so i heard you're taking requests (that tiktok meme guy where they turn their head while sitting on a chair) viktor x reader, where reader can heal people or reader's parent is part of the council and reader tries to convince their parent to help zaun for viktor and the other zaun citizens OR WHY NOT BOTH?
𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : reader x viktor
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : fluff
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : reader was born with magic, but as a daughter of the council, is forced to keep it secret. after trying to convince them to help zaun, and failing. reader takes matters into their own hands.
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 1.7k
𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : i love this idea!! this is one of my fav Vik requests so far. I also have nfsw Viktor coming out soon y'all, I promise. Anyways, this was so fun to write so I hope you all love it as much I did. i also apologize if there's any mistakes!
You had been born with magical abilities, and you hated that you forced to keep it a secret. No one but your parents knew the truth. They always said that if you told anyone, it would only resort to madness. See, your father was part of the council, and your mother had always been from money. A noble woman.
They had tried to mold you into their lifestyle, a proud citizen of the city of progress. And you were, at one time. Until you met him. Viktor. Who was from the fissures, and told you all about his childhood there. How Piltover never gave a shit about the city below. Though you hadn't seen the issues he spoke of, you cared for him. And he cared for the under city, which meant you cared for his people as well.
So there you stood, in front of the council. Your palms were sweaty as all eyes were focused on you. Each one kept their gaze glued to you, but once your eyes flickered to those amber eyes you adored, you felt your nerves starting to ease.
"We need to help the under city." You spoke, earning some shocked gasps from the council. "The city needs healing. These people have suffered for far too long, it's time we did something."
"We couldn't if we wanted." One of the council men stated, "They have shimmer."
You rose an eyebrow, "Fuck the shimmer. You people do nothing but make piss poor excuses! We need to actually do something."
"Y/n, silence." Your father roared which made you widen your eyes in surprise.
"But we ne-" You started, but were cut off by your father again.
"Zaun isn't our priority." Your father declared.
You glared at him before a moment, before turning on your heels and storming out of the building. If they wouldn't do anything to help, then you had no choice. You couldn't let innocent people suffer, not when you had the ability to help. Even if it took time. You were willing to do whatever it took, which was more than the fucking topside could say.
At this point, you weren't even sure why Viktor chose to stay here. Sure it was "safer" here in Piltover, but the government had grown to be so corrupted. Being a daughter of the council made you very aware of how shitty it was, especially since your parents had big mouths and didn't bother to keep their business private.
"Y/n, wait!" You heard that beautiful accent calling after you.
You stopped, turning to face Viktor who was walking towards as fast as he could. He stumbled over his foot a bit as he did so. His cane smacked the ground quickly. You walked towards him, hoping he would slow down. You were always worried when he tried moving too quickly. Sometimes he got a little carried away.
"Where you going?" He asked, his eyes looking yours in curiosity.
"To do what the council refuses to do." You scoffed, turning to walk towards the bridge.
"Can.. Can I come with? Your proposal was quite moving. I appreciate your willingness to help my people. Most people here wouldn't give it a second thought." He sighed, frowning as he thought about it.
That only deepened the rage you felt with the city, but you didn't want to see him more upset so you let out a deep breath before smiling. "Of course, Vik. Come on."
The two of you walked towards the bridge. You were growing more nervous the closer you got. He had no idea about your powers. You hoped that he didn't see you any different. Sure, he was working with Jayce on the hextech project. But creating magic wasn't the same as being born with it. Most people thought those born with the arcane were terrible people, people who couldn't be controlled.
You then thought back to your parents. They were going to be enraged once they found what you were going to do. Fuck them though, fuck them all. Only opinion mattered to you, and a part of you felt like he wouldn't turn you away even if you had been keeping that part of you secret. He would understand. That's who he was.
Once the two of you crossed the bridge, he led you through the alley until you reached a lift of some sort. You rose an eyebrow, "Vik.. What is this?"
He just chuckled, shaking his head in amusement before flipping the switch. The lift then began to lower, causing you to grab onto his arm. You watched the city you had spent your whole life in get smaller as you descended into the fissures. Your e/c eyes lit up in wonder as you saw how different it was. In it's own way, beautiful.
There were neon signs everywhere, the sound of music and chattering filled your ears. It was darker, but you loved it. You hated the cocktail parties, golden buildings, and overall snootiness of Piltover. This.. this was so much different.
Viktor noticed the look of awe on your face. It made me stare at you, his heart pounding against his chest. All he had heard was people talking poorly of where he was from. He had been scared of your reaction, thinking you would find it scary. But, you looked around as if it was beautiful
And he thought you were beautiful, always had. He was surprised when you had first approached him. He never thought a man like himself would be worthy of catching the attention as perfect as you. He had hiding his feelings for you for the past two years. Scared that you would reject him, that you would go away.
