#I'm trying to watch Griffin's face but I really can't.

[eggonog]

Rabbit (Yandere rich! oldtimy!OC x gn! reader)

My 3rd post!

Tw: Abuse, violence, abusive parents, murder, typical yandere stuff, sad boi :( ect.

Unedited

Version 1

~~~~~~~

William was so tired of this. The children looking at him as their parents whisper in their ear and point at him. Their stupid smiles as they walked up to him, waving. Trying to earn his favor. He hated it.

He walked out of the main hall, and down a hallway. But his rhythmic steps faltered when he saw you. Sitting alone in the corner eating a biscuit. He watched as you cracked it in half to give to your stuffed bunny. He almost laughed.

"What are you doing?"

You jumped and made a little squeak.

"...me?"

You pointed to yourself.

He nodded, and you stared at him with eyes as big as his shiny silver dinner plates.

"Who else would I be talking to?"

"Uh- Mimin...?"

He smirked. You were amusing.

"Is that what you named that thing?"

He pointed at your soft, yellow bunny.

"Yes, it is. And we are eating."

He scoffed.

"It can't eat, it's just a cotton ball wrapped in fabric."

You looked at him, horrified.

"How can you say that!?" You covered Mimins ears.

"He's sensitive!"

He chuckled. Very amusing.

He boldly walked over and plopped himself down next to you.

"I want the biscuit." He held out his hand, expectantly.

"Go get your own! This one belongs to Mimin."

You held your bunny close to your chest, turning away and protecting your precious friend.

He frowned, slightly upset. His hand lowered a little.

"Well, it's my party, so it's mine."

"No! We're the gusts, and you always have to treat guests with respect!"

His frown deepened.

His hand fell to his side, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Don't you want to be nice to me?"

"Why would I,"

You puffed out your cheeks, tears at the corner of your eyes.

"You were mean to Mimin!"

He had a confused frown now.

"It's just a bunny..."

"And you're just a boy!"

"a- "

He looked at you for a second, a surprised noise coming out. And then he started laughing.

"I like you. Would you wish to be my acquaintance?"

You blinked.

"What?"

Your posture relaxed, and you faced him again, your precious Mimin resting in your lap.

"I want to see you again after this, rabbit."

Your head whipped directly at him.

"I am not a rabbit!"

"Would you prefer bunny?"

"No! Call me by my name!"

Your cheeks puffed out.

He smiled.

"Hmm... no, I don't think I will."

You sputtered for a few seconds, looking at him offended.

"W- well- then I'm gonna call you..."

You looked down in concentration, trying to think.

He smirked and looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah?"

"W- what's... what's your... name?"

He smiled mischievously, jumping up and striking a pose, putting one hand on his chest, and the other one out in the air, closing his eyes, and dramatically stating;

"I am the second born of the Renali family and beloved heir to my father's business- William Eric Griffin CogsWorth-Renali! Pleased to make your acquaintance."

He bowed with just as much vigor, waiting for your response.

"Well then, I'm going to call you Coggy!"

His posture grew slack for a moment, and he looked at you as if asking if you were serious.

When you gave him a determined and mischievous look.

He stood up straight, snapping into place.

"That's not fair! You should call me William! It's what's proper!"

"Hmm, no, I don't think I will!"

He was exasperated.

You really were amusing.

~~~~~~~

You were sitting below a large, thick tree reading a book on a summer afternoon facing away from your mansion, when suddenly Will was beside you, hanging upside-down by his knees on a tree branch.

"Guess what I did today?"

"AH-!" You startled, flinching and dropping your book.

"Cog? Geeze, you startled me..."

He giggled, and let himself fall to the ground, now sitting to your right.

You straightened yourself out, brushing the wrinkles from your clothing and fixing your posture.

"Anyway, what did you want to tell me?"

"I passed my test~" He folded his arms behind him, crossing his legs and stretching out.

"What? First try?" You put your book in the grass to your left.

"Yep," He popped the p. "I'm a pro-fess-ional swordsman now. Please, hold the applause-"

"No one's clapping." You said playfully, tilting your head and bringing your left knee to your chest.

"Wa- but I'm the first-ever 15-year-old to become a knight-!"

He pulled his arms from behind his head and leaned forward, looking at you like a kicked puppy.

"They said i could be a tyrant when I grow up! They said I could over throw kingdoms- that I was more talented than most adults!"

"yeah, yeah, no- good job."

He pouted.

"You're being sarcastic!"

"No I'm nottttttt"

You picked your book up from the grass and started reading.

"What, do you want me to be smart like you? I can learn everything! Be smarter than you!"

You smirked and raised an eyebrow, nose still in your book.

"I highly doubt that, Cog."

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"What will it take? How can I impress you?"

"I dunno..."

"Commonnnnnn pleaseeee????"

"What are you please-ing for?" There was a smile in your voice "I just said I don't know."

He rolled his eyes.

"I swear, I could rule the whole world and you would still rather read than humor me."

He slumped against the tree.

"What are you reading anyway?"

"Nothing- HEY DONT LOOK-!"

You threw your book behind you as he tried to snatch it.

He had you pinned to the ground, a hand on either side of you. He glared down at you, playfully.

His normally perfect hair was falling down his face slightly, the golden tastels from his overcoat barely missing brushing your chest. His red tie was slightly loose, and he was looking at you with that... awful smirk that made your heart flutter.

"It's not that dirty stuff again- is it?"

Your face flushed- less from him and more from embarrassment now.

"No! It's not!"

While you were distracted trying to come up with an excuse, he reached over you and grabbed it.

"COG!"

You lunged forward and wrapped your body around it, keeping it away from him.

"Okay, okay! What do you want?"

He looked at you, laying on your back in the grass, face hot.

"I-"

He looked over you, slightly sprawled and breathing heavily. You were beautiful.

"I want- you..."

"...yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"...huh?"

"What do you want me to do..? You never finished your sentence."

"OH. Uh- I want... you to..."

"William!"

He froze.

The two of you scrambled up, and you threw your book to the side, where he couldn't see it.

"William! Where are you!?"

You could see the fear in his eyes.

"You weren't supposed to come see me, were you?"

"I... wasn't, no. No I was not."

He was panicking, you could tell. He had only gotten caught once before, and his father didn't come to get him... so why was he here? It would make more sense to send a servant to get him.

His father came storming around the tree, quickly slapping Will across the face.

"What have you done with your mother!?"

You gasped and took a step back. He grabbed onto his son's hair, shaking him.

"You horrible child!- where is she!?"

You couldn't do anything but watch, as your best friend got berated and beaten by his father in front of you.

"I don't know! I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"She's not in the mansion! She's not with her friends! She's gone! She always loved you more than me, what did you do to her!? WHERE IS SHE!?"

He threw his son against the tree and glared down at him. William started crying, and you took a step forward, instincts wanting to comfort your friend.

This caught his father's attention.

"YOU." He pointed at you, and you flinched. "You must know, what did he do with my wife!?"

"I- I'm sorry sir I do not know."

"Useless... Both of you!"

He kicked Will, and then angrily stormed off, leaving him to whimper and sniffle, curled in on himself.

The second he was out of sight, you ran to the base of the tree, sitting in front of him.

"Will..? Are you... allright?"

He sniffed, grabbing onto his hair, and biting his lip to stop from crying.

"I'm... okay."

He was shaking.

You slowly sat next to him and hugged him. Holding his head to your chest like a child.

He let out no noise, and that made you sadder.

"Hey, Cog? What did he mean about your mother being missing?"

Your clothes were wet with tears.

"I don't know..."

You sat in silence for about 40 minutes. He had long stopped crying, but you didn't let go.

You sat there, watching the sunset, occasionally singing a song. A few stray leaves fell down on the wind, softly falling to the ground. You stayed there all night, using his coat as a blanket. He fell asleep on your chest, with your songs in his ears.

~~~~~~~

He had asked to meet with you. It had been a while, a few months. You only saw him last at your birthday banquet. He bought you a thin gold necklace, with a small, intricate gold rose. In the rose, there was an itty-bitty clock. It dumbfounded everyone at the party how it could be as small as it was. Though it was a bit garish, you found it charming.

You were both adults now, and he owned his father's business. Your childhood friend had become more stern and lost his playfulness. An adorable teen had become a charismatic and flirtatious man.

You often wished you could go back to how it was before his mother ran out on them. It felt weird to see him acting serious and cold.

He acted different around you though, he had a soft spot for you. And you knew it. The way his normally perfect smile would droop to the left of his face, the genuine lop-sided grin he would show to only you.

He asked to meet under your tree.

Alone.

So here you were, walking up to it. You took a deep breath and walked around it.

You had matured, not enough to stop calling him by his middle name, but enough to drop the nickname. At this point, it would feel unnatural to call him by his first name.

"CogsWorth?"

Your hand subconsciously touched the trunk of the tree as you walked around.

"You asked to meet me?"

He was standing, looking into the distance, presumably thinking.

"Rabbit, you're here..." His fist clenched, but he didn't turn around.

"Yeah, it's been a while."

He nodded.

"so what did you want to meet me here for?" Your hand came off the tree, and you fiddled with one of the fingers of your glove.

"Do you remember the time my father came here?"

You frowned.

"Yes, I do. I was surprised when you wanted to come back here afterward..."

He shifted slightly. Was he nervous?

"How could I not come back? I wouldn't have been able to see you otherwise... It's not like I could not see you again."

You smiled. He changed, but he was still sappy at heart.

"I wouldn't have survived without you."

A frown found its way back onto your face. You could hear the last two words, even if he didn't say them. And you knew it was true. With his Mother leaving him and his father the way he was, he likely would be dead by now without hope. By his father's hand, or his own.

"oh, Cog..." Maybe you weren't mature enough to not use nicknames. It's not like anyone would call you on it.

"I can't survive without you..."

Your heart melted at that, but there was also... something bad forming in your gut.

"Did something... happen?"

He stiffened slightly.

"I can't get anything past you, can I?"

"cog... what..."

"What did I do? What's wrong with me?"

You were confused and taken aback,

"what happened. Cogswoth, that's what I was going to say."

He turned around and looked at you, he had tears in his eyes. But you couldn't tell what expression was behind them.

"I... did something."

You reached out and put a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Cog..?"

"It was a bad thing... but... it didn't make me feel bad."

You were oafishly worried.

You looked at him, trying to read him.

He looked back into your eyes.

It was getting more difficult to read him, as he was being conditioned to keep his expression natural. But he softened up a little around you.

Still, you couldn't tell. But you didn't think he could either.

"My father, he's dead. I'm the man of the house now."

You didn't know what to think. But you knew exactly what he did.

"You think I'm a monster don't you?"

"What? Why would I? You've gone to war... you were even a general."

He grabbed both your hands in one of his own.

"But he was my flesh and blood..."

"CogsWorth, he was horrible. You of all people should know that."

He stared at you.

You stared back.

He slowly brought his hand up to your face, stroking your cheek. You leaned into it, and put your hand on top of his own.

"He said I couldn't marry you..."

"...what?"

"That's why..."

He stroked your hair.

"I don't understand...? Why...?"

He pulled out a ring, with a small blood splatter on it. He quickly put it on your finger and whipped the blood off his thumb.

"Will you marry me, little rabbit?"

~~~~

Back story for one of my ocs! since I just started my blog I will be slowly introducing my various oc's unless someone requests a certain thing. An alphabet for Will/CogsWorth might be coming soon, probably.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL) Valentine's Chocolate gift to Reader from AR, DEFY, 404, Griffin, and Sangvis

With today being Valentine's, I am obligated to make a post. Instead of just choosing a few raifus, I will include: EVERYONE. No one gets left behind during Valentines on my watch!

Anti-Rain Team

(From Left to Right: M4 SOPMOD II, ST AR-15, M4A1, RO635, M16A1)

M4A1

(M4A1) "Here. A token of my gratefulness, please accept it. The others will misunderstood this? ...Well that's good for you."

M4 really doesn't care what the other T-Dolls think. As long as (Y/N) was happy, she was happy.

After stoically gifting them the chocolate, her expression softens, seeing the smile on their face.

What she wasn't ready for was some chocolate being gifted back to her. She is flustered for only a moment before giving a gentle smile back.

(M4A1) "How about we share the chocolate together, (Y/N)?"

==

M4 SOPMOD II

(M4 SOPMOD II) "(Y/N), will you stop by today? There are plenty of sweets!"

SOPMOD is extremely excited about getting to taste all the chocolate with zero of the drawbacks.

But she also makes sure to share some with (Y/N), something that immediately catches everyone's attention.

Normally if anyone tried to get a hand on her chocolate, she'd go ballistic.

(M4 SOPMOD II) "Mmm! This tastes good! Here, open your mouth, I'll give you some!"

==

ST AR-15

(ST AR-15) "Have the other girls given you chocolate, (Y/N)? I... I'll do my best too! I won't admit defeat, whether in love or on the battlefield."

Regardless if the chocolate was strictly platonic, it gets STAR fired up.

She makes sure that her chocolate tastes the best out of everyone, dragging (Y/N) along to ensure no one else can try to upstage her!

STAR would prove her love, right then and there!

Of course, she's too fired up to realize that she had used "love" in her wording.

(ST AR-15) "Now let's see, where are the ingredients around here...?"

==

M16A1

(M16A1) "Honestly I'm not too interested, but please take one."

M16 is uncharacteristically bashful, fidgeting with her fingers as (Y/N) takes the chocolate.

She sighs in relief when they're distracted eating the chocolate, and even moreso when they smile.

She wipes her nonexistent sweat from her head and gives a toothy grin.

(M16A1) "Oh thank god!...N-Nothing, don't worry about it!"

==

RO635

(RO635) "(Y/N)!...Ummm...what I wanted to say was...here! You understand right?! These are my feelings!"

RO is on the verge of breaking down from her anxiety alone.

Upon hearing (Y/N) thanking her and taking a happy bite of her chocolate, she exhales deeply and blushes.

When they sit down next to her, offering some of the chocolate back, she can't help but scoot in a little closer. After all, it was just them in the room.

(RO635) "T-Thank you for accepting the chocolate...and, me..."

==

Task Force DEFY

(From Left to Right: AN-94, AK-12, Angelia, AK-15, RPK-16)

AK-12

(AK-12) "That damn AN-94 forcing me to receive this chocolate. Ah, (Y/N). Are you hungry? I got sweets."

12 doesn't particularly care about Valentine's, but eh. It was convenient that (Y/N) was nearby.

Sitting down with them, they both share their chocolate as she grumbled that AN-94 had made way too much for her.

But a little part of her was still thankful, for both the gift, and being able to give it to (Y/N).

(AK-12) "Hm, I bet you must be happy about getting chocolate from me.~"

==

AN-94

(AN-94) "I prepared chocolate for everyone. This one is for you, (Y/N), and this one is for...I'll send it to her later."

94 had made some chocolate for her squad already, but for (Y/N), it was just as special for them as it was for AK-12.

