hand to caress Geralt's cheek.

“I love you, too.” Carefully, you pulled him down to kiss him. “And I'm sorry. I should have said something when you asked me yesterday. But I just thought, I was being irrational about this, but I just couldn't sleep, and-”

“It's okay.” Geralt stopped you, smiled down at you, but leaned in for another kiss, before he kept going. “Just promise me, that you talk to me when something is bothering you next time. I thought I'd lost you, and I didn't know what to do. I don't know what I would do without you.”

“But you saved me. And I'm not going anywhere.” You leaned up to him, wanting to kiss his lips, but the pain in your upper body pulled you back down.

“Easy, sweet one. You still need a lot of rest. Yennefer said we can stay here until you're better. If that is alright with you.” He didn't want to make that decision for you or force you to stay here, but it was the safest option right now.

“It's very generous, and I don't really think I can travel like this. So I'd really like to thank her for that offer.” Now that Geralt and you had talked, you didn't mind staying here with her, because you trusted him. In addition, you'd loved listening to her stories the night before, so you'd enjoy hearing a couple more.

As if she'd heard you, Yennefer appeared at the door with a try laden with breakfast and some herbal tea for you.

“You need some food, and that tea will help as well.” Yennefer walked up to the bed and put down the tray before looking at you again. “It will take some time for you to heal, but it's not as bad as it looks.”

“Thank you,” you said, reaching for her hand. “Really, Yennefer.”

“You wouldn't be here, if it weren't for that idiot, who got you in that situation in the first place.”

Geralt grunted and rolled his eyes. It was all friendly banter, but her words still held some truth.

“If he'd been a bit more considerate of you, this wouldn't have happened.”

Her words managed to make you smile. You were both responsible for what had happened last night, but it wasn't good to dwell on that too long. Instead you'd rather concentrate on the good things.

“Has he always been like this?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Yennefer rolled her eyes, earning another grunt from Geralt. “Why don't you check up on Roach, give us some time to talk?”

He knew that he couldn't win an argument right now, so he got up, placed another kiss on your forehead before he left the two of you alone. He knew that you were in good hands, so he didn't need to worry.

“He really does love you, you know?” Yennefer said when she turned back around to you. “And you don't have to worry about us. We're trying this whole friends thing now, but he's never looked at me the way he looks at you.”

“What do you mean?” Carefully, you sat up a little bit so that you could eat some of that delicious breakfast Yennefer had created.

“Like you're the sun, the moon and the stars all rolled into one. The one thing that lights up his entire being, his whole life.” Yennefer put her hand on top of yours and smiled at you. “You two are meant for each other.”

Yes... yes you really were, because he was all that for you as well. Now even more than before, and your trust, your faith in him had only grown this morning.

[alwaysmypearl]

Hi there 😊

If you're still taking prompts, how about an Everlark story inspired by this gif?

Could be any AU. I just want Katniss to fall for Peeta first 😁😅

Thank you so much! 💓

hi @dandelionlovesyou ! thank you so much for the prompt, I’m so sorry it took me so long. I hope you think it was worth it! ❤️ In Panem, no games universe.

Life at Panem’s School For Girls was rather uneventful. District 12 was one of the few districts to separate their boy and girl students, especially for the purpose of preparing them for trades.

Katniss didn’t mind going to an all girls school. She had a few friends, she did her school work, hunted occasionally, and went home. The only boy Katniss ever saw was Gale, and that was in the woods before school. They were close, and he was well known for being attractive amongst the girls, but Katniss didn’t have time to think about what him being attractive would mean. Regardless, he really had an eye for Madge. They’ve been on a few dates so far, and Katniss was happy for them.

But no one ever caught her eye.

Katniss was a minority in this way though. Because the girls spent all day separated from the boys of their District, Katniss felt like all of the conversations she heard were about boys. Who was the hottest, who asked who to the Harvest Festival, and which one was the most talented athlete.

After the bell rang in the afternoon, Katniss would wait outside in the courtyard for Prim before walking home. The lower school got out a little later than the upper school, so she had time to do homework and hear about the latest 12 gossip from Madge.

“Oh my gosh, Katniss.”

Katniss looked up from her math book to a wide-eyed Madge.

“What?”

“Well, you know how it is my life’s goal to get you a date to the Harvest Festival?”

Katniss groaned. “Madge, we talked about this. I’m not-“

“I know, I know, you say you’re not going. But please just listen! I think I might be able to change your mind.”

Katniss slammed her math book shut and rested her chin on her palm.

“Fine. I’m listening.”

“Everyone, and I mean everyone, has had their eyes on the Mellark boys. Do you know who they are?”

“The baker’s sons?” Katniss’ family wasn’t the poorest among District 12 people, but they usually couldn’t afford the bakery treats. She knew of their family, but never really saw them.

“Yes! Their youngest son, Peeta is in our year. Rumor has it, he’s the only son without a date. He’s turned down every girl that’s asked him.”

“So? Why should I care if he doesn’t have a date?”

“Because! I think you would be perfect for him!”

“What? Madge! If he’s turned down all of the girls who have asked him, what makes you think he wouldn’t turn me down? And what if I don’t even like him?”

“Listen! I’ve talked to him a few times, and he is such a cutie. He’s so sweet, I just know he would warm up your cold heart.” Madge giggled and winked.

In response, Katniss just groaned and rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious, Kitty. All the girls that have asked him out are obnoxious merchant girls. I just think that’s not his speed.”