Once it hit the bottom, you were to step off and look around with wide eyes. "Oh my god.. This is where you're from? It's so.. different. I love it."
"Welcome to Zaun." He told you, with a soft smile.
There was loud music blaring from within buildings and people cluttering the street. You saw booths lined up, people selling many different varieties of items. This must be the black market that spoke so much of. The air was thick down there though, you could also see shimmer everywhere.
You walked down the streets. You noticed a little girl laid against a wall, seeming to be sick and on the brink of death. You ran towards her and grabbed her tiny face in your hands. Her breathing was ragged and slow. Her body was pale, almost white. You took a deep breath.
"We should get her to a doctor." Viktor worried, leaning down and inspecting the dying girl.
You put a hand on his chest which earned a confused look to spread across his features. You gently pushed him away from the girl and placed your hand on her chest. You closed your eyes and let the magic flow from your hand to the girl.
The green magic illuminated your face, making your h/c hair sway slightly. Viktor watched you in shock, unsure of what to say or think. His gaze shifted to the young girl, whose skin was starting to turn pink. She looked healthy again after a few moments. You opened your eyes to see that your magic healed her.
You smiled as she grinned up at you, looking at her hands in happiness. Her tiny arms immediately wrapped around your neck. You giggled, hugging her back. "Thank you miss!" The girl cried, pulling away and raising to her feet.
She spun in a circle, before leaning her head to take a deep breath. "It's been so long since I've been able to just breathe in like that."
That made you frown, saddened that she had probably been sick for a while. "Where are you parents." You asked, grabbing her hand.
"Momma went over there." The little girl pointed in the direction.
You nodded, picking her up and carrying her in the direction. Viktor followed you in silence. Seeing you with such gifts, your compassion for his people, how you treated them like they mattered. It made his heart flutter. He thought there was nothing else that could make him fall harder for you, yet you managed to prove him wrong each time he thought such a thing.
"There she is!" The girl pointed out once you approached a food stand.
You set her down, watching as she ran towards her mother who started sobbing once she saw the lively new condition of her daughter. The mothers eyes quickly lifted to you as she girl hugged her. She ran towards you, taking her hands in yours as she repeatedly thanked you on her knees. You crouched down, rubbing her hand with your thumbs. "I'm glad I was able to help your daughter. I'm here to help heal your people."
"I must go tell my friend, her son is also dying." The woman rushed, to which you nodded with bigger smile.
You watched as she walked off with her daughter, before turning your gaze to Viktor. He was watching you intently, making you raise a brow. You then realized that you had just shown him your powers for the first time. It made you blush, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand."
He took your face in his hands, "You are incredible. I have never seen anything so exquisite."
His words made your blush deepen as you looked away in embarrassment, "Vik, it's nothing special. I'm not the only one with powers."
"Your magic is most inspiring, but I was talking about you y/n." He told you.
It made you look up at him in shock. You had loved him from the moment you met him. You would notice him giving you looks from time to time, but none of them compared to the way he was looking at you right now. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off.
"Seeing how you are with them. You truly are an angel, my angel." He continued, not able to contain the way he felt any longer.
You just grinned, leaning in and kissing him softly without warning. You weren't sure what to say, but this got the point you wanted make to him very clear. His lips felt like heaven against yours, you were disappointed that you hadn't done it sooner. He broke a kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
"I have wanted to do that the moment I met you." He admitted, pulling away to get a better look at your face.
"Me too." You told him, leaning into his touch slightly.
He went to lean in again, but you brought your hand to his chest to stop him. "We have plenty of time for that. But your city needs healing, so let's go do that first." You said with a wink before turning to walk down the street.
"Incredible." He whispered to himself, before following you.
Also, Smirk/Smile Saturday anyone? ;) There's nothing more sexy heartwarming than a smiling Thorin/Richard, am I right? I mean, if I see him smile, I smile. It's just contagious!
Also, help me decide, ladies... Is he just, normal, in the below picture or is he pulling the same smirk as the above picture?