She watches with a blank expression as they take a bite, smiling in approval.

Finally, a warm smile grows across her lips as she nods in satisfaction.

(AN-94) "Is it to your liking?...I am glad."

==

AK-15

(AK-15) "(Y/N), here's the chocolate that I made, please accept it. It was made with strict adherence to the recipe, despite the annotations that were made. Why is that, you ask? I heard there was a rule for that, apparently."

15 doesn't really get why this even became a tradition.

But if it made the ones she cared for happy, maybe it wasn't a complete waste of time.

She simply nods once she knows that her chocolate was satisfactory.

(AK-15) "Thank you for your help as always, (Y/N)."

==

RPK-16

(RPK-16) "Eh? A chocolate? Ah, that's no good! I totally forgot about it…just kidding! (Y/N), as thanks for all of your support, please take this from me! By the way, that was a most interesting reaction you made there."

16 smiles as she hands the chocolate over to (Y/N), enjoying their reaction to the taste even more.

It was always interesting to see what a human's reaction was to candy, especially from someone they apparently liked.

And judging by their reaction, she could assume they were quite fond of her.

(RPK-16) "Now, I wonder how you'll be when you have to give the chcoolate to me, (Y/N)?"

==

Angelia

(Angelia) "Thanks for the gift, but I haven't got the time to prepare you something in return. How about a piece of information that's of equal value? For example, I've been trying to arrange Helian's mixers these last few days and it's been driving me… What? You're not interested?"

Angelia pops a piece of chocolate into her mouth as she shrugs.

Their loss.

She can't help the slight blush that appears on her cheeks when she sees just how happy (Y/N) was.

(Angelia) "...Remind me to get you some chocolate tonight too, (Y/N)."

==

Squad 404

(From Left to Right: G11, HK416, UMP45, UMP9)

UMP45

(UMP45) "(Y/N), I made this chocolate for you. Of course, I also prepared enough for everyone else…It's not bad, right?"

UMP45 has a smug grin, watching (Y/N)'s reaction. But it quickly melts into a more genuine smile as her shoulders relax.

She tries not to make a big deal out of it, and moves to give the chocolate to her squadmates.

But she kept an eye on (Y/N), making sure to note their preferences in her head.

(UMP45) "Hm...Guess I should've made theirs heart-shaped after all."

==

UMP9

(UMP9) "(Y/N), you received so much chocolate today, isn't it too much?…That's why, a little more won't hurt right? hehe♪"

UMP9 happily puts her chocolate into their arms, giggling.

She hopes that her chocolate will be the one they remember the most tonight.

She watches earnestly as they take a bite, getting even more giddy at their positive reaction.

(UMP9) "It's good, right?!"

G11

(G11) "(Y/N), It's the holiday. I need rest…are you treating me dinner? That would be good really nice~"

G11 yawns but accompanies (Y/N) for free food.

Well...that and the fact it was (Y/N).

Hopefully the fact she was even tagging along would tell them all they needed to know.

(G11) "Mmm...Oh, right...Happy Valentine's.."

HK416

(HK416) "My chocolate was made with perfectly calculated ingredients. Ehh? It tastes weird? You jest."

At first she wonders what went wrong before realizing that (Y/N) lips had formed into a smirk.

They were teasing her.

She can't help but pout, crossing her arms, but with one eye open to watch them take a bite out of her chocolate.

(HK416) "Hmph. Fine, be that way you, you little shit."

Griffin

(From Left to Right: Springfield, G36, Helianthus, Kalina, SPAS-12, WA2000)

Helianthus

(Helianthus) "Chocolate? For me? Humph, this is just some childish game for young people…Wait, I didn't say I wouldn't accept it!"

Helian panics when (Y/N) is taking away the chocolate, but its only after she grabs it that she realized she was acting too desperately.

Thankfully, (Y/N) didn't notice, or they chose not to say anything.

Both options made her pride hurt a little less.

(Helianthus) "A-Ahem! Thank you, (Y/N)...If you wouldn't mind, would you like to share some with me?"

==

Kalina

(Kalina) "Here, chocolate~! Uh, you want me to be more ceremonious about it? That depends on how much you invest in my White Day chocolate, heheh!"

After rubbing her hands together greedily like a fly, she watches (Y/N) pop one of the chocolates into their mouth.

And good, they liked it! And if they wanted her to be a little more lovey dovey, they'd have to work for it!

Kalina was not a cheap gal, and she sure as hell wasn't going to act like one.

(Kalina) "Alrighty, now share some with me!...What, it's valentine's for me as much as it is for you!"

==

Springfield

(Springfield) "This is my handmade chocolate, please taste some."

Springfield has a gentle expression that beams even brighter watching S/O chow down.

She was worried that it was a little too sweet, but clearly there was nothing to fear.

She wipes a little bit of chocolate off their cheek, giving a warm smile.

(Springfield) "If you want some more, please let me know. I'm always happy to bake for you."

==

WA2000

(WA2000) "I just happen to have some extra chocolate! I won't forgive you if you turn it down!"

WA blushes madly as she hands the chocolate to them.

When they aren't looking, she sighs in relief and turns around to hide her smile.

(Y/N) offers one of the chocolates to her, which she avoids eye contact, but somehow turns an even brighter shade of red.

(WA2000) "I've already had a lot today but...I guess I don't mind having some more."

==

SPAS-12

(SPAS-12) "I, um, ended up eating half of the chocolates I was going to give to you, ahahah…Hmm? You don't mind? Oh, I'm glad!"

SPAS gladly gifted them the half empty box of chocolate. She honestly felt bad that she had eaten some, but she couldn't help it!

It's not her fault they tasted so good!

Her robotic heart skips a beat when (Y/N) offered her one more piece, despite she had eaten more than her fair share.

(SPAS-12) gasp "THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!"

==

G36

(G36) "(Y/N)? Even if it's valentine's day, please restrain yourself from gorging too heavily on chocolate. You will get cavities."

After determining the amount they had received would not be dangerous for their teeth, G36 allowed them to have her chocolate.

Truthfully, she was thankful that they seemed to like it. With Springfield's help, it was a chocolate truly to die for.

Her scowl eases up a little as (Y/N) came into vision, giving a smile.

(G36) "How does it taste? I hope it's to your liking."

==

Sangvis

(From Left to Right:Scarecrow, Hunter, Architect, Gager)

Scarecrow

(Scarecrow) "I do not have chocolate to give. I do not know how to make any, I'm a T-Doll, not a baker."

Instead, being gifted chocolate, she stares at the heart-shaped box, unblinking.

Finally relenting, she opened the box and slowly detaches her face mask.

She takes out one piece of chocolate, splits it in half, then offers it to (Y/N).

(Scarecrow) "Here. We wil eat together."

==

Architect

(Architect) "Finally, I can have all the chocolate I want, and NO ONE can judge me! Here, take some too!"

Architect happily shares her chocolate stash with (Y/N), gorging herself without a care in the world.

She makes sure that (Y/N) can get a few pieces, but if they even THINK about reaching for their half, they're dead!

She hums playfully as she savors the taste of each one.

(Architect) "Pretty good, huh?! Oooh, I hope Halloween there's even MORE candy we can get together!"

==

Gager

(Gager) "I didn't want to be shown up by those Griffin Dolls, so here. Chocolate made by me."

Gager leans in expectantly, watching for (Y/N)'s reaction to her chocolate.

Upon seeing their smile, she leans back and nods confidently.

At least this time, she could show up the other T-Dolls without it causing some tension...Unless someone was aiming for (Y/N) too. That she could not allow.

(Gager) "If you ever want more, you know who the right person to call is."

Hunter

(Hunter) "I would say I have procured these chocolates from a worthy prey...but I just bought them."

She wishes she could've hunted this instead, but it'll do.

Hunter has her arms crossed casually as (Y/N) takes a few of her chocolates.

She hums in approval, taking one of the chocolates for herself.

(Hunter) "I think I could give you something more exotic than chocolate next year...Unless you have some time right now?"

[tanith-rhea]

So i have a miranda hilmarson x reader fic request. Basically some hurt/comfort where reader isnt used to being listened to/always hides their feelings and cries a lot at night, and miranda finds out and comforts them

Knight in Shining Armour

Hey anon, thank you for the request and sorry for the wait! In this one reader is a person going through some relationship problems, and it gets pretty bad to the point police are involved. Miranda is asked to be a lookout for a few nights at reader's place to make sure their ex won't attempt anything. So WARNINGS for domestic violence, some stockholm syndrome and mentions of people disregarding reader's abuse aside from all the angst that is already implied by that.

Word count: 1.5k

You thought it would get better. Your mom said it wasn't that bad, and if you made an effort, he'd start treating you well again. Kiss you more gently, soothe your bruises and even one day stop making them.

It did not. No matter how hard you tried, he would still come home angry, and anything in front of him was a reason to turn furious. Candlelit dinners were too fussy, watching football together was annoying because you knew nothing about it, going for walks was stupid, playing games, was frustrating, and talking was simply unbearable.

"I can't hear your whiny voice right now. If you utter a single word, I swear to god I'll crash your head in this table."

And then it was over. You woke up in a hospital bed, in one of those rooms with six other patients separated by baby-blue curtains, and a short woman in smart pants and jacket was looking at you.

"Hello, Miss y/l/n, I'm detective Griffin," she said matter of factly, looking at you in expectance.

"Detective? Why are you here?"

"You were beaten and almost killed by a man currently missing. One of your neighbours heard a commotion at your house last night and called the police, we found you unconscious in the kitchen and no signs of who assaulted you."

You thought detectives only dealt with murder cases, at least police ones; although you only knew what you saw on tv shows.

"Were you robbed?"

"No," you eyed her, wondering where he was. Would he come back home? Could you work this out and be ok again?

"Did you know the person who put you here?" her face was guarded but you could tell she knew what this was about. She was trying to help you. She'll eventually figure out I don't need help. I need him.

Later you were able to leave the hospital. You had a concussion but the doctor said you should be fine if you were careful and rested more when you got home. You didn't go home straight away, though, you were brought in for questioning at the station. Couldn't they interview you at your house? Where you'd be comfortable? You just wanted to bolt from there and look for him so maybe you could put this all behind you.

They asked a lot of things, some questions were the same, only phrased differently and they figured the one that did this to you was your partner. It was your fault, really. He'd asked for you to buy beer before going to work and you forgot. When he came back there was no beer so he left cross and returned drunk.

They sent you home with a tall blond woman. She tried to make conversation but you were too fed up and exhausted to entertain her. She seemed sweet, and you couldn't help but think she didn't fit as a police officer. Sure, she was tall and strong and intimidating, but as soon as you passed first impressions, she was the embodiment of a golden retriever.

You arrived, and she explained again that she'd be staying for two days surveying the street for any signs he might come back to harm you. You didn't want it, you wanted him back, but they didn't care about that.

The first night was torment. You called your mother to tell her what happened and she didn't show much concern. She said, "You made your bed, now lay in it" dismissing your worry he might not come back.

In the beginning, when you were scared and wanted to end things with him, your mother said it was your fault if he was not satisfied, you had to be a better girl for him. Now you were seven years in, and you were convinced that was the only type of love you would ever get, the hard-fought-for one, the kind you had to earn, not just receive.

You were desperate, crying till your eyes ran dry and your throat felt sore. Your bedsheets were a mess of twisted corners you held onto through the night, white knuckles only stained by a few red marks from when he held you down on the terrace floor when you had the idea of a picnic on the apartment's roof.

She was still outside the other day. Inside the car on the other side of the street. You slept for two hours and looked like less, your hair a mess and yesterday's clothes. Did she eat? She didn't leave the car for almost fourteen hours now, no way she had proper food there.

You didn't eat yourself but microwaved some of the leftover lasagna in the fridge and walked to the car.

"Everything ok?" she downed the window and looked at you from head to toe and back up, "You need anything? I can't enter and help you but I can call someone."

"I just brought you food," you shoved the container in her face and turned to leave.

"I meant it..." she called, "I won't go inside because I'm not supposed to let him get even near you, I have to keep looking. But I know a friend that could help maybe help you, he does energy work."

It was sweet how much she seemed to care, but you didn't need help. You just turned again and went inside.

This was the last night she would be looking. You were still desolate, but something made you act, maybe desperation to know or to have something to occupy your mind.

You searched through the drawers and your shared closet, some clothes were missing, his favourites. The money hidden underneath the sink in the biscuit jar was gone. You checked your bank account on your phone and sure enough, it was empty. He was not coming back.

You wailed. You lowered yourself to the kitchen floor, near the blood stain on the table, and hugged yourself while you screamed more than cried. It was all over. You would never have love again, not any. With your eyes closed, and ears ringing from the force of the muscles twisted in your forehead and neck, you didn't hear the door being kicked open, or the hurried steps towards the kitchen. You only felt arms around you and a hand on your face, trying to make you look up.

"Shhh... it's all right. Shit you scared me," it was Miranda, her nametag was only a few centimetres away from your face, "Thank God you're alright."

You clung to her, fingers twisting the blue fabric on her shoulders desperately.

"I'm not alright," you whispered, almost unable to speak "He's not coming back"

She tensed for a few seconds, not breathing, before sitting by your side and pulling you to her. You sat between her legs and she hugged you to her chest.

"How do you know?" she asked softly after your crying subsided to sobs and whimpers.

You unlocked your phone and showed the bank account. She tightened her arms around you with a deep sigh. It almost seemed as if she was relieved, her shoulders dropping. Her chin resting on your hair.

"We will find him, and arrest him, and you'll get your money back."

"As if I care about money... I want him back," you scoffed, impressed at how bitter you managed to sound.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she seemed almost livid, did she care? "Look at what he did to you! Why would you want to be with someone like him?"

"Because he loves me," you said automatically. It was obvious he did, he just showed it in harsher ways.

"I'm sorry, but that is absurd."

She seemed quite confident. You didn't respond to it, deep down you knew love was supposed to be kinder, but lying was better than nothing at all, wasn't it?

"I mean, if he loved you he would never hurt you like this. He would take care of you, comfort you, caress you and not punch you or bang your head on a table."

It hurt so much. She was telling the truth, but somehow the thought of it hurt so much more than any spanking. You started crying again, hiding your face in her uncomfortable vest.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry," she whispered "Here, let me take care of you," she hugged you tighter, enveloping you completely in her arms, and played with your hair until you were almost dozing off.

After, she encouraged you to take a shower and heated the rest of the lasagna for you to eat. She watched you the entire time, talking about silly or unimportant things to distract you. You saw right through her.

When it was dark outside, you watched some television together, and she told you about this guy, the brother of her colleague, who she thought could help you heal. She offered to keep in contact and you agreed to it. When you started to softly snore on her shoulder, she woke you up and led you to bed, telling you she would be just outside on the couch, and you finally had a peaceful sleep. No one kicking you or rolling around in the bed. Just you, and your knight in shining armour outside.