“Madge, I’ve been in the bakery probably twice in my life. He has no idea who I am.”

“Okay, so you should go today then! Just check him out!”

Katniss was so lost in thought about the Mellark boy that she jumped when Prim suddenly appeared beside their table.

Giddy and giggling, Primrose interjected. “Go where? What boy is Katniss checking out?”

“The youngest Mellark boy, Peeta.”

Primrose gasped. “All the girls have been talking about him! He’s the wrestling champion at the boys school! Katniss, you have to see him, you just have to!”

“I am not seeing anyone! We need to go home, Prim.”

Madge eyed Katniss and then asked Prim, “Don’t you think you could use a sweet on the way home?”

“Yes! Katniss please!” Primrose was now on her knees with her hands clasped together.

“I even got extra goat money this morning. We deserve a treat and you deserve a Harvest Festival date.”

Madge plopped coins down on the table, and Prim grabbed for them while jumping up and down.

“Now you can’t refuse.” Madge gave Katniss a sly grin.

With a groan, Katniss pressed her forehead to the table.

“Fine. Only because I want something chocolate.”

——————————————-

Primrose giggled and skipped the whole walk to the bakery.

“Prim, please look slightly calm when we walk in. If you embarrass me I won’t be able to show my face in town for a week.”

Primrose settled to a slightly hoppy-walk and smoothed her skirt.

“Okay. I’m calm. I’m calm, Katniss.”

A bell jingled as Katniss pulled open the door to the warm bakery.

Before even walking all the way through the door, she noticed a blonde boy icing cupcakes behind the front counter.

He hollered a quick, “Welcome to Mellark’s, I’ll be with you in one moment!” and turned back to his work.

Katniss assumed it was Peeta, because he seemed about her age. His back was to her, but just his silhouette made Katniss’ breath catch in her throat. He was tall and stocky. He had broad shoulders, strong arms, and the most golden curly hair Katniss had ever seen.

She was in trouble.

Primrose eyed Katniss knowingly as they made their way to the counter.

Once they stepped all the way up to the glass case of sweets, Peeta finally turned around to face them and flashed Katniss with a heart stopping smile.

Madge was lying when she said he was a “cutie”. He was gorgeous. Stunning, even.

His eyes were crystal blue. Though Katniss had never seen the oceans of District 4 in real life, Peeta’s eyes were the color that she pictured. His cheeks and jawline were chiseled, and dotted with a few warm freckles. His smile made a queasy, fluttery feeling plague Katniss’ stomach.

Thank god Primrose was with her, because Katniss was speechless.

“Hi! My name is Primrose, but you can call me Prim. This is my sister, Katniss.”

Peeta continued to smile, and Katniss thought she saw his eyes even twinkle.

“Hi, Prim. And hi, Katniss. I’m Peeta. The Everdeens, right?”

Katniss cleared her throat and tried to pull herself back together.

“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, I was told my father and your mother were friends at one time, but I haven’t seen either of you around much.”

“Well, with school and everything we don’t make it to town very often.” Katniss eyed the cookies in the glass case. “Everything looks so delicious here!”

Even you, Katniss thought.

Prim’s giggle broke her out of her admiration of the cookies, and thoughts of Peeta.

“What?” Katniss grumbled as she turned to her sister. When she looked at Peeta, his cheeks began to turn red.

Katniss’ hand clamped over her mouth.

“Oh my god, did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, Katniss!” Primrose continued to laugh so hard she almost fell to the bakery floor, and even Peeta’s shoulders started to shake as he tried to hold in his own laughter.

“It’s really okay, Kat-“

“No! It’s the most embarrassing thing ever!” Katniss felt a blush that rivaled with fire seize her face, and she covered it with her hands.

“Just order, Prim. We have to leave before I say something else stupid.”

Through wheezy laughter, Prim looked up at a very red-faced Peeta and placed her order.

“Can I have two of those cake balls please? And something chocolate for Katniss.”

Peeta shuffled around to collect their treats while Katniss’ stomach twisted in her feet.

I cannot believe I did that. He probably thinks I am so creepy, she thought.

Prim plunked the coins from Madge on the counter as he placed the wrapped treats on top of the case for them. Peeta collected them, punched the number in the register, and handed Prim their receipt and a few coins for change.

“Thank you Peeta. Hope we at least brightened your day.” Prim said sweetly as she collected their treats.

“You brightened my week. I hope to see you both again soon.”

Katniss groaned, “Don’t count on it. I’m so sorry, Peeta.”

“Don’t be. I really would like to see you again. And I hope you’ll like what I picked for you, Katniss.”

Without responding, Katniss turned around and finally tore her hands from her face. Katniss and Prim both bid him thanks and a goodbye, and stepped out of the bakery.

Before walking away from the building, Prim handed Katniss a small white pastry box.

As she looked over the small box, she noticed a note taped to the top.

Katniss,

I hope you like cupcakes, and dandelions.

-Peeta

P.S. I think you look pretty delicious too.

Katniss’ mouth fell wide open, as Prim whisper-screamed at her.

“What did he say?! What did he say, Katniss?!”

Katniss looked back through the bakery window to find the golden boy- arms crossed, leaning back against the counter, staring right back at her.

Her lips turned to a smile as he threw a wink in her direction. Her heart skipped a beat, and she could not hold back the laugh that finally slipped out.

She opened the pastry box to find a chocolate cupcake with a perfectly iced dandelion on it, her favorite flower.

“Prim, I might have to go to the Harvest Festival after all.”