Me again! 💛 i had to think! Haha! So plus size reader and either jaskier or valdo (whichever you're feeling most its 100% up to you) and they're platonic cuddling, just friends cuddling its totally normal 👀👀👀. But they're so sleepy, and there's fingers in hair and someone accidentally sleepily confesses feelings and love?? 😍😍 (im back at it with those love confessions!!) Thank you darling! Best wishes as always! 💚💙💚
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Jaskier x Plus Size!Reader
Word Count: 1,752
Rating: G
Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock @kemmastan @magic-multicolored-miracle @writingstudent @mlleecrivaine @coffee-and-stories @amirahiddleston @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @astouract @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual
a/n: I hope you like it, I’m a little rusty! xoxo
You weren’t usually one to attend a party, but Jaskier had made it sound so exciting with promises of exotic beasts and world class performers (himself included, of course). You’d dug out the one somewhat nice dress you had that still fit, a reminder that without intending to you’d stopped attending events once you had to buy new clothes for them. The dress was simple and not as nicely tailored as many others attending, but Jaskier had fussed over you as if you were laden with silks and jewels and the loveliest of them all. And the way his tongue was stilled at the sight of you nearly made you believe it.
You’d had a good time despite yourself. Jaskier had walked around the grounds with you arm in arm, showing you the various delights and insisting you sample every delicious fare offered. When he performed he would always make certain to keep you front and center. He was always so good at keeping you from shrinking yourself or hiding away as you sometimes wished. At first you needed him by your side but before long you were dragging him away to different things that interested you, laughing loudly and engaging in conversation as easily as if you’d known the parytgoers your whole life. Jaskier had a way of inspiring confidence that you sometimes forgot you possessed.
As the night grew late and the party wound down you ended up separated from Jaskier. He’d been arguing with someone over some obscure historical fact (a reminder that he had the mind of an academic as well as the heart of a bard), and you’d wandered away to dance more with some new friends. You looked for him as the number of familiar faces dwindled and the chill set in. You found him by a roaring bonfire and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat. He was sprawled back on a blanket in the grass, midnight blue doublet undone and pale lavender chemise unkempt and exposing more of his chest than it obscured. The pale blue eyes were half-hidden behind heavy lids that looked like they could be seductive or simply tired, the effect on you just as strong either way. When he saw you his eyes lit up and his mouth curled into a soft smile. He patted the spot next to him and you went to him, as you always had and as you always would. You tried at first to sit demurely by his side, the attraction you felt making it hard to know what to do with yourself. Well, you had plenty of ideas. But you were fairly certain most of them were considered uncouth to do in front of even the few remaining people wandering around. He grasped your wrist and gently pulled you back towards him; a wordless plea that you obeyed without a second thought. You had once worried that you would hurt the bard who always casually pulled you onto his lap but he had laughed away your fears of crushing him and made casual comments about showing you just how strong he was. You were certain he wasn’t aware of the possible innuendo, but the words played over and over in your mind at the most inconvenient times.
Once he had you by his side he tenderly tucked your head beneath his chin and you felt the soft thrumming of his heartbeat, finger tangling in the dark hair that covered his chest. It felt so intimate and so right and you closed your eyes, breathing in deep the scent of fire and wine and the unmistakable cloves from the oil he used to tend his lute. His fingers gently threaded through your hair and even though it had grown knotted through dancing, he navigated it painlessly and tenderly.
“Copper for your thoughts?” he asked, voice slightly rough from a night full of singing.
“I was just thinking about you,” you admitted.
“Nice thoughts?”
“Always.”
You could feel him smile and he pressed a kiss into the top of your head, a thousand butterflies swirling around your stomach at the touch.
“What about you?” you asked, hoping but not expecting to hear the same.
“I was thinking about the evening,” he answered. You felt stupid for being disappointed and focused on how nice it was to be so close and so warm. He was always so warm.
“Ah,” you said, “You were right. It was lovely.”
“You were lovely, but you always are,” he said quickly, as though the words had been at the tip of his tongue all night and he’d just had the courage to say them. You sighed heavily and he tried to get a look at your face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s very kind of you to say,” you replied, muttering the words into his chest.
“I’m not saying anything out of kindness, Y/N. You are always the best part of anything I do and tonight was no exception,” he insisted.
“We do have fun together,” you assented, working hard not to read deeper into his words.
“You’re the best part of my life.”
You stiffened at the words. They were said in a hushed, sincere tone that was rare for the bard but they didn’t make any sense. You shifted your body to look up at his face, to see the playful or teasing expression he must have on his face, but you only saw a strange solemnity in the sapphire eyes. His hand fell from your hair down to your face, cupping it with the same tenderness he always showed.
“I’m your best friend, is what you’re saying,” you clarified. He smiled softly and shook his head.
“No. Well, yes. But surely… surely you must know,” he said the words so quietly if you hadn’t been watching his lips as he spoke you would have thought you’d imagined them. He looked nervous now, nothing like the usually overconfident Jaskier you’d come to know and love.
“Jaskier it’s late and you’ve had too much wine and the fire…”
“The fire?”
“Yes the fire is… addling your brain.”
“Fires are known brain addlers, eh?”
“Well the smoke! Maybe! Maybe the smoke…” you were grasping at answers and his expression shifted from anxiety to amusement.