[audi0med1c]

Clexa Modern AU as Celebrity Exes- "Is It Over Now?"

CHAPTER 1- THE RESTAURANT

The absolute last thing Clarke wanted to see tonight on her rare chance to dine out was Lexa fucking Woods.

Lexa Woods, in her signature dark grey Armani suit.

On a date.

Before she could successfully grab her best friend's arm to duck out and choose another restaurant, those green eyes flick over and meet hers, as if she had been waiting on her to arrive.

"Shit you gotta be fucking kidding me." She hisses, earning a concerned look from the dark-haired girl just in front of her.

"What?" The girl says, looking Clarke up and down for something wrong.

"She's fucking HERE."

"Who is?" The girl says, turning to scan the dining room.

Clarke grabs her arm to stop her from turning, "No don't look don't-" but winces when it's clearly too late. Both of their eyes meet those green ones still locked onto them.

Lexa is holding a glass of red wine, and raises it slightly in their direction, shooting them her signature grin that Clarke would love to walk over and smack right off her annoyingly beautiful face.

"We can go somewhere else, Clarke, come on."

A flash goes off outside, as the first of what will eventually be many paparazzi snaps a picture through the restaurant's front window.

"No," Clarke says, "I'm not giving her that satisfaction."

They wait to be seated, and as the waiter is pouring their first glasses of wine the third member of their party arrives, fashionably late as always.

"Um since when do they seat VIPs off in the corner? Wasn't the reservation under Clarke Griffin? Your art is literally hanging in their lobby."

Clarke hates when Raven uses that term, as she never expects or cares about getting any sort of special treatment anywhere. Actually she'd prefer blending in and being invisible most of the time.  

"We aren't the only VIPs tonight." Clarke uses the term sarcastically, nodding her head in the direction over the girl's shoulder, "And I requested this table, so just sit Raven."

"Ohhhh damn what are the odds of that?" Raven chuckles, pulling out her seat and taking a long sip of wine, shooting a glance at the other girl with them.

"Octavia stop looking, Jesus." Clarke kicks the girl's shin under the table.

Clarke had asked for the table on the far side of the dining room, away from as much of the crowd as possible, and took the seat that kept Lexa mostly in her line of sight without having to turn her head and be obvious.

"She's still watching you." Octavia says, not even trying to hide looking over her shoulder at the pair behind them.

"Ugh ok maybe I can't fucking stay here." Clarke motions to their waitress.

Raven is typing on her phone under the table, which Octavia catches out of the corner of her eye.

Raven: You didn't think to tell me Lexa was coming here tonight???

The three dots hover in the bottom corner for what feels like forever.

Anya: How would I know that?!?! Wait who is she there with??

Raven: A blonde. A HOT blonde.

Anya: Oh god. Can't wait to hear about this when you get home.

Clarke catches Raven typing on her phone under the table, and then notices Lexa casually check her phone a few seconds later and shoot another grin in her direction.

"Really Rae?" Clarke says, annoyed, "Can you leave Anya out of this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl says not even trying to hide her smile. 

The waitress, a bubbly young girl with short bouncy auburn curls looks nervous when she approaches.

"Yes Ms. Griffin, are you ready to order?" Clarke is always sure to be overly nice to waitstaff, or any staff when she is out in public. She honestly hates most of the things that come with being so easily recognizable, particularly the stereotype of celebrities being entitled, petulant, or conceited. It's not something she intentionally sought, or even thought was possible when she pursued art full-time after college and found her own moderate success. Any level of celebrity status could never go to her head, as she will always be the small-town girl from the East Coast town of Polis, who grew up with next to nothing and never quite felt like she belonged in a place like L.A. to begin with.

But dating one of Hollywood's hottest A-listers will certainly put you on people's radar.

Clarke leans in towards the waitress, "Actually, we will take the check for the wine, I completely forgot about a previous commitment I need to get to, but can I order a bottle of Dom Perignon, for the table right over there before we go?" She motions with her head towards the table where Lexa is now very obviously pretending to laugh at whatever the bimbo across from her is saying.

"Of course, will that be all for you tonight?"

"Actually, if I give you an extra hundred dollars, will you relay a message when you bring over the bottle? A toast of sorts."

The two girls across from her are trying to keep a straight face, but watch wide-eyed as Clarke whispers something into the waitresses' ear, and hands over her Amex card.

The girl's face when she straightens up is a mix of nervous and giddy, understanding the context of the request.

The history of the two patrons was no secret – it had been front page of the tabloids for months after their very public, very messy breakup. Now it was just the simple annoyance of whatever bullshit spin came out of their occasional run-ins or when they attended the same events.

"I'll be right back." Clarke says, pushing back from the table to stand. 

"Wait where are you going?" Octavia calls after her.

"Bathroom." She replies over her shoulder, heading towards the hallway on the far end of the dining hall. She made sure to keep her eyes straight ahead as she walked past the brunette and her date nonchalantly, but the familiar aroma of Dior perfume crawled up her nostrils and she hated how good it smelled.

It reminded her of silk sheets and long nights, her hands sliding over hips and thighs and feeling the hot breath of whispered sighs.

Don't you dare. She thought to herself, shaking the memories from her head. 

She stared at herself a good long while in the bathroom, both expecting and dreading the door to open. When it doesn't, she touches up her red lipstick, adjusts herself in her skin-tight black cocktail dress so her already exposed cleavage is just a tad more on display, and heads back out to the dining room.

Her friends are already at the hostess stand, waiting for her before heading out past the now moderate amount of paparazzi that must have heard her and Lexa were spotted in public at the same place for the first time in months.

A small grin tugs at her lips as she passes the brunette's table, noting the new bottle of vintage champagne that sits opened with two glasses poured but not being touched, and a now slightly miffed date that shoots up an embarrassed look when she notices Clarke passing by.

Clarke bends over far more than necessary as she signs the bill left on the table, tipping an additional $50 on top of the $100 she promised because the look on the young girl's face was honestly better than she could have hoped for and collects her Amex card. As she heads to join her friends at the front she hears a muffled voice from behind apologize and excuse themselves as they stand up from their table.

The warning looks on her friends' faces tell her to expect the hand that tugs her backwards as she reaches the hostess stand, pulling her to the side at the front of the restaurant.

The velvety scent of Dior wafts into her nose again, and those green eyes are much closer to her than they need to be, but she doesn't step back. At least not yet.

"Really Clarke?" Comes the expected reprimand, "Here's to the search for something greater? Classy."

"She's practically my clone." Clarke shrugs sharply.

Lexa remains unamused.

"Hardly, she's missing your signature....what is it..." Lexa dramatically gestures with her hand, searching for the right word... "Soul-sucking abrasiveness."

"Fuck off, Lexa."

"There's that mouth." Grinned the brunette.

"Bet you miss this mouth." Clarke shoots back.

Lexa's grin widens, "Actually yeah, just had a dream about it the other night."

"You dream of my mouth before or after it called you a lying traitor?"

Lexa takes a slight step closer to the blonde, ignoring the camera flashes going off outside the front window.

"You've called me worse." She utters smugly.

"I said fuck off Lex."

"Or you could fuck me yourself."

Clarke tries not to show how caught off-guard she is by the quick retort, and especially tries to hide how flustered she suddenly is. She leans into her annoyance at the brazen overconfidence.

"Pretty sure it's the only way you'd be getting fucked tonight...I know a pillow princess when I see one, and THAT," she nods her head back in the direction of Lexa's table and abandoned date, who's now anxiously sipping on her wine, trying not to be obvious at her constant glances towards the pair at the front of the restaurant, "That right there is a girl who is here for the free dinner, the free drinks, and the free orgasms after and that's it."

"Make me a better offer then." Lexa smiles as she tries to step even closer, but Clarke pushes back with a hand up at the girl's shoulder that was now inches away from her.

"There is no offer. I'm surprised you haven't run out of blonde models by now anyway, so enjoy however many you have left before you have to slum it with some brunettes."

"Heyyyyy!!" Raven and Octavia chime from the door, pretending to be offended. Both had been inching closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"You never run out of blonde models in LA." Lexa shrugs, "But I don't even know her. I'm just doing my agent a favor, and she's who suggested coming here. What was I supposed to do say 'no actually this was my ex's favorite place and she might possibly be here on this one random Wednesday night?'"

"Sure why not?"

Lexa rolls her eyes, "Are we jealous Clarkey?"

"WE...aren't anything." Clarke snaps, motioning between the two of them.

"Well WE..." Lexa gestures back towards her table, "Aren't anything either...so can you drop the hostility?"

Clarke muses over the girl at the table, "Blue eyes, that's enough for at least a few dates by your standards."

"You're practically insulting yourself at this point you know..." Lexa huffs amusingly. She was having way too much fun getting a rise out of Clarke. The blonde purses her lips, her eyes dropping down to the plush lips in front of her quickly but not quick enough, because Lexa catches it and takes her bottom lip between her teeth, dropping her own eyes to Clarke's mouth for a prolonged moment before bringing them back up to meet blue eyes.

"Can I go now?" Clarke says annoyed, "Your date is waiting."

"She can stay waiting." Lexa breathes as she dares reach a hand around Clarke's lower back, but the blonde is quick to swat her away and step backwards.

"This is not happening...."

"Again." Lexa adds with a smirk.

Clarke rolls her eyes.

"This is not happening again." She corrects. The last time she showed up at Lexa's penthouse she had convinced herself was only out of convenience. It had been a while since she'd gotten laid and the thought of meaningless small talk with a stranger or worse, someone she'd have to face again at work or in some overlapping social circle was too much of a headache. So when she ran into Lexa at a nightclub nearby and got a simple text at bar close saying "Damn Griffin, I know you wore that dress tonight just so I could take it off you.  Door is unlocked."  She figured it technically wasn't much different than any other one-night stand.

Right?

But in this moment she regrets having fed into the already overinflated ego that is Lexa Woods: Actress, musician, and professional flirt.

She will deal with the heat between her thighs and knot forming in her lower stomach later. If not with whatever name responds first when she leaves here, then with one of her many battery-powered friends in her nightstand.

"Whatever you say, Clarke." The brunette finally scoffs nonchalantly, and with one final lick of her lips, Lexa gives one more intentional glance down at Clarke's mouth before turning to head back into the dining hall, making a show of her return to her table by reaching for the waiting girl's hand and placing a quick kiss on the back of it before taking her seat again and lifting her champagne glass to cheers.

"Damn Clarke I'm impressed... I would have folded." Raven admits, opening the door as they rush out to a waiting town car, flashes immediately going off as soon as they are outside.

"Clarke! Clarke!" A few of the photographers try to get her attention, but she puts a hand up to try and block her face as Octavia gets the car door open.

"Clarke! How do you feel about Lexa bringing a date to your guys' spot?"

"Clarke what did Lexa say to you before you left?"

"Do you enjoy getting paid to harass people?" Raven harps at the small crowd as she follows Clarke and Octavia into the back seat.

Once the door is closed and they pull away, Clarke sighs, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

"Well if you want her, have at it." She says almost dejectedly. "I told you, it's over between us."

Raven and Octavia exchange a quick glance before Raven squeaks out a response, cocking her head inquisitively.

"I mean.... is it really over now?"

------------------------------------------------- 

Follow along this rollercoaster contest of who can act like they care less....

archive link here

wattpad:

[crowsintheforest]

finished veilguard. that was the best bioware's been since mass effect 3, and I'm saying that as someone who really liked andromeda. I think it's still below dao and da2 overall, but it soars above most of dai, and the combat was--despite my misgivings--quite fun to play!

...once I turned off the close combat alerts, because idk, I could not get the parry to click until I was only watching animations.

light spoilers below the cut, mostly just a lot of rambling

overall, not the best bioware game ever, but at least a top 5? the first act feels both extremely rushed and not moving fast enough, but the game has fun story choices (suicide mission, companion quests/chats, a top tier act 3), enough distance from the continuity snarls by virtue of time skip of 10 years + location move to the north, and the Good Good Boys (assan and manfred). I loved pretty much everyone in the main party, and I was deeply fond of a lot of npcs. the end battle that showed off everyone you helped had me going "hey I like that person! look at the crows go! oh no strife, don't get stabbed, your boyfriend will be so sad if you die!!!"

while there aren't villains on the level of howe or loghain, or meredith and orsino (maybe johanna comes closest, but she's just delightfully evil more than deep or interesting), elgar'nan and ghilan'nain are excellent examples of the "mwahaha Evil" villains that were sorely missing from corypheus. some of it is the connection to solas and the story/lore for the elvhen and the blight--speaking of which, this is the best/most horrific the blight has been since dao, so good job bioware! it was horrifying! very moist and squishy and bad!

anyways. elgar'nan and ghilan'nain. they're competently written and excellently performed villains, whose actions are felt directly and personally throughout the story. also ghilan'nain has mouths for eyes and tooooo many arms. great design choices. solid villains. more importantly, solid consequences. which dai and mea felt like they were missing.

maybe the thing that hits my brain at the most interesting angle, though, are the overall themes of moving on after loss, and regret, and the cycles of death and life. it's most explicit with solas's backstory and relationship to mythal and the veil, but it pops up with taash and their mom and qunari heritage, with harding and the titans, with bellara and her brother and the evanuris, with the mourn watch and their everything (ilu nevarra). even the wardens trying to figure out who they are when they don't die, with flowers blooming again and the griffins returning but with new or different purpose.

I'd love to ask trick weekes and the bioware writers how much the 10 year dev cycle, the "death" of the "old" bioware, and the gentle attempts to move on from the extremely tangled lore, were involved in their thoughts about the game's themes. regret is powerful enough to imprison gods. moving on is hard if you can't face the past and try to move forward. but the game insists you have to, or you'll always be stuck in prisons you made for yourself, rather than choosing to try for something new and better in the wreckage of the old.

finally: the thing with varric--I called it. I fucking knew it. I called it before I'd finished act 1. I have discord message proof.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 1a

*Warning Adult Content*

The Blood Pack - Part 1 - Kao

You know that feeling when you want to punch someone in the face?

Because that's the feeling I have as I look up at the stupid Alpha that's caught me sneaking an extra ration for my son, Oliver.

God forbid the Omegas who toiled long hours to prepare the food actually get to eat it.

We'd already been pushed to the back of the line by the Alphas and when we finally got to the front there was barely anything left, the plates picked clean.

But Oliver is eight years old, he's a growing Alpha.

He needs to eat... I don't care if I don't... he needs all the nutrition he can get.

But apparently that's a problem to this dickhead Alpha that's gripping my wrist so hard that I'll bruise, demanding I take the food out of my pocket.

"Get off me," I snap back, trying my best to pull back from his strong hold and he growls.

"Don't talk back, Omega. I saw you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I deny and  I swear I can see the veins in his temples close to popping.

Then he yanks me towards him.

I yelp in surprise, stumbling and dropping Oliver and my plates.

