#miriam fic

[pokenimagines]

SFW | Miriam | Fic | Reader somehow finds a person to cover for Miriam's job and also offers to take Miriam out on one of their outings? I just met her, but I am already in love.

Bruh, she’s got a chokehold on me. I sweat, she’s so fine. I love her. I simped the moment I found her in my life. Even my older sister is smitten with this nurse. She claims that “They knew what they were doing by making everyone hot in this region.” And truer words have never been spoken.

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SFW Miriam: Adventures Await Us

“Ah! There’s a cliff there!” Miriam said in shock. Thankfully you had a legendary ride pokemon who jumped and began soaring through the sky. You sadly couldn’t see the pink haired nurse’s face, but you knew it would be wide eyed.

“Welcome to the wilds, Miriam!” You shouted, as you soared through the sky. You guys managed to land in a large clearing and you helped Miriam off, before putting your partner back in their pokeball. “If we’re not soaring, then we’re probably climbing…and if we’re not doing that, then we’re swimming.”

“You do this all the time?” Miriam said as she stood on wobbly legs. She looked around the wild area, watching a few igglybuffs waddled around near the grass.

“Every day I can. Seriously, I can’t believe you’re always locked up in that nurse’s room.” You said with a sigh. Miriam looked so alive out here, “Didn’t you ever go on an adventure in your school years?”

“I wasn’t able to. I went to study at a pokemon center for my scavenger hunt.” Miriam admitted, “I wish I had gone out and explored some more.”

“Well, we just gotta make up for lost time. There’s a cave around here that’s crawling with the most adorable noibats.” You said, pointing off into the distance. “We can set up a picnic and then head inside after eating lunch.”

“That sounds lovely…and thanks for finding someone to cover for me.” Miriam said, as she grabbed your hand and dragged you into a hug and squealed, “You’re the best!”

You laughed and patted her back; you felt a bit sad when she parted from you, but you quickly shook off the feeling.

“Who did you find to cover for me, by the way?” She asked, since you never did tell her. You felt your entire body clam up as you cleared your throat.

“Trust me…they’re professionals.” You assured her.

“That doesn’t sound too convincing.” Miriam said but decided to drop it in favor of enjoying the rest of this little adventure. She only had till the end of the day before she went back to her job.

Meanwhile at the School:

“You’re…a Chansey…” Arven said as he looked at the pokemon. He managed to burn himself during a failed cooking experiment. The Chansey looked at him and cooed, walking over to him and handing him an egg. Arven awkwardly took it before something clicked in his head.

“NURSE MIRIAM TURNED INTO A CHANSEY!”

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[dawntreaderflynne]

Fictober 2019 #4

Fandom: Dragon Age 2/Dragon Age Inquisition Pairing: Varric Tethras/Miriam Hawke Prompt: “I’m with you, you know that.”

Because I have Very Specific Headcanons about how things actually played out during and after DA2. :3

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“Viscount!?”

Varric winced. “Uh. Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Kind of came as a surprise to me, too. Apparently due to my ‘generous contributions to the reconstruction efforts’ and blah blah I have ‘shown exemplary drive for leadership and organization’ and basically nobody wants the job so they may as well foist it on someone who seems to give a damn.”

Hawke let out a long breath, slumping back into the couch cushions beside him. “Well, you’ve always been the sort to leave an impression.”

“That’s the goal.” He gave her a lopsided smile, but it lacked its usual shine and they both fell silent. He nudged her knee with his own. “Talk to me, Miri.”

“Well, I’m still thinking of what to say,” she said with a nervous half-laugh. “I’d like to know what you think about it.”

“I don’t know.” Varric scrubbed a hand over his face. “Not to toot my own horn, but without me there to kick asses and harass the bigwigs to pay attention, the harbor would still be floundering. People want shit fixed, and I can fix it.”

She waited expectantly as he trailed off. When he didn’t continue, she gently prodded, “But…?” 

Varric sighed and reached for her hand. “But it’s not just me, is it? I know you don’t care for Kirkwall.”

“You’re right,” she said softly. “I don’t. But you do. And I love you. If anybody can sort out the mess that city has become and save it from itself, it’s you. You spent...a lot of time helping me over the years, and I know you had to make sacrifices to do it.”

“Bullshit. Nobody was twisting my arm. It was my choice.”

“I know.” She smiled and twined their fingers together, giving him a squeeze. “Varric, if you want to accept, you should. You went above and beyond, serving the Inquisition, and I know there was some arm twisting - ”

“Maybe a little, at the beginning.” “ - You deserve to do what you want, and be happy.” 

He shifted on the couch to face her, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “I won’t be happy if you aren’t.”

She smiled, but her eyes were serious as she met his gaze. “Tell me truly. Do you want this?” 

“I don’t know if want is the right word, but…” He heaved a sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to help, and if I’m the viscount, shit will get done.”

“Then tell them you accept.” 

Varric looked up at her, expression wavering between uncertainty and hope. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” She lifted their intertwined hands to kiss his knuckles. “I’m with you, you know that. And right now after everything that’s happened, that’s enough for me to be happy.”

His grip tightened. “Even in Kirkwall?”

“Even in Kirkwall.” She winked. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve made the nobles of Kirkwall clutch at their pearls. Finding out I’m their new viscountess ought to shake things up a bit.”