“Y/N do you suppose it is more likely that smoke from a bonfire has turned my head than the possibility that I’m in love with you?”
The words were finally out and Jaskier felt a weight lift off of his chest. You stared at him, wide-eyed and almost distressed.
“What is it, love?” Jaskier asked, the word coming so easily now that he’d finally freed it from his lips after months of enforced silence. He’d been so scared of getting hurt, of being used for his many talents and then discarded like an old toy. He’d promised himself not to seduce you, a promise not easily granted. And then in time it grew easier, not due to lessening attraction – gods knew that had only grown – but because time with you fully clothed became more exciting and fulfilling than any time spent with another undressed. He had stopped pining for lost Countesses and only looked forward to more time he could spend by your side. He hadn’t intended to tell you this way or even this night, but the words had come so naturally he couldn’t fight them anymore. He watched emotions war on your face but waited patiently for you to answer him.
“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. He felt a pang in his heart but he did not feel regret. He wanted you to know you were loved, by him, now and always.
“It’s alright,” he said kindly, “You don’t have to say anything. Things can continue as they were.”
“They cannot!” you insisted, “Well, I mean, do you want them to? Truly?”
“The things I want to do are varied and thorough and tragically unlikely to happen tonight even if you had returned my feelings, but this isn’t about me. Well, not fully about me at least,” he replied.
“Oh but Jaskier, don’t be ludicrous, of course I love you as well,” you insisted, clutching the rumpled chemise as you spoke. His hands grasped your elbows to help hold you steady and his eyes widened as the words sunk in and you kept talking, “I have loved you for such a long time. I just never thought, never dreamed – well, there had been some dreams – but I couldn’t have expected you’d return them.”
“Return them? I believe I held them first!”
“Bollocks! I’ve loved you since you cracked that man over his skull for making a rude remark about me.”
“I’ve loved you since the moment we met!”
“You did not, not truly anyway. You love everyone from the moment you meet them.”
“Not true! Well, alright, a little true. Fine then I loved you most certainly when you insulted that Baroness for being cruel to me.”
“Well I love you so deeply there are moments I wake in the night terrified that something has come to take you and that I will never seen you again!”
Jaskier hadn’t anticipated that the day he confessed his love to you would end in a fight over who loved the other first or most, but he would be damned to all possible hells before he let you win. He shifted his weight, carefully flipping you so he was pressed up close by you, half-covering your body with his, and he locked his pale blue eyes on your widening ones, speaking the words carefully.
“I have not thought of a single person in all of this world with half as much tenderness, adoration, lust, or romantic devotion since meeting you and this has only grown and deepened every moment you’ve been at my side. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. In fact, if you hadn’t noticed, I’ve very much been doing exactly that.”
“Lust?”
You knew he’d said a bunch of lovely words but your mind had frozen on that one, body warming from the fire and his closeness and the beautiful potential that word held. He laughed, a beautiful sound that you’d heard before and would do anything to hear again and again.
And then he kissed you.
It was nothing like you’d imagined. It was rough and a little clumsy and tasted of wine and you would never know a kiss of its equal.
Summary: Rodrick thought he knew what he liked, until it was something else.
Warnings: Mentions of drugs( alcohol+weed), self doubt (Rodrick’s end)
A/N: V self indulgent and ik this isn’t what anyone asked for but I WANTED TO WRITE IT
Rodrick had always been a fan of pretty girls. Time and time again, the girl’ he’d fall for look like they came straight from the doll box, long legs and toned bodies. They were earthbound angels, sculpted from perfection. Heather Hills was no different from that. Long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, everything you could want in a girl and more. Or so he thought. Lately, he found himself not getting the same feeling she once gave him. That heart tugging, air pulling sense of absolute adoration. A thought he had never had before graced his head, did he like Heather or did he just like the chase?
She had ignored him for months on in. Anytime he had even got close to him the only thing she pretty much had to say to him was for him to fuck off. When they got paired together for group projects, she pushed the workload on him and her reaction when they’d do poorly was nothing short of disgusting. Then what was he feeling for her? Rodrick was so distraught that he had gone through his mom’s old advice articles and found that what he had felt for her was just simple physical attraction. It wasn’t love or even liking. And if that was how it was for what he felt for Heather, had he ever really liked someone?
What was it like to fall in love? To find someone to be not only beautiful but to like them for everything and more. He always gave Greg a hard time for Holly but even Greg wasn’t as lame as him. Him and Holly not only talked frequently, but they hung out as well! That was way more than Rodrick could say about any girl he’d had interest in. He was going to go not just his entire school career, but his entire senior year without an inkling of what it was like to have a chick.