I curse, glaring up at the Alpha.

"What am I going to feed him now?"

"What you got in your pocket should be enough," he leers, licking his lips as he gets a closer look at me and his eyes trail down my figure.

"If you don't want me to report this to Alpha Zacan, how about we settle this somewhere more private."

I can smell his putrid breath and it nearly makes me gag.

I lean away in disgust, worriedly glancing at Oliver who watches on with wide, fearful eyes.

I don't want this to escalate in front of him.

"Please, sir," I try the polite route through gritted teeth but the man doesn't let go.

"You either come obediently or I drag you. Do you want to make a scene in front of your boy?" he sneers before groping my ass with his other hand.

Mortified, I attempt to push him away again, more forcefully, which earns me a sharp glare of annoyance.

He tightens his grip and I wince as he twists my wrist to an unnatural angle.

I've had worse but it hurts like hell and I have to bite the inside of my cheek in order not to cry out.

"Stop hurting my Mama," Oliver suddenly shouts, drawing attention from onlookers.

Before I can register what's happening, he pulls out a heavy-looking rock from his pants and hurls into the Alpha's face.

There's a loud crunch, blood spouting from the man's face.

"Fuck," he shouts, letting go of me to clutch his probably broken nose in pain.

"What the fuck is wrong with your brat?" another Alpha approaches, giving a look that could kill to Oliver and I.

I hold him protectively, heart beating a million miles a minute.

This can't be good... we're in big trouble.

"Koa. It has come to my attention that your son has injured one of my men?" Zacan asks in that cold, emotionless voice of his.

He's sitting in his grand carved oak chair, Alpha guards on each side of him as if he were a king.

Well, he's the Alpha of our pack, the Blood Pack, so it makes sense he feels that way.

Everyone treats him like a God out of fear of what he'll do to them if they step out of line.

I'm shaking, barely able to look up.

I haven't had to face him like this since that time, what feels like so long ago.

I hate how scared I am and I hate him even more.

I hate him so much for what he did to me.

"It was an accident," I try to keep my voice from wavering.

"Throwing a rock in Griffin's face was an accident? I don't think so."

'Griffin can go fuck himself for all I care.'

That's what I really want to say but I don't.

"He's only eight..." I start to defend my child but Oliver interrupts me.

"I was protecting my Mama. That bad man was hurting him..."

As much as I adore the statement, I want to tell him to shut up.

How's not the time to be all sweet.

Not when our lives are at stake.

At Oliver's outburst, Zacan thick eyebrows go up in surprise before he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back so his blond hair glints in the light of the lantern on the ceiling.

His laughter makes me sick.

The last time I heard it... I shiver, trying not to think about it again.

"I guess I should be proud of you then, boy, for being so protective over your 'Mama'," his smile is cruel as he says the words, sharp green eyes flitting to me as he says the last word.

My palms are so sweaty where they're clasped below my waist, wound tight with anxiety.

He won't figure it out. He can't.

When neither me nor Oliver reply, he speaks again.

"But know this, little one," he addresses my son once again.

"An Omega's place is below an Alpha's. They don't get to go against us. Not even your mother. When Griffin wants Koa, he gets him."

Oliver looks to me, brows knit together in confusion and fear.

I've taught him that's not true, so for someone so powerful to contradict me must be hard for him.

I just give him a small nod, signaling to him that it's okay.

All he has to do is go along with whatever Zacan wants to say and then we can get out of here.

That is, if a talking to is the only punishment we're getting.

"I'm glad to see you agree with me, Koa. It's good that you know where you stand as an Omega."

'Asshole.'

I bite my tongue, giving him a strained smile.

It feels like it'll break my face from how much I don't want to.

"Thank you, Alpha Zacan," I reply, as much as I hate his name in my mouth.

The Alpha sighs, relaxing in his chair as he surveys the both of us and I hope that'll be it.

But then my worst fear comes true.

"Come here, boy," he beckons Oliver with a finger.

"Want a closer look at you."

Oliver obeys and as much as I want to reach out and stop him, I can't.

No one goes against Zacan's orders. 

When Oliver stops in front of him, I cringe as Zacan reaches out to brush the long bangs out of his face.

"How peculiar your eyes are, boy. Same green as mine. Bright clover," Zacan remarks fondly.

My heart nearly stops.

'No no no no.'

This can't be happening.

He takes a lock of Oliver's wavy hair, twisting it in his finger tips.

"This dark brown doesn't match your eyebrows, either. Is this your natural color?"

I curse the boiled acorn water I use to color his hair that washes out of the short strands of his blond brows no matter how thick I coat them with the substance.

That's why I resorted to letting his hair grow out to cover them.

The Moon Goddess played a mean trick, making my son look more like his father than me.

Oliver has none of my dark auburn curls, my honey eyes.

My light golden-brown skin is absent too from his paler, olive tone.

Even my freckles are barely present and only across his cheeks, meanwhile mine paint my shoulders, back and knees in addition to my face.

Things never really work out in my favor.

But Oliver just nods, keeping his mouth shut.

There's the pride in me that I trained him well, but also the dread of what punishment may come to him if Zacan finds out he's lying.

All is quiet before a cruel smirk breaks out on Zacan's face as he looks to me, taking in my fearful expression.

"See, I just don't believe that."

I want to vomit... I feel like I'll faint... but I stay strong.

No matter what this comes to, my number one priority is Oliver's safety... I'll do whatever I can...

"I'm his father, aren't I?"

My blood goes cold.

"You're not," I deny a bit too quickly, an unnatural pitch in my voice.

"The resemblance is as clear as day, Koa. You would lie to me?"

"Desmond was his father," I insist, using the falsehood I've been keeping up all these years.

It was natural people would ask questions when I got pregnant while unmated and that was the only answer I could come up with.

It hurt, using the identity of someone I loved so dearly and who was gone forever but it was the most believable.

The timeline made sense and so, I've kept it up to this day.

Oliver even believes that Des was his real father... I've never told a soul the truth.

"Ah, the poor Alpha boy who went on a mission and never came back," Zacan looks up to the sky, as if recalling the memories of Des.

Whatever he's remembering, he doesn't seem to care even a little bit.

His indifference to the death of the best friend I ever had, my first love, stings.

I want to wrap my hands around my neck and strangle him until he breathes his last breath... curse him.

"I wish Oliver still had him," I feed into the lie.

Zacan scoffs.

"You wish the boy had his father, yet you deny that I am just that. I am his father. You can't fool me, Omega."

"Y-you're wrong."

I let panic take over, clenching my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.

Zacan just raises an eyebrow at me, indifferent.

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Healing Ties - Chapter 8

*Warning Adult Content*

Fanner kicked and thrashed, trying to fight back against whatever had pulled him into the river but there was only water around him.

He pushed towards the surface but he was dragged back under, as though the water itself was a weight pushing him down.

He felt the water heat around him as his magic came to his defence but whatever he was grappling with didn't seem to care.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't... he couldn't... Something yanked him sharply upwards and he gasped as his head breached the surface.

He could feel his body being sucked back down but the force above him was stronger.

He was pulled from the water and tossed, gasping, onto the riverbank.

Yore stood above him, panting and furious.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Yore demanded but this time he wasn't speaking to Fanner.

He was looking out into the river.

A small, semi-translucent head bobbed out of the water and watched them with dispassionate eyes.

Fanner couldn't make out any parts of its body that were still beneath the water but he wasn't sure if it was because their appearance made them hard to see or if they simply weren't there.

"Drown the human."

Yore held a hand out in Fanner's direction.

"Does that look like a fucking human to you?"

"Hmm..."

The creature tilted its head as it looked at Fanner.

"Yes. Human."

"Really? Humans have hair like that, do they?"

The creature's head bobbled further out of the water.

"Humans have hair. You can't trick me. I know humans have hair."

"Not like that, they don't. Not hair that looks like actual gold made into strands."

The head sunk back into the water until its mouth was halfway submerged.

"Lemme drown you?"

"No. Stop trying to drown people. You're not helping anyone."

"Hmm... but... lemme drown you?"

Yore took a deep breath in, let it out and shook his head.

"This is pointless."

He turned back to Fanner, who lay frozen on the ground where Yore had tossed him.

"You're wet."

Fanner swallowed.

He didn't dare move.

"What did you do to me?"

Fanner didn't respond.

"Okay," Yore let out another sigh. "Get up."

Fanner complied, careful not to do anything that looked like a sudden movement towards Yore.

"Follow me," Yore instructed.

Fanner did as he was told.

Though Yore led the way, Fanner could tell he was keeping one eye on him, making sure he didn't get within grabbing distance.

Yore looked out through the trees, nodded to himself and then pointed to a small boulder.

"Climb up onto this and stand up."

Fanner obeyed.

Yore pointed through the trees.

"You see that thing flying around near the cliff face? The big thing?"

Fanner nodded.

What was that?

It looked too big, too long, too chunky to be a bird.

"That's a griffin," Yore told him. "If you'd have gone much further in that direction, you'd have stumbled into their territory. They're savage things that have young year round that they'll kill to defend without hesitation. And then they will eat you. Do you understand?"

Fanner nodded again.

"You've been safe out here because you've been with me and I know what I'm doing. If you go off on your own, you will die. Some things might spare you because you're not human but there are plenty that don't know or just don't care. I understand that I've given you no reason to trust me but if you try to make it on your own you. Will. Die."

Fanner dropped his head, nodding.

"What did you do to me?" Yore asked again.

Fanner hesitated.

He lifted his head.

"What are you?"

Yore stared back at him for a long, tense moment.

"What do you think I am?"

Fanner looked away.

The amount of energy he'd had, the way he'd talked to that thing in the water, his strange, amber eyes and unusual size.

"I don't know."

"Well, I'm not so sure I know quite what you are anymore either, so I guess we're even."

Yore stared out at the griffins and let out a sigh.

"Come on. I left the bag behind and I'm not about to leave you alone again to go get it. I'm not carrying you anymore either, so I hope you're prepared to walk."

Fanner kept his head down and nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Yore made Fanner walk ahead of him, as though he were dangerous.

He supposed he was but he didn't feel like he was.

He was so used to being the one following that it felt uncomfortable to have someone walk behind him.

Fanner was fairly sure Yore wasn't human.

Fanner had wondered if maybe he just had so much energy because he was such a large man but there was no way.

The difference between how much energy Fanner had taken from Whelan to kill him and how much he'd taken from Yore just to briefly knock him out was massive.

And then there was the way he'd talked to that thing in the water.

It felt like he'd had that conversation before.

Like its inability to correctly identify a human was a personal and ongoing annoyance.

If he truly wasn't human, that changed everything.

It would mean that it wasn't so strange at all that he was out here, that he might have friends close by that Fanner hadn't been aware of.

And he'd turned Fanner down because... well, Fanner still wasn't sure about that one.

Maybe Yore just really didn't find him attractive after all.

Looks were the one thing Fanner did have or at least he'd thought so.

But none of that mattered now because Yore was making it very clear that he wasn't going to let Fanner within touching distance of him again.

It was reasonable but it still hurt.

He wanted to apologise, to explain himself but there were too many other things all tangled up in it that he didn't dare speak about.

No matter how this went, no matter who Yore was and what he had planned, there were certain things about himself that Fanner didn't intend to tell anyone.

He didn't want to be a healer anymore.

It was too dangerous.

He'd spent most of his life as a Companion and though he'd been bad at it at least he hadn't killed anyone.

He would go back to that, if he was given the opportunity or otherwise just... be nothing at all.

Like any Companion he wanted attention and affection heaped on him, wanted to be special to someone but unlike other Companions he didn't need it.

He could keep himself balanced.

Nobody had ever wanted him and that was unlikely to change now, so perhaps it was time to accept that he would always be alone.

[violetjedisylveon]

A Fitting Name

Summary: Eda and Enzo are debating names for the still unnamed baby

Word count: 875

Warnings: none really, this is a pretty soft, tame chapter.

A/N: it's a shorter one, I was adding more but that would fit better in another chapter.

Eda raises two gods AU link here

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"How about Stinky?" Eda stirred the eggs she was cooking with a fork.

"Hey! He's not stinky!" Enzo protested.

"Not anymore." Eda snorted.

Enzo huffed and turned their nose up at her. Eda got back to making breakfast while thinking of names.

"What about Rex?" She suggested.

"Nah, Peanut?" That was the fifth time Enzo suggested food as a name.

"Enzo, you can't name him after food." She told them.

"I'm not-"

"Peanut is the fifth food you've suggested." She pointed out.

Enzo frowned and tugged at the light green t-shirt she'd given them the other day. The clothes he came with were very dirty and smelly, a good wash or two was necessary.

"I'm almost done with breakfast." She told them.

Enzo perked up hearing that. They were such a cute and funny kid.

Speaking of cute and funny, the still unnamed baby demon scampered in at the smell of food. He stopped by a chair and made little squeaks, trying to jump up. Enzo leaned over, scooped him up and put him in his high chair.

Eda plated up the scrambled griffin eggs and sausages for everyone, thoroughly dicing the baby's food so he didn't choke when he inhaled his food, and set them out, then refilled the blood orange juice Enzo was drinking. She'd hardly sat down by the time the baby was already hovering over his food.

Little glutton. She smirked.

"Pig?" She suggested jokingly.

"He's not a pig, he's a-" Enzo broke off as their brother made a snort that sounded incredibly similar to a pig snort.

"I think he's a little piggy." Eda snorted.

"Hmm.... Maybe..." Enzo leaned on their elbows.

"We can get names later, we'll think better with full stomachs." Eda said around a forkful of egg.

Enzo nodded and started eating. The baby was done already and begging for more, he was a bottomless pit since he recovered. One of the tough parts of not knowing what he was was not knowing the proper amount of food to feed him. She didn't want to be feeding him until he couldn't eat anymore every meal but she didn't want to under feed him. At least he understood that food was served at a certain time, he'd always beg for more when they were eating.

Eda spelled a crab apple sauce over to him and watched, chuckling, as he tore into it and licked up everything inside.

XXX

"Silkie cause he's really soft when he's brushed." Enzo suggested.

"But he's crusty when he's not brushed." Eda countered.

Enzo flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh and sat upside down. Eda leaned against the hallway frame and watched them watch their brother. He was building more of those little statues. It was so cute with him trotting around with trash to build with and being extremely selective of what he used.

"I dunno what Dad was gonna call him but I think it should be something that just fits, him." Enzo gestured to him then flailed his arms. "I dunno, I want him to like it." Enzo sighed.

Eda's attention was caught by the baby stumbling as he put the head on a statue. He stood up proudly and made a squeak, he looked like a little king. Enzo giggled with that sorta distant look on their face for a moment.

"Well look at that, a king amongst his subjects." Eda chuckled.

He turned to her and blinked.

"k-King!" He squeaked.

Eda stared as Enzo almost fell off the couch in their hurry to get up. Enzo glanced at her then the baby and back.