“You think the nobles will freak out, wait until Seeker Pentaghast hears the news.” Varric grimaced. “She nearly strangled me when she found out I’d lied to her about not knowing where you were. I don’t want to be within ten leagues of her when she finds out we were actually married the whole time.”

Hawke grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. She doesn’t want to kill me.”

“My hero.” He started to laugh. “Maker’s balls. Bran is going to shit himself.”

[dawntreaderflynne]

Coda

Coda (noun):

1. (a): a concluding musical section that is formally distinct from the main structure    (b): a concluding part of a literary or dramatic work 2. something that serves to round out, conclude, or summarize and usually has its own interest

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“And then,” Miriam squeaked, “Fenris says, Oh, Hawke stepped in the poopy! It was the most undignified thing I’d ever heard him say!”

Varric sagged back in his chair, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “News of the hour! Broody Elf makes a joke!”

“I think he even caught himself off guard,” Miriam said, pleased with herself when she managed to enunciate through her inebriated giggling. “He looked so startled!”

“Incapacitated by his own sarcasm,” Varric intoned gravely.

Miriam sputtered behind her tankard, snorting and coughing as she tried to drink and laugh at the same time. She slumped forward, plunking her tankard onto the table with an unsteady hand while her other hand shot out to steady herself. Her aim was off and her hand missed the arm of Varric’s chair, but landed on his shoulder.

He barked out another laugh and gave her a few thumps on the back with his broad hand. “Better be careful, Hawke,” he drawled. “People will think you have a drinking problem.”

It was a terrible joke, as old and worn out as the scraps of burlap the Hanged Man had the audacity to call curtains, but Miriam only laughed harder. Varric’s fingers bunched in her jacket’s shoulder as she swayed and he hauled her up. Her clumsy hand found the arm of his chair this time and she clutched it in a white-knuckled grip to keep from falling forward again.

She caught her breath and lifted her head, but as soon as she made eye contact Miriam started giggling anew, which set Varric off again. Leaning forward like she was, he was startlingly close. His laugh was warm and slightly rough, velvet rubbed against the grain, and the sound twisted something deep inside her chest. Her cheeks, already rosy from ale and laughter, heated as they flushed deeper pink. The room seemed to tilt, tipping her irresistibly forward, and the next moment Varric’s laughter abruptly cut off as she touched her mouth to his.

It was only a fleeting, warm press of lips, but the ringing silence that fell between them when she moved back seemed to stretch for ages. The boisterous noise from the tavern’s usual crowd faded from her perception, leaving only the two of them in a silent bubble where time and sound crawled to a halt.

Varric sucked in an unsteady breath, stunned into uncharacteristic speechlessness. The rush of air into his chest pulled her forward, drawing her in again, but she’d hardly leaned close enough to feel the heat radiating from him before his hand - still holding the shoulder of her jacket - tightened its grip, halting her in place before gently but firmly guiding her back. “Hang on there, Hawke,” he said hoarsely. “How drunk are you?”

Miriam swallowed hard at the wary look on his face. Somewhere behind the softening haze of alcohol, a voice in the back of her head was warning her that she’d crossed a line. But the ale had apparently loosened her lips in more than one way, because she answered with frank honesty. “Not very. Just drunk enough to be a little bold, I think. Sober enough to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Another silence, long enough for Miriam’s pounding heart to turn heavy as a stone within her chest.

“Something you’ve wanted to do for a long time?” he echoed at last. His voice was a low rasp, barely audible over the raucous card game across the room. His expression didn’t change, but the wariness in his eyes was slowly giving way to something that looked a lot like hope. Miriam tried to answer and found that she couldn’t, so she nodded instead, holding his gaze. “For how long?”

“I don’t really know,” she fumbled, her usual silver-tongued grace deserting her. “Like you said, it’s been six years. You’ve been with me for all of it, the good and the bad, and…” Maker’s balls, she was tearing up, and not nearly inebriated enough to blame it on drink. “You’re the best thing in this Maker-forgotten city.”

Varric stared at her in wonder, features soft in a way she’d never seen. “You...you really mean that.”

“Every word.” She did her best to summon a sly grin. “Well, the best thing except for Kiron, of course. I am Fereldan, and everyone knows we can’t live without our mabari - ”

The hand on her shoulder abruptly shifted to cup the back of her head. Varric pulled her in, leaning forward to meet her halfway as he stopped her glib words with his mouth. A soft sound, equal parts surprise and relief, escaped her, and she pushed forward into his space, both hands tangling in the lapels of his duster.

She kissed him until she was dizzy for want of air, aware of nothing but the slide of his lips against hers and the warmth of his hand on her head. Varric finally pulled back but he kept his hand against her hair, leaning to press his brow against hers. “How did it take six blighted years for us to do that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Apparently we’re both idiots,” Miriam said, forcing the words through her still-tingling lips. He laughed again, soft and deep and warm, and the sound alone was enough to steal her breath once more. She curled her hand around his wrist. “I think we should make up for lost time.”

“Oh, do you now?”

The low rumble of his voice made her shiver, and she grinned at him, giddy and wild. “Bodahn and Sandal left yesterday to get supplies. They won’t be back until tomorrow evening.”

He kissed her again, quick and fierce, then kicked his chair back and got to his feet. Miriam followed after him, weaving through the drunken crowd on the way to the door. They slipped through the Hanged Man’s creaky door into the cool night. She took his hand, hardly feeling the ground beneath her feet as she led him home.