In which the reader is Richie Tozier’s teenage daughter and follows him and the other Losers around Derry.
Trigger warnings apply! Blood, death, homophobia, anxiety, basically all the warnings that apply for the book and the movies.
Also, for obvious reasons, spoilers are in this story. Like very fucking prominently as I’m trying my best to follow the events of IT: Chapter 2. But there will be inserts of the book when I feel like they fit, because I appreciate that shit like a lot.
I do have a taglist, contact me in any way (comments, messages, asks) if you want me to add you to it. Other than that, comments, asks and messages are always greatly appreciated and I will answer as soon as I can!
(On a different note, I want to mention that I’m german so the only book I own is the german copy. If I get a name wrong or whatever, please do tell me. The book is old and I don’t know if they changed anything in the translation, if parts were lost in the translation or whatever. I’m always doing my research but I’m not perfect, I make mistakes.)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
LCPO is now on AO3 (click here) and Wattpad (click here)! Please note that these are my accounts. If you find my fic(s) on any other accounts, please let me know!
Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series.
Read part 1 here!
A/N: Thank you so much for all the positive feedback! Here comes part 2! It’s almost 4,000 words so you might want to take some time to read through this. As mentioned in the previous part, trigger warnings apply, this is IT so shit might not be too easy for some people and I’m trying to be as close to the movie as possible, but some things might be closer to the book and stuff.
Summary: Amenadiel was not as bad as you first thought he would be. In the end, you were glad that he asked you to talk to him. Maybe he would know what to do next.
Words: 1,452
Warnings: language, blood, angst, we're getting there guys, the end is near hehe
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
“What did they do to you?” you could only scoff at his question.
“I can’t believe that you don’t know me.” shaking your head in disbelief, you spun around, shirt pulled down again.
“You’re saying this like you’re a legend.” Amenadiel pointed out.
“That’s because I thought I was.” your head tilted to one side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was an angel in front of you. One that spent his time in heaven (& on Earth, apparently). And the man in front of you had never heard of you. You had always thought that the other angels did not like you because of your story. Looked like they did not even have a clue you existed. Which made your life even more of a lie than you previously thought.
“Show me your wings.” it was not a question. It was a demand.
“Show me yours first. How am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth, huh?” two could play that game. Amenadiel wasted no time & only a second later, beautiful soft feathers surrounded his frame. You were awestruck. How you wished for your own wings to look like that. As much as you wanted to, you decided against touching them. You did not want others touching yours either. It was a silent promise you made to yourself. There was no time for it anyway. Because he withdrew them almost immediately.
“Show me your wings.” he repeated his question. There was no other way out of it. But then again, Dan was only a few rooms away. If you made a sound during that process, he would come running in, for sure. You also could not necessarily get rid of the shirt you were wearing. Apologies, Dan. Bracing yourself, you closed your eyes to solely focus on your wings. The pain would be much worse considering your wounds that still were not entirely healed yet. You bit your lip in order not to scream but a small whimper still left you the moment you extracted them. Destroying the shirt you were wearing. Cutting open your skin like it was nothing. Reopening the wounds with a burning sensation. Your eyes were still closed, not wanting to see his reaction. When there was nothing but silence, you slowly forced your eyes to open. His face showed shock, he was frozen in place. But when he saw blood dripping onto the floor, he wasted no time with running out of the room. Oh, great. That was not what you wanted to happen. No. If he went to Dan? What would that mean for you?
Your thoughts were cut short when the door opened again with Amenadiel rushing through. A first-aid kit in his hands. He wanted to help you. You went down to your knees due to the pain. The man in front of you asked a simple question before treating your cuts.
“May I?” he was gesturing to your wings. The only thing you could do was nod. You were at a point where you did not care any longer. Amenadiel winced when his fingers touched the golden, sharp structure that were your wings. Not soft to touch like his. Not black like they should be. No, yours were like metal that had been sharpened. Sharpened to hurt. Sharpened to kill. Lost in thoughts, you did not even notice the angel starting to clean your back.
“Wait.” you called out quietly. Immediately, he stopped, waiting for you to continue. “They’ll cut me open when I retract them as well.” you let him know & for the second time in such a short period, you winced in pain that was caused by what some people or angels called a gift. Luckily, Amenadiel did not talk during patching you up. He was careful as to not hurt you any further. The work was done fast, he was skilled at this, though you had no idea why. You figured this was not the first time he treated an injury.