"King?" Enzo tried.

"King! King! King!" The baby cheered with a little bounce.

"I think he likes it." Eda said as she went to give him a head scratch.

"Do you like that, King?" Enzo asked, scratching under his chin.

"King!" He squeaked again.

"King it is then." Eda claimed.

"Heh, yeah, King's a good name." The distant look was back.

"I still think Hooty The Second is a better name!" Hooty shouted, opening a window for once instead of breaking it.

"I already told you we aren't naming him after you!" Eda shouted back.

"King! King! King! King! King!" The newly named King trounced around, happily shouting his name.

"Yeah, we've got a King here." Eda snorted as he jumped and leapt into Enzo's arms.

A light bulb of an idea went off in her head. Most kids liked stories, maybe she could come up with some that would entertain the feisty little guy for a bit. She sat down in front of the pair.

"Do you wanna know what else kings do?" She asked.

King nodded eagerly, almost falling back into Enzo in his excitement.

"Kings command powerful armies and eat delicious feasts for every meal. They fight in glorious battles and lay waste to their enemies."

That look on King's face as he listened to the stories she told, fuck it was so cute. Enzo looked much happier too, she hadn't really seen them with such a happy smile since they left their island.

The pair of happy kids was really an adorable sight.

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Did you like the soft chapter?

It's some calm settling in for Enzo and a name for King! And I put Rex in there as a name cause it means king in latin I'm pretty sure.

Thanks to the anon who asked about King's name and gave me the main idea for this chapter!

If you have questions about this au or ideas for stuff, I'll gladly take any. The next chapter is going to focus around Eda taking Enzo out for the first time.

Have a wonderful day!

VJS out!

[sugarakis-p2]

Gamble ch 4: Bad Mate

Rebel proves she is smart, useful, fast and is punished harshly by both Dabi and Shigaraki for it.

Poor Toga!

Awwww they teach Dabi to kiss!

Yeah I went there. There are some regrets, a lot of fluids, more fluids than regrets. I don't mind if you re-blog, or re-post just give me credit. I really love what I write and do work hard at it.

Warning: Double Knotting, non/con, minor death, bad words

Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Bad Mate

Shigaraki was announced to the bored King, who did not bother to look up. "Hoodwink! Your mane is looking lovely!" Hoodwink, the Sphinx, shifts on his throne, his human-like face lighting up in joy upon seeing the female known as Rebel.

"Is that not the human female from the gambling hall?" He asks one of his females, who nodded yes. "Kitten! What brings you to my kingdom? Did your father sell you to some fool?" He eyes Tomura.

"You must have spurned the Count in some way; he would've warned you about this little runner. Not that it would've stopped you, it hasn't stopped many of us." He is now inspecting Tomura Shigaraki with interest.

"I doubt her father would have sold her to you though. Your kind knows the woods as well as kitten. Now that must be an interesting story." He indicates Shigaraki should sit.

"I heard you are an excellent sticks player. I have high-quality rubies. Let's play while my flock feeds and drinks. I can tell you how I caught my little butterfly." He pets Rebel on the head like a dog.

"Yes, yes, such a fine guest. I have not thought highly of your kind in the past, but I am impressed; I can feel my mind changing." Rebel flashes a pouch to a blue-coated female who speaks up.

"ReBell, kitten, you are worse for wear. Your clothes are tattered, and you reek. The females shall retire and fix this." She announces as she walks away. The king ignores her while Tomura nods to his mate in permission. Rebel goes to follow when she notices Toga trailing along. "Aren't you staying here?" "Why? I'm a female too." Rebel doesn't say anything else.

After a bath and fitted in silks, Rebel got to business. Negotiations were frustrating, but she and the flock came out on top. Toga was busy stuffing her face, watching. "Excellent, with these sapphires and your mate, will adhere to our agreement, we both benefit." "Toga has authority in this matter, I'm sure. What do you think, Toga?" "Sounds good," Toga mumbled around mouthfuls of meat. "Then sign here, Toga, and it's all done."

"It was a pleasure as always, Lunar. Excuse me, I have to use the privy." Rebel gets up and walks out of the room calmly. Once she is out of Toga's sight, she breaks into a full-tilt run to the exit. Toga pops in front of her.

"Caught ya! He knew you'd try something like…hey!" Rebel darted into a secret hall with a stone door that slammed shut behind her. Toga pounded for several minutes before saying to an empty hallway, "Tomura is going to kill me." Lucky for her, it was Lunar that delivered the bad news. "She ran away, but on the bright side, she brokered an excellent deal in your favor." She announces to the room, unable to talk to any males. "hmmm, deal?" The king asks, not really caring he was still busy playing sticks with Shigaraki.

"They are taking over the old hive in the forest on the edge of our territory. In return, they will kill any griffins that enter our kingdom; that's five times a year on average. They will kill all the vampire huggers in the lake, and in return, we build a canal to us and the hive. The only catch is that one can't enter the city of Forestdale. That one agreed." She says, pointing to Toga. Shigaraki manages not to kill everything. "Why would you agree to the last part," Shigaraki asks through gritted teeth. "I didn't!" she wails.

"You did, dear. See, it's right here. Rebell added it last second. Contracts are blood bonded, break any part of it, and the signer dies." "Can always find her by scent," Compress says. "She took a bath," Lunar says to Toga. Shigaraki is seething with rage. Toga wails, sure that Tomura is going to get her killed. Rebel knew he could not. Toga was the only viable female in a group of males. Unless he wanted his hive to collapse before it started, he would keep Toga safe.

"I would check my inventory if I were you," Hoodwink said idly. All the diamonds were missing. Tomura is scratching himself until he bled. "Dabi, I have a job for you." "What's in it for me." "Fun." Shig rasps and Dabi smiles.

Three days later, Rebel exited the forest into her family's backyard. Tired and hungry, the family celebrated all night. "Add more meat to the stew," Daddy shouted at Mama and Jenny. Rebel had stolen enough to set them up for two years. All seven of her siblings hugged her. They wept in relief, for both the cash and seeing her alive. It was such a close call she started training three of her sisters and two of her brothers to take her place. They made a tidy profit from the low carat diamonds, fleecing fools who thought they knew better than them, making purse drops and snatches. They had to be good enough to fool mythical creatures and fast enough in the forest to out run them.

It had been two months, and she was for sure pregnant. She was very late and very stressed. She needed to find a husband quick and accepted a date with the dullest fool to ever enter the Index. The Count set it up for her, telling her she could always be with him instead. Like she would ever be one of his harem whores. Although Rebel almost would prefer it to this.

The stocky man was the button king of the land, a wealthy lord of some kind. He prattled on and on about buttons. The different textures, the unique shapes, the exciting material, "Did you the vampire master Kai prefers polished steel, my golly, who would have thunk it." The custom jobs for kings all over the lands. Rebel smiled and nodded, asking him to please go on. She wanted to hang herself. She is fine with his shape and pale, sweaty skin. He is just so boring. She reaches up and scratches her scar when he wasn't looking. He touches the raised skin and smiles. It's the souvenir she has from Shiggy.

It's in times like this, she did miss Shiggy. He could be gentle and sweet. He is cleverer than he looked and presented. If he wasn't what he is, and if she wasn't a human, she could see herself happy with him. The cat and mouse game with him were the most on edge she has ever been. When she looks back, it was thrilling. At the time, it was terrifying; those fucking hands. A moonlight walk around the reflecting lake is pretty but basic and boring; no were near as thrilling as trying to outmaneuver a Mothman.

"It's getting very late, my lord. I really should be heading back home." She will end the date with a kiss on his round cheek. Only she is shocked that the man is a pillar of blue flame. He is crumbling to ash before her eyes. She's seen blue flame before. She turns to run when she is blocked by glowing blue eyes. Dark black wings that shimmer a purple design in the blue light. "I'm not going to get away, am I?" She says with a lilt of hope. He shook his head. "Can I say bye to my family?" Rebel asks sweetly. "You had two months more than you did two months ago. You're coming home to your new family at the hive." Dabi says in his firm smoky voice. She nodded and didn't fight when he carried her to hell.

"Look what I found," Dabi said. He put her down in front of Shigaraki. Painted like a king, he loomed over his bad mate. "What should I do with you? You broke our deal. You ran away and got poor Toga in trouble. Stole from the hive. I thought we were going, to be honest with each other. On the other hand, you only took a portion of what we agreed to for your family. Brokered a good deal, and now you are carrying my brood. Still, my mate. What to do? What to do?" Dabi had snuck up behind her and is sniffing at her hair. He had been a perfect gentleman during the trip. Now he was being a handsy creep. She smacked at him, which only seemed to get him more excited. "Don't forget my reward." Dabi hisses, Shig ignores him.

"I did say bad mates get it rough. I did say you have to please only me. I did tell your father only I could touch you. I guess this will make me two-thirds a liar, turns out being honest with my little butterfly is a bad habit. I must punish you. You have opened my eyes to compromises and accommodation. With so few females, I needed to offer Dabi a decent reward for finding you. After all, I can't enter your city. Don't worry. After your punishment, we'll go back to the original deal; this is going to be the only exception, right little butterfly? No more running." She gives them both dirty looks; Shigaraki's heartstrings are plucked when she's like this. "Oh, pretty little butterfly, you are in for a treat." Dabi hisses. "I've wanted this since back at the cave. Boss, do you really think she can take two knots?" She looks at the two evil grinning monsters in shock. Never had she thought that punishment would be on the table. Shig has been so possessive.

"No!" She screams as she tries to run. Four sets of hands capture her. "Fuck no!" She screams, flailing and kicking. "Don't be like that. Makes me think you don't like me. Wasn't I nice on the way over here?" "Only because you knew this was waiting for me, you sick fuck! Shiggy, please! I'm your mate! There are other punishments!"

"Sorry little butterfly, you forced my hand. Too few females, and it keeps my right hand close." "Real close," Dabi whispers in her ear, adding a chirp at the end. They are carrying her to a giant bird's nest filled with pillows. "Remember the rules. No marking, scenting or burning. You can dust and knot the ass, not the mouth. Also, fuck that mouth at your own risk." She is trying to bite at Dabi while he says the last part.

"She's pregnant, don't see why I can't have the pussy?" "Because I killed one knotting the throat, and anal just doesn't feel as good to me," Shig says. "Yes, but if we fuck her at the same time, the ass gets real tight." "Really?" "Both of you are fucking sick. Shiggy, please! You could kill me! Could hurt the baby!"

"That's cute. She thinks our cocks could kill her or hurt the baby. I thought you were smart. Don't you know holes stretch; bones break?" Dabi says while kneading her breasts. Laughing at her panic. "She was a virgin, it's really annoying having to train them, but she will do well. After all, she wants to make me happy. She wants to be my good mate. Good mates get considerations." Rebel whimpers pitifully. Then feebly struggles.

"This is great, you know; struggling and making us chase you gets our instincts riled up." "I'm going to fucking kill you both." Rebel snarls at them. "The mouth on this one, can we fuck it, right?" Dabi asks. He's inhaling her pure scent before Shigaraki gets to her. He chuckled when she struggled to claw at his stitches.

"I like to hear her threats and pleas. They are adorable. She is a bit of a biter again at your own risk." They are talking about her as if she is some dumb plaything. She knew they were talking in the human tongue on purpose. Humiliating and frightening her.

"Shiggy, my mate, please. The threat of this is enough. I promise I'll never run again." "Where did we land on the pussy?" Dabi asks. Both are ignoring her pleas. Tomura sighs, annoyed. "Only this once, just because she's already carrying. If it were any other time, I would withdraw the reward." She goes limp. Dabi shakes her and gives Shigaraki a disheartened look.

"Don't worry, she plays possum to get close before becoming a vicious minx. I sit, and you thrust?" Shig asks. "Yeah, I want to see her face. I'll thrust." Dabi's hand is knitted in her hair, tongue licking her neck, while Shigaraki pulls off her clothes. Dabi can feel the pulse of her heartbeat under his tongue and has to control himself. No marks are a rule, so he lightly nips. He wants to do this again, so rules with someone else's mate are the only ones he bothers to follow. Shigaraki is kissing her thighs. She has slowly snaked her hand under her jerkin and pulled out a knife. She is quick, but Shigaraki is quicker; he caught the blade. He's laughing. A trickle of blood drips down his chest as he tsks her.

"Playing a little rough there, sweet mate. I would be disappointed if you hadn't tried." He wraps five fingers around the blade, and his shatters into dust. Rebel whimpers. It was her last chance. They would never let her near anything sharp again. Dabi chirps.

"She is a little minx." Sliding his hot hand up her side. To cup her breast and fingers her puckers nipple. Shigaraki growls and turns her top into dust. Rebel squeaks in fear; four dangerous hands are on her. She has seen Dabi light fires on the way here, and she was happy with not having to deal with that, at least. How stupid and wrong she was.

"I wanted to be kind and leave your clothes, but you always force my hand. I can't trust you don't have other nasty things hidden. Always the hard way with you first." Tomura says. His teeth are nipping at her hips. They are both making her shudder in fear and pleasure, and she hates herself and them for it. Her body has been betraying her since she has met the Mothmen. Shigs hand darts up into her hair, and she screams. She knows that he doesn't want to kill her but that doesn't mean he might not accidentally do it one day. He twists her face towards Dabi's. His fur feels signed and smells like caramel on the edge of burning. "Give him a kiss," Shig orders. "A kiss? "It's a human thing where mouths are pressed together. It's a new way to taste a mate. Try it."

His lips are softer than Shigs. She can still feel scar tissue and a scrap of a stitch. His long tongue violates her mouth at the same time Tomura is licking her cunt. She whines and tries to twist away from them both. Both are starting to feel good, and she's embarrassed how her body heats at their touch. Dabi is so warm. She can tell the difference between their roaming hands. Their antenna is everywhere, tickling. Rebel giggled into Dabi's mouth, encouraging him to be more aggressive with his kiss. As he pulls from the kiss, she tries to bite him, but he's too fast. Rebel is gasping; both are leaving her breathless.

"It's like bringing her to heat, but dangerous, those little flat teeth are sharper than I thought." He snickers, nuzzling her hair to watch Shigaraki lick her. Tomura's is firmly planted over her pussy, tongue deep and squirming, as he slicks his dick with his precum.

"Mmmm, he seems captivated by your taste. I guess he's that kind of guy. You are so much sweeter with a tongue in you. Are you this sweet when your knotted, I wonder?" "Why don't you two just fuck each other?" She spits a Dabi. He catches in his mouth and groans. He wets two of his hot fingers and shoves them roughly in her ass. She shouts curses at them as he fingers her. "So delicious. It's much more fun when there is a little treat between. You're so much softer and tighter than anyone of our species. Smell good, taste good, fuck good. I hope you remember I'm being nice, getting you ready, because all of Shigaraki is going in this virgin hole. Such a tight little hole, maybe you'll misbehave, and I can try it later."