“What happened to you? I wanna know the entire story. From the very beginning.” he handed you a new shirt that he found on the dresser in the room. Giving you privacy, he turned so his back was facing you. It was hard to pull the shirt over your head. But you managed in the end. You coughed as a sign that you were done. Sitting down on the bed, you waited for him to join you. Getting the message, he approached you & took a seat beside you. Though you did not even look at him once, you told him about your past. About everything. Well, not everything. Maybe you left out the fact that you were the Devil’s daughter. But you figured that, if he really had no clue who you were, it would be convenient to keep this fact a secret. Who knew how he would look at you if he found out about your origin?
“So, yeah. That’s it.” you finished with an awkward chuckle & the silence that followed made you incredibly uncomfortable. Amenadiel needed time to process what you just revealed.
“Okay. But why can’t I see your true form?” he questioned, more to himself than to you. Snapping your head in his direction, your eyebrows perked up. Right, he had mentioned that he could not see anything when he looked at you.
“I-I don’t know.” you sighed out. “Maybe it was something God did? I mean, he kinda locked me away. Maybe it’s some sort of protection so other angels can’t detect me?” you were just as confused. But in your defense, all of this came out of nowhere.
“Could be.” Amenadiel shrugged. Then his eyes widened a little as if he just got an idea. “I think I know someone who could help you.”
“Wait. No, wait.” you chuckled shortly. “Who said I wanted help?” you crossed your arms over your chest. The man next to you eyed you up & down, a dumbfounded expression adorning his face.
“You don’t want help?” to him, it was the only way but it seemed like you thought differently.
“I don’t want & I don’t need help. I left heaven for a reason.” you explained. Amenadiel shook his head then. You misunderstood him so he corrected himself.
“I’m not talking about bringing you back to heaven. That’s your decision & your decision only. I understand why you don’t wanna go back there. After everything…I was talking about your wings.” he gestured to your back that was bandaged under the thin material of the cotton shirt.
“Oh.” you muttered. “O-Okay.” you answered after a few moments.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the two of you left the room again & found Dan playing with Charlie. It was a cute sight. He really was great with kids. When he heard footsteps, he looked over his shoulder, a big smile plastered on his face. It was almost like he did not even care that you were gone so long. He simply focused on the baby in front of him & was more than happy when little Charlie smiled because of something he did. Amenadiel then announced that he would leave again. He thanked Dan & you for dinner & took the baby from Dan’s hold. You accompanied them to the front door. The last words you heard from him were “We’ll get this fixed.”. You only gave him a warm but tired smile in return. Closing the door, your back pressed against it. Softly as to not irritate your injury. A loud sigh left you.
“Long day?” Dan looked at you from the couch. You only nodded at him. “Hey. What did Amenadiel want from you?” shit, what could you possibly tell him. Another lie? Well, there was no other chance, right?
“Oh, he just gave me some rules to follow if he ever decides to leave Charlie here. Because he knew you would get distracted by his cuteness. So he trusted me more with that.” you shrugged your shoulders, sitting beside him & facing the television opposite of you. This time, your back did not touch anything. You simply sat up straight. Dan seemed satisfied with your answer & did not question why you did not get comfortable on the couch like you usually did.
Amenadiel pulled his phone out of his pocket after stepping away from Dan’s house. With one hand, he dialed the number of the only person who came into his mind. Charlie was secure in his other arm, already falling asleep. The phone rang once, twice. When Amenadiel lost hope, the other person picked up.
“Hello?” the voice came out through the speaker.
“Luci? I need your help.”
~to be continued~
Next Chapter (04/26/2021)
Published (04/19/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @suffering-canucks-fan, @dad-ee-drea, @xbarrjallenx, @marvelofwitch, @aceofspace95, @julessbrown, @thevelvetseries, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @strangewhovian-blog, @officialfictionalwreck, @peachescream06, @memeingcheetah27 (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)
For those who asked, here are my fics (updating as they come) focusing on the reader as a young girl in Geralt’s care. Ages & timings vary. They’re written in a relative order, but if you know me, my timelines never make any sense lol, so please do keep that in mind!
The reader is my OC, Akela, just with the pronouns/name changed as Tumblr seems to prefer reader!fics. Her version of each story can be found here.
The White Wolf and His Pup - Geralt finds a baby girl in the woods, and for some reason, he can’t quite let her go.
Fragile - Geralt deals with a sick baby.
Like Father, Like Daughter - Geralt should have expected his child’s first word to be ‘fuck’.
Raising a Wild Pup - Geralt deals with a tantrum, watches the sun set, and goes swimming. In one evening. That’s his superpower. He calls it fatherhood.
Fire - It’s your birthday, and you and Geralt celebrate by playing a game.
Eleven - For a ten-year-old, political events can be boring. Thankfully, Geralt is a master at distracting you.
Book - After a long day, you ask Geralt to read you a story before bed.
Drabble - “I’m bleeding!”
Little Traveller - While staying at an inn, you sleepwalk, leaving a very uneasy Geralt to come and find you.
First - You smile at a boy, and Geralt starts to worry.
Dad - Three times Geralt called you his daughter, and the one time you called him ‘Dad’.
You Make Me Smile - The one thing you should never do is start a tickle fight with a Witcher.
Each Other - Geralt would never have believed that he’d one day find himself braiding a teenage girl’s hair, never mind her braiding his… But there he was. And he wasn’t complaining.
Wild Rabbit - You meet your mother- the mother who, as the stories go, left you to the monsters in the woods. Fortunately, you were found by Geralt before they could get you, but it’s safe to say you’re not happy to see this woman… and neither is Geralt.
Heart of Geralt - Geralt and Jaskier’s first meeting, except with an added twist. Who knew The Witcher liked raspberries?
To Annoy a Witcher - Three times Geralt hated the bard’s song, and the one time he didn’t.
Eye of the Beholder - Geralt has a tendency to cover your eyes whenever a naked person steps into view - as any father does - but this proves to be quite difficult when he first meets Yennefer.
Sex and Apologies - After the djinn causes the building to fall down around Geralt and Yennefer, you believe your guardian to be dead. He is, of course, very much alive, and you’re far from happy.
Sticks and Stones - After Renfri’s death, you find Geralt surrounded by a crowd of people throwing stones at him and yelling at him to die. Needless to say, you react in the only way possible. Like a Witcher.
Drabble - “Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.”
Mud Monster - Jaskier should have known better than letting you convince him to play a prank on Geralt.
Like Him - You and Geralt have an argument, and it takes a certain bard to get the two of you to stop glaring daggers at each other and make up.
Drabble - “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Drabble - “You have a stick in your hair.”
Drabble - “You know I love you.”
Drabble - “I’ll always be there for you.”
Drabble - “What the hell are you holding and why is it… wriggling?”
Drabble - “Where’s Roach?”
A Mother’s Touch - Geralt is great, but sometimes, all you need is a mother’s arms to wrap around you and hold you close.
To Love and Be Loved - Geralt and Yennefer aren’t exactly the most well-behaved parents when it comes to you and teenage boys.
Until the End - After Geralt loses both Yennefer and Jaskier on that mountainside, you’re there to assure him that he’s not alone.
Constant - You’re worried that, once Geralt finds Ciri, he’ll stop caring for you. Geralt’s quick to put your mind at ease.
Fishy Business - Geralt teaches his kid to catch fish.
Jealousy - You meet Ciri, and you are less than happy.
Name Game - Geralt accidentally calls Ciri something he shouldn’t have.
The Pup and the Cub - Geralt leaves you and Ciri to finally sort out your differences.
A/N: Happy Birthday to me! Here’s a sweet something for you. It’s time Yennefer had some time with Geralt’s kid. :)
Find the OC version of this fic here.
Title: A Mother’s Touch
Summary: Geralt is great, but sometimes, all you need is a mother’s arms to wrap around you and hold you close.
Words: 1393
“Fuck,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes and blowing a deep breath out slowly through your mouth. You were sat cross-legged by the rippling lake, the sound just about soothing you. The stars were out, and you’d been staring up at them for a number of minutes before having to return to your calculated breathing and rocking methods.
Who thought it a good idea to make women bleed every month? What was the point?
You angrily reached up to wipe at the tears rising to your eyes. In times like these, when you were in pain and in need of comfort, you went to Geralt. Whatever the time, wherever the place, he’d ask no questions if he knew you didn’t want them to be asked. There’d been many nights he’d woken to a presence at his side and would reach for his sword, only to glance quickly down and see it was you before settling again.
But, you reminded yourself with a sharp sting of pain, Geralt was on a hunt, and he had been on it for the better part of the day. Instead, you were camping out with Jaskier and Yennefer until your Witcher was finished. The end couldn’t come sooner.
Sniffling, you opened your eyes and drew in a deep breath, blinking up at the sky. The water rippled as you dipped your hands in and splashed the cold liquid on your face, gasping a little and feeling momentary relief before it started up again. “Damn it,” you hissed, falling to your side and curling your legs up to your chest.
“Are you alright?”
You would have shot up at the sudden new voice if you weren’t in so much agony. You hadn’t even heard the footsteps. Instead, you fumbled for a stick in the mud beside you and wielded it in front of you, pointing it at whoever had decided to join you.
It was Yennefer.
And she looked incredibly amused, despite the spark of concern in her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow. “I like your sword,” she commented, watching as recognition dawned on you and you threw the stick to the side, curling your legs up again.
Yennefer frowned. She uncrossed her arms and tentatively took the few steps between you both before crouching down beside you, reaching a hand out to rest gently on your back. “Are you alright?” she repeated her previous words, a little more apprehension laced through them this time.