"How honorable of you, you disgusting creep." Tomura pulls away, Dabi pulls his fingers out with a squelch, Tomura spitting a wad on her holes. Wiping his face, he adds her wetness to his aching cock. "She's ready," He rasps. He lays back, wings and arms spread wide. "Come here, little butterfly, and sit on your mate's lap." Dabi flips her struggling form and helps spread her as he slowly lowers her on. Tomura is spreading her cheeks and lying himself up to her dripping puckered hole. Rebel sobs miserably as Tomura's cock is firmly anchored in her. His arms wrapped around her middle, pinning her arms to her side. He is nuzzling the crook of her neck, licking at her tears, and kissing his scarred mark. He leans them both back for Dabi.

Dabi leans down and gives a lick at where they are connected. It makes her squeal, and Tomura shivers with pleasure.

Dabi's hands grip her waist as he slowly sinks into her. She whimpers, and her pained face is making this better for him. She's so tight and full; his hips slowly start to rock. He grinds his cock deep inside her, making sure to form and stretch her insides to fit him. He wants to coax at least one orgasm from this female. He wasn't lying. She is softer and tighter. He wants her to misbehave so he can do this again. Maybe if they both realize how good this is, it could be more regular. The thought is so exciting he slides out a little too fast, and it's making her cry out with each thrust. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her head thrown back into Tomura, her teeth gritted.

"No, no, no more. Please." She begs. It feels unbearably good. She hates them. She feels like a panting slutty bitch in heat. It is the most degrading thing Rebel has ever had to do. The room is filling with the sounds of their moans, groans, the wet slapping of skin, squelching, chirps, and the buzz of wings. The smells of sex mixing in the air sending the males over the edge. "Oh, little butterfly, you're getting tighter. Your pussy is drooling around me. Are you about to cum?" "I hope you both die," Rebel moans. "Feels so good," Tomura mumbles. Dabi captures a hard nipple in his mouth, wings quivering, dark dust falling on both. She shouts, arching back into Tomura, both her cunt and anus tightening. Her orgasm is encouraging them to both pump deeply. She is shouting curses that are turning incomprehensible. Her walls are sucking them both. Primal growl as both knots inflate, making Tomura and Rebel squirm under Dabi. Dabi's cum feels boiling hot as he fills her. It is so much it's leaking around the edges, sliding down Tomura's crack. She is trembling between them, gasping, and going limp.

Dabi does a tentative knot pull that has both shouting and give him a nasty look, Tomura's blazing red eyes threatening. They all roll to the side, her cursing more of how it hurts for them to move. They coo and chirp over her. It would be sweet if she didn't hate them. Shigaraki is smothering her in his scent, telling her to never run again, and what a good mate she is for taking her punishment so well. Rebel is crying, telling them, of course, she'll never run again, please no more, it's too good. She is already plotting on running. Even the Count wouldn't do this, would he?

Panting and sweating, their wings encase her, and they fall asleep entwined with each other.

Sequel coming soon! I'm super lazy and tags are annoying.

[inmyfxith]

Meet again

Pairing: Jaskier x OC!reader

OC: Celda of Ard Carraigh

Warnings: None (I think)

A/N: Sisters' thoughts // The Sisters of Ard Carraigh / The Wolf and the Griffin / Friends out of interest / The End of a Myth

Words: 1 804

Since Geralt had dismissed her and Jaskier, Celda no longer believed it possible to return to the manor. It was by chance that she had come across the witcher. While she had traveled to Novigrad with her sister Nareth, a witcher too, duty and the latter's irresistible desire to fill her purse had quickly driven the two sisters apart. Not knowing how to get home because of the increasingly dangerous roads. Of course, this did not please the other sisters, who did not hold back from saying so.

[Cedrel] - You should have thought of that earlier, Nareth, before offering to take her with you.

[Deirdre] - Can't you take her with you?

[Nareth] - It's far too dangerous, I'd probably be out for weeks just finding him. She's a big girl, she'll be fine.

[Cedrel] - If anything happens to her, you will be held responsible, Nareht. You and Seirsa are the only ones allowed to leave the manor, and you know it.

[Nareth] - If she stays in Novigrad, I'll come and get her after I've taken care of that monster.

Helpless in the face of discord, and feeling guilty for causing a fight, Celda encouraged her sister to go on an adventure, telling her that she would not try anything foolish and that they would meet at the Passiflora, one of the many brothels in town, when she returned. One night, in an inn where she had recently been staying, a man had mistaken her for something she was not, and, to escape him, Celda entered a room at the back of the inn without really knowing what she was doing. However, as her gaze swept across the room, she was horrified to find herself confronted by two men, a young man with brown hair and relatively neat clothes and an older man with white hair, presumably trying to relax in a still steaming bath. The young woman's first reaction was to cover her eyes with her hands before apologizing several times and explaining the situation she was in.

“You have disturbed our moment of relaxation !” The bard, whom she would later learn was Jaskier, remarked with an annoyed look on his face like a child about to throw a fit. With tears in her eyes, Celda apologized again before asking what she could do to make things right. Of course, financial compensation was never too much to ask, so to make amends, she bought them a few more drinks.

The next morning, Celda woke up at dawn with a very specific idea. She asked the innkeeper about the route taken by her new acquaintances and followed him to find them. After walking out of the city, dodging the various gangs, she finally spotted the witcher on his horse and the bard walking beside him.

"You're a witcher aren't you?" Blocking Roach's path, the young woman thought she had already found her way home. Geralt, frowning, answered her with a grunt as Jaskier stared her down from head to toe.

"I need someone to accompany me to Kaedwen, to the north. I can pay you... I don't have the money on me, but once I get to the manor I'm sure my sister will be able to compensate you to the extent of your mission." Folding her hands, Celda put on an innocent face, hoping with all her might that the witcher would agree.

"Kaedwen is not next door, we have things to do, fighting monsters for example."

"I have things to do... you will no doubt find another witcher to accompany you to Novigrad."

The second meeting ended at that moment, Celda had watched the two men disappear over the horizon without losing hope.

Having decided to go alone, Celda quickly took the wrong direction, heading south when she should have been heading north. She arrived in the kingdom of Temeria, more precisely in the vicinity of the town of Vizima. She found refuge in a small house where the inhabitants had agreed to put her up for the night in exchange for a few coins. However, as night fell, she was awakened by screams. Outside, attacking a man who was presumably on his way home, some Barghests were feasting on his body. As if from the underworld, these creatures were violently feasting on their victims.

Celda was pulled inside the house by her host, who was obviously used to this kind of attack and when a witcher was in the area, he was inevitably aware of the existence of these specters.

Geralt was no exception, and when he happened to be in Vizima, Celda jumped at the chance to ask him again if he could accompany him. Because of her desperation, and against Jaskier's advice, he finally agreed. The relationship between Jaskier and Celda calmed down as soon as the bard realized that she posed no threat to his friendship with the white wolf. The young woman was to be only a stopover on the witcher's journey, so she was invited to Cintra's court and to Borch Three Jackdaws' expedition.

Understanding the bard's jealousy of Yennefer's arrival, they had stayed together throughout the expedition, making more or less kind remarks about the witch here and there.

When Geralt had finally unleashed his rage on the poor bard, Celda, as a spectator, had tears in her eyes because of the harsh words used. As Jaskier had announced his departure, Celda had approached the witcher, cautiously, before placing a small purse full of coins on the rock on which Geralt had leaned.

"Thank you, witcher, I will continue on my way alone." She had then walked a short distance with Jaskier, at least as far as the nearest town before they both went their separate ways, but not without promising to meet again one day.

In reality, Celda never went home. Not by choice, but because crossing the different kingdoms and territories seemed so dangerous that even Cedrel, the eldest of the family, had advised her to stay hidden somewhere until Nareth finished her current contract and could bring her back safely to Kaedwen. She went there without really knowing what she was going to study. The faculty of contemporary history finally opened its arms to her. Cedrel was an avid reader, and with her help, Celda quickly became an excellent student.

During her months of study, the young woman met a chemistry professor, Jean La Voisier, whose interest in her grew even more when he learned of the special connection between the girls of Ard Carraigh. She often found him in his laboratory where he asked her questions about what she could and could not do. With the help of the dean of the medical department of the academy, Professor La Voisier prepared a kind of potion that he thought would allow Celda to control her gift, i.e. to be able to communicate with her sisters when she wanted or needed to. However, it was a failure. Celda lost all contact with Cedrel, Seirsa, Nareth and Deirdre. When she concentrated on hearing their thoughts or see their memories, nothing came out.

Leaving the teachers to work out a possible cure, Celda tried to continue studying but without Cedrel's help, things were more complicated. Moreover, the young woman's mental state began to be disturbed as she could not have conversations with Deirdre as she used to do every night before going to sleep. So she stayed in her room, trying to occupy her mind and not go mad from hearing only silence. Things in Oxenfurt had changed since the Battle of Sodden Hill. Soldiers were clearing the streets of what they called "non-human vermin", staging a veritable pogrom. To clear her head, Celda agreed to follow one of the girls she was studying with to one of the town's taverns. After a few drinks, a bard began to sing. Celda could have recognized the voice from a thousand. The eye contact with the bard confirmed only too well what the young woman had already guessed. Jaskier was standing there, singing one of his secret songs. But he did not see her immediately.

Once his little performance was over, the young woman stood up to greet him.

"It seems a long time ago that we were both singing “Toss a coin to your witcher”." Celda said, being positioned behind the bard at the time. Recognizing his interlocutor's voice in turn, Jaskier straightened his head, eyebrows furrowed, before assuming a bewildered look when he finally saw his old friend with his own eyes. Without asking her permission, he took her in his arms for a short while.

"Oh Lord, I love the smell of your hair... a mixture of flowers, old books and... of... of you." sitting down on a stool, the young man took his lute from his lap to try to retune it. He then asked his friend what she had come to Oxenfurt to do, and especially if she was safe.

"I arrived several years ago, you know, but I stayed at the academy most of the time. I study contemporary history, you know..."

Something was wrong with her voice, and Jaskier could hear it. He, who before seemed to be concentrating only on himself, put his lute to one side and turned to Celda.

"What are you hiding, little flower?"

"I lost my link..." Jaskier frowned, no doubt thinking this would make an excellent title for a new song "...I trusted a chemist and here I am cut off from the only beings whose flesh and blood I share."

Taking a piece of parchment and a quill, Jaskier began to write something down before looking up at the young woman.

"Tell me more, darling." Frowning, Celsa complied though.

"The pale potion was sweet, like its fruity scent, but regrettably it led to an accident. Oh Jaskier, if I had known I would never have agreed to drink this liquid which I thought was effective."

Scratching at his paper, Celda leaned over to see what he was writing, but at the last moment Jaskier pulled back enough to hide the contents. Upset, the young woman asked him what he could possibly be writing and especially why he wasn't listening to her.

"I am listening to you, my little flower, I am listening to you. But you see I can't keep my muse waiting. A new song comes to me as I speak to you, a masterpiece darling."

Astonished but knowing the bard, Celda let out a small laugh, being too happy to finally see her friend again. She let him finish writing before continuing his story. Together they talked for most of the night before Celda decided to return to the academy. Jaskier had cheered her up and, as a result, she promised to come back and listen to him sing whenever she could.

[the-wisteria-house]

Lityerses X Reader

Requested by:The lit simp

You had came to waystation as a young pre-teen.

It was your home,and it's where you got claimed by Hecate.

So when Lit came into your home after all he's done. You obviously had a problem with that.

When he admitted he put a tracker on the Griffins you exploded.

"You did what?!" Rage coursed through your veins. Objects around you started to float.

Luckily Apollo stopped you from killing Lit.

But that didn't stop everyone else from wanting his head.

You knew there was too much at stake after what Apollo has told you all.

"Guy's wait!" You yell before one of the huntresses could stab him. "I hate to say this, but he can be useful." Though you're words fell on deaf ears.

You thought the young man was done for until Josephine stepped in, and offered him a place to stay.

You saw how moved he was. You knew he was being genuine, and a part of your heart softened.

But you still had an emperor fight though.

Once dinner was ready you brought Lit a plate, and calmly spook to him.

You didn't really talk about anything too personal. You just made comfortable small talk.

You knew he'd talk to Emmie about the armies you'd be facing. So you didn't see the point at poking at him any further.

You didn't exactly trust him. But you'd have to get used to him sometime soon.So why not now?

"So, you're a child of Hecate." He didn't really stated it as a question.

"Yeah." You simply respond.

Your conversation continued. Not going in any particular direction.

Little did you both know that one conversation would lead to many others.

Fast forward a few months.

It was clear to everyone that Lit was in love with you.

Well to everyone but you.

He'd awkwardly flirt with you,but you've never seemed to notice.

One day he got fed up.

When you we're passing the storage closet someone grabbed you.

"Hey!What the Had-muph" You're yelling was cut off by someone's soft lips crashing into your own.

"Gods why can't you see how I feel about you!?" You recognize the voice immediately.

You stood there dumbfoundead. What dose he mean?

Why did he kiss you?

"You kissed me....why?" The confusion was evident in your voice.

This frustrated the young man even further. "I-did you not hear a word I said? I'm in love with you!"

You look at the Greek trying to see if he's being honest.

When you looked at him you saw love,passion and desperation in his eyes.

"I love you too."

That's how it all started.

You and Lit would stay up late, and relax by the griffins roost.

He liked watching the baby griffens play. Though he'll quickly deny it if you ask.

When you told everyone about your relationship they were all shocked.

"Well I knew he was in love with you.But he finally got the courage to say something?" Leo says humor evident in his voice.

Lit was clearly offended. "What's that suppose to mean!?"

"Congrats sis." Josephine slaps your shoulder lovingly. "If he hurts you I won't hesitate to beat his butt though. I may be old but I still have moves." The older woman grins at you. Though you can tell she's a hundred percent serious.

This terrified Lit.

You and Lit over all had a healthy relationship.

You trusted that'd he'd stay loyal which he always did.

He had some trust issues when you first met, but since you were friends before you got together those issues were already resolved.

So Joephen never had to beat his butt.

You'd both stay up late into the night talking about anything and everything.

You loved hearing about his life in ancient Greece, and he loved hearing you explain how you controlled the mist.

But no matter how much trust he had in you he still didn't trust some men.

If a guy was getting to close to you or heavily flirting. He'd glare at him,and get alittle frisky.

If someone flirted with Lit it would make you uncomfortable, and if they go to far you'd intervene immediately.

He's your man!

And you are his girl!

Was that any good? I'm sorry if it was kind of short.😬 I hope you guys enjoyed it. Feel free to leave feedback in the comment section. Stay safe everyone!!!

[audi0med1c]

Chapter 1 of my new Modern AU idea I got from making a silly tik tok....this is a very angsty exes-to-lovers Modern Clexa AU...just a couple of stubborn idiots who can't get over their pride and ego's set to a backdrop of Taylor Swift references.