You harshly shook your head, eyes squeezed tightly shut, and let out a little gasp of air as though you’d been holding your breath for some seconds.
“What is it?” Yennefer asked. She tilted her head a bit, scanning your body for an obvious injury, but couldn’t see anything which would indicate that you were visibly hurt. “Y/N, you have to-”
“I’m on my fucking period and it hurts!” you burst out suddenly, not even worrying about the volume of your voice. Thankfully, Yennefer didn’t either. As soon as the revelation left your lips, she turned her head and quietly scanned the trees and bushes behind them before standing to her feet. Tendrils of white magic encircled her hands, glowing in the dark, rustling the bushes and lifting plants and flowers. You heard the slight noise and did all you could to raise your head, blinking against the dots in your vision.
“What’re you doing?” you asked, one hand clasped over your stomach while the other went to your hot forehead. Yennefer was quiet for a moment, disappearing through the trees a second later, and you groaned, feeling tears slide from your eyes again.
You wanted Geralt.
Or anyone, really.
But mostly Geralt.
The sorceress came back quickly with two bowls, likely the ones they’d eaten from earlier, and you watched as she sat down beside you, handfuls of plants and what looked to be herbs in her hands. For the smallest of moments, your pain subsided as she observed Yennefer with an uncommon interest, your eyes following her movements while she swiftly created a fire, filled a bowl with water, and placed the bowl over the flames. She reached for a large rock at the edge of the river and plopped it gently in the water, then proceeded to fill the second bowl and drop the plants and herbs in it.
All at once, your stomach protested – to what, you weren’t sure, and she didn’t care to think – and you let out a pitiful sob. Yennefer waved a hand over the heating bowl and a second later picked the rock up. “Turn over for me,” she said gently, her hand on your shoulder, and you, with a little help, did as was asked, your face wet from tears. You sniffled, trembling slightly as you watched Yennefer gently place the rock on your lower stomach, and an immediate sense of reprieve flowed through you, causing you to shut your eyes. How the woman hadn’t been burnt from the heat, you didn’t know, but the logics of the situation were far from view right now.
A low sigh left you, and you relaxed almost completely, feeling the hot rock do its magical work on your stomach.
Yennefer smiled, pleased with her work, and sat back once more to return to the second bowl. “I’m making a medicine,” she told you. “It’ll help ease the pain a little more.”
All you could do was nod, and the both of you fell into a comfortable silence a second later. You were utterly exhausted, having not slept a bit since the night before, and the sound of the water in the light breeze and the distant hooting of an owl almost sent you right off, but Yennefer put a hand on your shoulder before you could do so. The sorceress helped you sit up and handed you the bowl, sitting cross-legged as you drank its contents.
“What is it?” you asked afterwards, wiping at your lips with a not-so trembling hand, and Yennefer breathed a short sound of amusement.
“Magic,” she said. She smiled at you. “How are you feeling now?”
You nodded, holding the cooling stone still against your skin. “Better,” you said, before glancing up and giving the woman a sincere look. “Thank you, Yennefer.”
The corners of Yennefer’s lips turned upwards. She took the bowl from you and dropped her shoulders, staring out across the river. “Geralt should not be much longer,” she said almost distantly, and you lifted your eyes to look at her. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that Geralt and Yennefer were more than just friends. You’d known for a while now, and, to be perfectly honest, you weren’t as adverse to the idea as you believed you might have once been. Yennefer was nice – she had been since the moment you’d first met – and moments like tonight proved just how much you really, really needed a mother. You had Geralt, and he was fine and just about enough, but there were things you often felt you needed to talk about that you couldn’t do with him. Yennefer was looking to be that person, and neither of you could find one fault in that.
The sorceress turned back around to face you and smiled. “Perhaps you should sleep,” she suggested.
As if on cue, you nodded, causing Yennefer’s smile to widen. “I think so, too.” You went to move, but decided against it when the pain rose once more. You grimaced and looked a little bashfully at Yennefer. “I might have to stay here.”
Yennefer chuckled. “I’ll stay with you.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to-”
“Your guardian may have quite the fit if he finds out I left you to sleep here alone,” she said, shrugging out of her long coat and laying it across the mud. “Here,” she said, pointing to it, “lie down.”
You did as you were told, manoeuvring herself onto your side, and a moment later you were facing Yennefer. Something in you, whether it was the missing Geralt or the fact that there was someone right there, made you shuffle forward until you were in Yennefer’s arms, your head under her chin, hands tucked beneath you.
And Yennefer shut her eyes, holding you tightly to her and wondering if, finally, this was what being a mother felt like.
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