2,372 words

It's on both archive and wattpad, if you prefer to read it there

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The absolute last thing Clarke wanted to see tonight on her rare chance to dine out was Lexa fucking Woods.

Lexa Woods, in her signature dark grey Armani suit.

On a date.

Before she could successfully grab her best friend's arm to duck out and choose another restaurant, those green eyes flick over and meet hers, as if she had been waiting on her to arrive.

"Shit you gotta be fucking kidding me." She hisses, earning a concerned look from the dark-haired girl just in front of her.

"What?" The girl says, looking Clarke up and down for something wrong.

"She's fucking HERE."

"Who is?" The girl says, turning to scan the dining room.

Clarke grabs her arm to stop her from turning, "No don't look don't-" but winces when it's clearly too late. Both of their eyes meet those green ones still locked onto them.

Lexa is holding a glass of red wine, and raises it slightly in their direction, shooting them her signature grin that Clarke would love to walk over and smack right off her annoyingly beautiful face.

"We can go somewhere else, Clarke, come on."

A flash goes off outside, as the first of what will eventually be many paparazzi snaps a picture through the restaurant's front window.

"No," Clarke says, "I'm not giving her that satisfaction."

They wait to be seated, and as the waitress is pouring their first glasses of wine the third member of their party arrives, fashionably late as always.

"Um since when do they seat VIPs off in the corner? Wasn't the reservation under Clarke Griffin? Your art is literally hanging in their lobby."

Clarke hates when Raven uses that term, as she never expects or cares about getting any sort of special treatment anywhere. Actually she'd prefer blending in and being invisible most of the time.  

"We aren't the only VIPs tonight." Clarke uses the term sarcastically, nodding her head in the direction over the girl's shoulder, "And I requested this table, so just sit Raven."

"Ohhhh damn what are the odds of that?" Raven chuckles, pulling out her seat and taking a long sip of wine, shooting a glance at the other girl with them.

"Octavia stop looking, Jesus." Clarke kicks the girl's shin under the table.

Clarke had asked for the table on the far side of the dining room, away from as much of the crowd as possible, and took the seat that kept Lexa mostly in her line of sight without having to turn her head and be obvious.

"She's still watching you." Octavia says, not even trying to hide looking over her shoulder at the pair behind them.

"Ugh ok maybe I can't fucking stay here." Clarke motions to their waitress.

Raven is typing on her phone under the table, which Octavia catches out of the corner of her eye.

Raven: You didn't think to tell me Lexa was coming here tonight???

The three dots hover in the bottom corner for what feels like forever.

Anya: How would I know that?!?! Wait who is she there with??

Raven: A blonde. A HOT blonde.

Anya: Oh god. Can't wait to hear about this when you get home.

Clarke catches Raven typing on her phone under the table, and then notices Lexa casually check her phone a few seconds later and shoot another grin in her direction.

"Really Rae?" Clarke says, annoyed, "Can you leave Anya out of this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl says not even trying to hide her smile. 

The waitress, a bubbly young girl with short bouncy auburn curls looks nervous when she approaches.

"Yes Ms. Griffin, are you ready to order?" Clarke is always sure to be overly nice to waitstaff, or any staff when she is out in public. She honestly hates most of the things that come with being so easily recognizable, particularly the stereotype of celebrities being entitled, petulant, or conceited. It's not something she intentionally sought, or even thought was possible when she pursued art full-time after college and found her own moderate success. Any level of celebrity status could never go to her head, as she will always be the small-town girl from the East Coast town of Polis, who grew up with next to nothing and never quite felt like she belonged in a place like L.A. to begin with.

But dating one of Hollywood's hottest A-listers will certainly put you on people's radar.

Clarke leans in towards the waitress, "Actually, we will take the check for the wine, I completely forgot about a previous commitment I need to get to, but can I order a bottle of Dom Perignon, for the table right over there before we go?" She motions with her head towards the table where Lexa is now very obviously pretending to laugh at whatever the bimbo across from her is saying.

"Of course, will that be all for you tonight?"

"Actually, if I give you an extra hundred dollars, will you relay a message when you bring over the bottle? A toast of sorts."

The two girls across from her are trying to keep a straight face, but watch wide-eyed as Clarke whispers something into the waitresses' ear, and hands over her Amex card.

The girl's face when she straightens up is a mix of nervous and giddy, understanding the context of the request.

The history of the two patrons was no secret – it had been front page of the tabloids for months after their very public, very messy breakup. Now it was just the simple annoyance of whatever bullshit spin came out of their occasional run-ins or when they attended the same events.

"I'll be right back." Clarke says, pushing back from the table to stand. 

"Wait where are you going?" Octavia calls after her.

"Bathroom." She replies over her shoulder, heading towards the hallway on the far end of the dining hall. She made sure to keep her eyes straight ahead as she walked past the brunette and her date nonchalantly, but the familiar aroma of Dior perfume crawled up her nostrils and she hated how good it smelled.

It reminded her of silk sheets and long nights, her hands sliding over hips and thighs and feeling the hot breath of whispered sighs.

Don't you dare. She thought to herself, shaking the memories from her head. 

She stared at herself a good long while in the bathroom, both expecting and dreading the door to open. When it doesn't, she touches up her red lipstick, adjusts herself in her skin-tight black cocktail dress so her already exposed cleavage is just a tad more on display, and heads back out to the dining room.

Her friends are already at the hostess stand, waiting for her before heading out past the now moderate amount of paparazzi that must have heard her and Lexa were spotted in public at the same place for the first time in months.

A small grin tugs at her lips as she passes the brunette's table, noting the new bottle of vintage champagne that sits opened with two glasses poured but not being touched, and a now slightly miffed date that shoots up an embarrassed look when she notices Clarke passing by.

Clarke bends over far more than necessary as she signs the bill left on the table, tipping an additional $50 on top of the $100 she promised because the look on the young girl's face was honestly better than she could have hoped for and collects her Amex card and heads to join her friends at the front when she hears a muffled voice from behind apologize and excuse themselves as they stand up from their table.

The warning looks on her friends' faces tell her to expect the hand that tugs her backwards as she reaches the hostess stand, pulling her to the side at the front of the restaurant.

The velvety scent of Dior wafts into her nose again, and those green eyes are much closer to her than they need to be, but she doesn't step back. At least not yet.

"Really Clarke?" Comes the expected reprimand, "Here's to the search for something greater? Classy."

"She's practically my clone." Clarke shrugs sharply.

Lexa remains unamused.

"Hardly, she's missing your signature....what is it..." Lexa dramatically gestures with her hand, searching for the right word... "Soul-sucking abrasiveness."

"Fuck off, Lexa."

"There's that mouth." Grinned the brunette.

"Bet you miss this mouth." Clarke shoots back.

Lexa's grin widens, "Actually yeah, just had a dream about it the other night."

"You dream of my mouth before or after it called you a lying traitor?"

Lexa takes a slight step closer to the blonde, ignoring the camera flashes going off outside the front window.

"You've called me worse." She utters smugly.

"I said fuck off Lex."

"Or you could fuck me yourself."

Clarke tries not to show how caught off-guard she is by the quick retort, and especially tries to hide how flustered she suddenly is. She leans into her annoyance at the brazen overconfidence.

"Pretty sure it's the only way you'd be getting fucked tonight...I know a pillow princess when I see one, and THAT," she nods her head back in the direction of Lexa's table and abandoned date, who's now anxiously sipping on her wine, trying not to be obvious at her constant glances towards the pair at the front of the restaurant, "That right there is a girl who is here for the free dinner, the free drinks, and the free orgasms after and that's it."

"Make me a better offer then." Lexa smiles as she tries to step even closer, but Clarke pushes back with a hand up at the girl's shoulder that was now inches away from her.

"There is no offer. I'm surprised you haven't run out of blonde models by now anyway, so enjoy however many you have left before you have to slum it with some brunettes."

"Heyyyyy!!" Raven and Octavia chime from the door, pretending to be offended. Both had been inching closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"You never run out of blonde models in LA." Lexa shrugs, "But I don't even know her. I'm just doing my agent a favor, and she's who suggested coming here. What was I supposed to do say 'no actually this was my ex's favorite place and she might possibly be here on this one random Wednesday night?'"

"Sure why not?"

Lexa rolls her eyes, "Are we jealous Clarkey?"

"WE...aren't anything." Clarke snaps motioning between the two of them.

"Well WE..." Lexa gestures back towards her table, "Aren't anything either...so can you drop the hostility?"

Clarke muses over the girl at the table, "Blue eyes, that's enough for at least a few dates by your standards."

"You're practically insulting yourself at this point you know..." Lexa huffs amusingly. She was having way too much fun getting a rise out of Clarke. The blonde purses her lips, her eyes dropping down to the plush lips in front of her quickly but not quick enough, because Lexa catches it and takes her bottom lip between her teeth, dropping her own eyes to Clarke's lips for a prolonged moment before bringing them back up to meet blue eyes.

"Can I go now?" Clarke says annoyed, "Your date is waiting."

"She can stay waiting." Lexa breathes as she dares reach a hand around Clarke's lower back, but the blonde is quick to swat her away and step backwards.

"This is not happening...."

"Again." Lexa adds with a smirk.

Clarke rolls her eyes.

"This is not happening again." She corrects. The last time she showed up at Lexa's penthouse she had convinced herself was only out of convenience. It had been a while since she'd gotten laid and the thought of meaningless small talk with a stranger or worse, someone she'd have to face again at work or in some overlapping social circle was too much of a headache. So when she ran into Lexa at a nightclub nearby and got a simple text at bar close saying "Damn Griffin, I know you wore that dress tonight just so I could take it off you.  Door is unlocked."  She figured it technically wasn't much different than any other one-night stand.

Right?

But in this moment she regrets having fed into the already overinflated ego that is Lexa Woods: Actress, musician, and professional flirt.

She will deal with the heat between her thighs and knot forming in her lower stomach later. If not with whatever name responds first when she leaves here, then with one of her many battery-powered friends in her nightstand.

"Whatever you say, Clarke." The brunette finally scoffs nonchalantly, and with one final lick of her lips, Lexa gives one more intentional glance down at Clarke's mouth before turning to head back into the dining hall, making a show of her return to her table by reaching for the waiting girl's hand and placing a quick kiss on the back of it before taking her seat again and lifting her champagne glass to cheers.

"Damn Clarke I'm impressed... I would have folded." Raven admits, opening the door as they rush out to a waiting town car, flashes immediately going off as soon as they are outside.

"Clarke! Clarke!" A few of the photographers try to get her attention, but she puts a hand up to try and block her face as Octavia gets the car door open.

"Clarke! How do you feel about Lexa bringing a date to your guys' spot?"

"Clarke what did Lexa say to you before you left?"

"Do you enjoy getting paid to harass people?" Raven harps at the small crowd as she follows Clarke and Octavia into the back seat.

Once the door is closed and they pull away, Clarke sighs, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

"Well if you want her, have at it." She says almost dejectedly. "I told you, it's over between us."

Raven and Octavia exchange a quick glance before Raven squeaks out a response, cocking her head inquisitively.

"I mean.... is it really over now?" 

[fanfic-wonderland]

Hi, if you’re still taking requests, I have one to send in for Harry Potter! The reader is maybe a slytherin and is friends with the trio but is the most close to Harry. One day in potions class, she could no longer keep her cool when snape picks on Harry and sticks up for by being disruptive. She quickly stands from her desk and says to Snape, “Shut the f*ck up!”’at the top of her lungs before getting sent to the headmaster with Harry. Both of them are off the hook after explaining to the headmaster what happened and why they were there. 😂 (So Snape basically loses in this one)

(A/N): Thank you for the idea! Hope you like it!

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1.5k

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"Potter," Professor Snape's voice echoes around the classroom and, naturally, everyone's attention turns to his tall figure. It's no surprise when you see that his eyes are fixed upon a certain green-eyed boy, who quickly snaps his head up at the sound of his name. "Did you happen to drink a Sleeping Draught on your way here, or is my class just that unamusing to you that you can't keep your eyes open?"

Harry looks like he wants to say something that probably would cost him an instant trip to detention but he bites the inside of his cheek, instead. "No, sir. Sorry."

Professor Snape scoffs. "Of course, and I'll have to let it slide just because the 'Chosen One' thinks that everything can be fixed by simply saying sorry. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"But-"

"Shall I make it twenty?" Snape snaps.

Harry's shoulders drop and he leans back on his chair, arms folded across his chest. On his left side, Ron looks like he wants to protest and, on his right side, Hermione is sitting up straight but avoiding eye contact with the oh-so-great Potions master. You hear Draco snickering behind you, Crabbe and Goyle automatically following his lead. You roll your eyes before turning to them. "Grow up, will you? It's really not that funny."

Draco's gaze falls on your annoyed look and he sneers. "Of course, you always have to go to his rescue, right?"

"If standing up for unfair treatment towards a student is considered 'going to their rescue', then yes, you are absolutely right."

"You better watch your tone when you talk to me, or I will tell my father that-"

"Suck my dick, Malfoy."

The class goes by and It's finally time to start making the potion, your favorite part. As you throw in some powdered Griffin claw into your cauldron, you catch a glance at how the Golden Trio is doing. Hermione, as usual, looks calm and confident while making her potion; Harry and Ron, on the other hand, are like two lost puppies that do not understand where they are, or what they are doing. You shake your head and laugh quietly. Potions class has never been their forte and, usually, you would be there to help them out with the process, especially Harry. That's also the same reason why Snape forced you to switch tables only two weeks ago ("I'm sure Potter here is capable of taking care of himself. If not, then he should seriously consider going back home and hiring a nanny."). You swear that man will do anything just to see Harry fail. It's honestly tiresome to watch at this point.

You're gently stirring the liquid when you hear the Professor's voice yet again. "Well, Potter, I must say that I am very impressed by the fact that you managed to spoil your potion in such a short amount of time. You couldn't even get the ingredients right."

The rest of the students are dead quiet by now, some watching the scene in pity, while others watch in amusement. "I did try to make it as accurately as possible," Harry tries to explain himself. "I don't know what went wrong-"

"Maybe if you read the labels right you would know that you used pomegranate juice instead of salamander blood," Professor Snape grabs the half-filled bottle and practically shoves it towards Harry's face. "But I guess that this is yet another example as to why fame isn't always everything, right? So, maybe you should stop being so delusional for once and come back to reality, Potter."

"Serves him right." You hear Draco say quietly.

This time you don't turn around, though. Your blood is boiling so much that if you look at him again you will punch him just like Hermione did back in your third year, maybe even worse. And you try to stay quiet, you really do, but once you see the way that Snape's lips turn into a smirk you feel your patience vanishing within seconds. "Hey, Snape, I have a better idea," You find yourself standing up on your desk almost effortlessly. You're not even thinking straight at this point. Everyone else suddenly looks much smaller than you, including the greasy-haired professor, who is looking like he isn't processing what is happening. "Why don't you-" you kick your cauldron and the turquoise liquid spills all over the floor. "SHUT THE FUCK UP?"

If the class was quiet before now It's like a funeral. You feel everyone's eyes on you but you're only focused on the way that Snape's face is quickly turning a crimson red. His facial expression says it all, he is beyond angry. You have never seen him like this before; of course, you've seen him let out his anger on other students, that's nothing new. However, no one had ever dared to do something so scandalous as what you just did so he is definitely taken aback and looking like he wants to kill you.

Unfortunately for him, that is illegal, so the only thing he can do is take away a shit ton of House points (you hear a few Slytherins cursing you quietly for that) and practically drag you into the Headmaster's office. For some reason, he decides to take Harry as well, although the only wrong thing he did was to mess up his potion, a common thing for a student to do in class.

Dumbledore seems to know that you would be arriving because, once the three of you enter, he is already smiling calmly at you. "Ah, Mr. Potter, Mx. (Y/N), lovely seeing you both here."

"Hey there, Dumblesir." you wave at him with a grin.

As Dumbledore chuckles, Snape opens his mouth, again. You realize how tired you are of hearing his ugly voice. "Headmaster, I must inform you that this visit is not a good thing. I bring them to you because these two students, in particular, don't seem to know how to behave like proper human beings."

You roll your eyes. Dramatic much?

"Potter here was sleeping in the middle of my class and, on top of that, he doesn't seem to be capable of getting a single potion right." His head snaps towards your direction as soon as he finishes talking and he stares at you with narrowed eyes. "And this one here shouldn't even be considered a student here anymore. They were causing mayhem in my classroom and they disrespected me in front of the entirety of my students."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore's eyes get curious as he, too, turns to you. He fixes his glasses. "Mx. (Y/N), is this true?"

"Yes, sir. I told him to shut the fuck up," you answer flatly. For a moment, Dumbledore seems to be shocked, but he manages to keep the same calm expression on his face after he processes what you tell him.

"It was brilliant," Harry mutters next to you and you look at him before laughing quietly.

Snape smacks Harry on the back of his head. "You ought to be expelled, too, Potter, if you approve of this type of behavior towards a professor."

"See?" you motion towards Snape in frustration. "This is exactly why I told him to shut the fuck up, because he keeps mistreating Harry, more than he mistreats everyone else. I get that sleeping in class is not right but Professor Snape likes to take the dumbest things and use them against him. Harry moves a freaking finger and you know that Professor Snape is going to be like 'Potter, you think that just because you're the Chosen One you can move your fingers in my class'. And, okay, I know that what I did was wrong, but I was only standing up for my friend, so I don't think that I should get expelled for this."

When you're done talking, the room stays quiet for what seems to be the longest time, and you almost start to think that everyone has forgotten how to speak. Not even Snape has something to say. Harry's just looking from one professor to another, waiting for one of them to say something. He almost looks nervous. Dumbledore is rubbing his chin, looking thoughtful. Or maybe he's in a daze, you're not completely sure. Regardless, he eventually hums before speaking up. "While it is true that what you did was not appropriate, I do understand your motive, Mx. (Y/N)," his smile is back. "You will not be expelled. However, I do feel obligated to give you a week's detention for this."

You scoff like It's nothing. "I'm cool with that."

"Headmaster, I must insist," Professor Snape takes a step forward. "I think the punishment should be much worse."

Dumbledore shakes his head. "I'm sure that's more than enough. I trust that Mx. (Y/N) will not do such a thing ever again. Right?"

"I will not." you smile confidently. Unless he asks for it...

"But-"

"I've said my final word, Snape," Dumbledore interrupted. "You may all leave now."

Professor Snape looks defeated for a moment but he quickly disguises it with his usual blank expression. He gives one last nod before turning to Harry and me. "I will see you both in class."

And with that, he leaves. The two of us follow after thanking the old man. "How in the world did you manage to get away with this?" Harry asks as soon as you're out of the office. His voice has disbelief written all over it.

You shrug with a smirk. "I guess I'm just very persuasive."

[elliestormfound]

okay, prompt, I'm happy for you to change any detail of this because it might be too complicated? lmao. So, Jaskier is rummaging about Geralt's things when he's been told not to. He 'thinks' he breaks one of Geralts weapons, and is in a total panic all day about it not wanting to mention and trying to hide it? Turns out it's just something Geralt has modified to the weapon so that when someone touches it they can't use it? like to stop people touching/stealing his things? haha.

thank you @hailhailsatan for this wonderful prompt! I had to think about it for a bit. It was fun to write! Sorry, I had to make it fluffy and it got kind of long...

read on ao3

---------

Jaskier knew he was in trouble. 

Geralt had left two hours ago to take care of a nekker nest and because the bard had seen him fight nekkers at least a dozen times by now, he had opted out to stay at their campsite. Imagining a relaxed day, lounging on his bedroll in the sun and working on a song or two. 

But he couldn’t find his quill, even after he had emptied out all of his bags on the forest floor. Maybe it had gotten into one of Geralt’s bags?

The witcher had told him numerous times not to touch his stuff. “Don’t touch Roach”, “don’t touch my swords”, “don’t touch my clothes” and “don’t touch my bags”. And Jaskier tried. But it was hard for someone who liked to share everything. Not that he just took from others, he loved to share his belongings, a warm blanket on a cold evening, the dried fruit he had bought on the last market they visited or his lavender soap.

And Jaskier knew Geralt had good reasons to tell him not to go through his belongings. A few weeks ago Jaskier had been thirsty in the night. Standing up to walk to the nearby stream had felt too much of an effort, so he had rummaged around in Geralt’s bag for his water bottle and in the second he placed it on his lips, Gerlat, who had been asleep a moment ago, had slapped it out of his hands.

“The fuck, Jaskier”, Geralt had grumbled angrily, “what do you think you are doing?”

Confused the bard had replied, “I just wanted a sip of water.”

“That’s not water, you idiot, that is griffin decoction, one sip could kill you.”

Jaskier had just stared at the witcher with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“Don’t think, ask me next time,” Geralt had growled.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Jaskier had said in a small voice. 

“You drinking poison and choking to death would definitely have bothered me more than you waking me for water. I told you not to touch my stuff,” the witcher had said, thrusting the actual water bottle in his hands.

But today Jaskier’s head was full of words and phrases and melodies he had to write down before they would escape. And for that he needed his quill. So he had very carefully opened one of Geralt’s bags, not reaching in, just looking. When he did not see a trace of a quill he moved on to the next bag. There was something silvery glittering in the morning light, just like the nib of his quill. Very carefully he reached in the bag, trying not to touch anything else. His hand closed around something he instantly knew was not his quill. But he had touched it already, so it wouldn’t hurt to have a look at it, would it now?

To his surprise Jaskier pulled a beautiful dagger out of the bag. The hilt lay comfortably in his hand as if it had been made for him, wrapped in soft leather for a better grip. The sheath was made of sturdy dark red leather with an intricate floral pattern. From farther away it would not stand out, would look nothing special, but Jaskier could see and feel that it was of high quality and only in close proximity did the floral pattern show it’s full beauty. Jaskier looked closely, carefully tracing the pattern with his finger and after a moment he was sure that it was a stylized depiction of buttercups. Very slowly he drew the dagger out, revealing a beautiful silver blade, reflecting the sun in his eyes. There were words carved into the blade. He angled the blade to have a better view and as his finger touched the gleaming silver to trace the words, the blade crumbled to dust - to his utter horror. 

He drew in a shaky breath as he watched the dust drift down and - caught by the wind - disappearing. His eyes were wide and his mouth formed a perfect o as the shock settled in. The knife looked to be expensive, probably custom made and he had just single handedly destroyed it with the touch of his finger. 

He was fucked. Jaskier knew Geralt would be furious. This was not an accident, but he had deliberately opened Geralt’s bags against his explicit command and touched one of his belongings, also against his explicit commands. 

Would this be the straw that broke the camel's back? Would Geralt now send him away for good? Cold dread creeped down his neck. Should he put the hilt and sheath back into the bag and pretend nothing had happened? Should he tell Geralt directly at his arrival? Should he wait till Geralt was in a good mood? When was Geralt ever in a good mood? Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He stood petrified for a while, like a deer caught in headlights, not able to decide what to do.

Then he heard it, footsteps. Geralt was returning. Jaskier whirled around facing the witcher, hiding his hands with the evidence behind his back. He plastered on a (hopefully) cheery smile and said louder than intended, “Geralt, you are back early!”

“There were only a few nekkers,” the witcher replied, who was cleaner than expected after a fight.

Jaskier could practically feel the suspicious gaze burning on his skin as Geralt beheld his unusual arm positioning. The witcher narrowed his eyes, “what are you holding there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Jaskier stammered, “nothing of importance. Ahm, tell me everything about the fight, how many nekker were there?”

But Geralt was not distracted and just growled, “Jaskier…”

The bard started to sweat, “you know, it was not really my fault, I just had a teeny tiny look into your saddlebags…” his voice got quieter with every word, “and I might have...ahhhm, broke something…” He looked down, cheeks red.

The bard heard the witcher approach and breath in deeply. Now would be the moment he would tell him to pack his bags and leave, to never bother the witcher again. His stomach felt like it was clenched in a cold angry fist. 

But Geralt stayed silent and after a moment the bard looked up. He did not look particularly angry...not more than usual, and he had his head tilted. 

A moment later the witcher said, “it’s the dagger, isn’t it?” and turned away as if nothing had happened. Jaskier still did not move, looking at Geralt, who just went around camp in his usual after-fight-routine. Unstrapping his swords from his back and setting them down next to his bedroll, drinking a few gulps from his water bottle, cramming some dried meat in his mouth and getting a rag to clean off the few bits of nekker guts that had landed on his armour. 

Jaskier let his arms fall to the side and said, “aren’t you going to say anything? Yell at me?”

“You want me to yell at you?” Geralt asked.

“No, I’m...ahm… quite okay with not being yelled at.”

“It’s your birthday present you managed to destroy, so you should be the one angry,” the witcher said.

“What?” the bard’s mouth hung open and when Geralt raised an eyebrow at him he continued, “birthday present? But….I thought you didn’t know when my birthday is.” Geralt just stared at him. “You told me three times in the last month,” Geralt said, “I don’t forget that easily.”

Jaskier looked from Geralt to the hilt and sheath in his hands, eyes still wide and damper than a minute ago. “And you got me a present,” his voice was barely audible, “and I just broke it…”

With a sigh the witcher walked over. Jaskier could not bear to look him in the eyes, his own glued to the broken dagger. With the next breath he could barely suppress a sob. Geralt was in front of him and then Jaskier felt Geralt’s hand on his, the one holding the hilt and slowly lifting it. “Jaskier, look at me,” the witcher said softly.

Jaskier looked up and a single tear ran down his cheek. “Just take a deep breath,” Geralt said in his deep voice, “nothing is broken.”

Jaskier did as instructed and Geralt carried on, “you did not break the dagger. You demonstrated how well it works.” 

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “what…”

“I brought this dagger and asked Yen to put a defensive charm on it,” Geralt said, “ it can only be used by the ones I imprint on it, so it cannot be used against you in a fight if someone managed to take it.” Jaskier just looked at his witcher in awe. He had not expected the witcher to even remember his birthday let alone buy him a gift, especially not such a thoughtful, beautiful and expensive one. 

“I planned to give it to you on your birthday next week and to imprint it, so you can use it.” Geralt was still holding his hand and that was somehow grounding Jaskier.

“But…” he managed to say in a small voice, “I already broke it…”

“Yen thought about that, with a simple spell it can be revived,” Geralt said, “that is also how the imprint happens. It has to be broken to be imprinted on someone new.”

Geralt took the sheath from him and said, “put both of your hands around the hilt.” As Jaskier had done this, Geralt covered the bard’s hands with his. He breathed in deep and said a few words that sounded like elder speech, but Jaskier could not quite catch them. With a strong scent of magic small whirlwind started to dance above their hands and after a moment the silver blade was back, gleaming in the sun as if nothing had happened. Jaskier’s smile stretched from ear to ear. 

“Geralt, that’s amazing, I have to thank Yen as well!”

Geralt chuckled and slowly took his hands away from Jaskier’s. Then he had to take a few steps back because Jaskier swished the blade around a bit. With a cheeky smile the bard drew his hands with the blade carefully to his chest as if to hug the degger. 

“Geralt, this is an absolutely amazing present, but wasn’t it… ahm … a bit too expensive?” He looked anxiously at the witcher.

“A cheap dagger would only cause more trouble than it would help,” Geralt grumbled, looking away from the cornflower blue eyes beaming at him. 

Jaskier took a few steps towards the witcher, took the sheath from his hands and pushed the blade safely back in. A moment later he threw his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly. After a moment Geralt sighed and also wrapped his arms around the bard and murmurd, “happy birthday, buttercup.”

[flowercrown-bard]

3. it’s a lovely day and you are a horrible adorable griffin OF COURSE!!!

Thank you ^^

"No. Stay," the colourfully dressed man said, twisting his face into a funny expression. Maybe it was supposed to look stern, like the way the white haired one sometimes looked at her, but the expression didn't really work for him. It never worked well for the white haired one either, but Daisy would never tell him. It might hurt his ego.

The music man must know that Daisy didn't take him seriously for he pointed a finger at her wagging it.

Excitedly, Daisy jumped up, snapping at it. She loved playing with her parents. Especially playfighting and sneaking. It was so easy to surprise her loud father.

"No, see that's exactly why I can't take you with me into the city."

Daisy cocked her head to the side, making a questioning sound that very much didn't sound like a whine. Daisy didn't whine. She was a big griffin, almost an adult. If anything, she was giving a mighty roar.

She took a small step forward, looking up at her father with big eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that." Her loud father put his bag on the ground again, kneeling down to scratch her head. "I'm the one who taught you that look. It doesn't work on me."

"Jaskier," the voice of Daisy's other father interrupted him, "if you keep cuddling her, you'll never get going. I already told you I'd watch her while you're in town. You don't have to act like you're sending your child off to the academy. She's a griffin, she doesn't understand you anyway. You know you can just go without saying goodbye to her."

Jaskier stood up again, putting his hands on his hips and - oh. He could look stern after all.

"Excuse me, are you trying to get rid of me?"

The white haired man huffed. "Gave that up years ago." Daisy watched as he gave the big horse a pet on the neck. "But I know you. If you don't go now, you'll be late for your performance and then I'll have to listen to you complain for the rest of the week."

"Well," Jaskier took a step closer to him, making himself big like griffins did when trying to impress their mate. "Maybe I won't tell you about the performance. I have Daisy to talk to now." He gestured vaguely to her, without looking.

Daisy stopped listening, instead inspecting the bag Jaskier had put on the ground.

1. The bag really looked like a fun hiding spot. Daisy was sure if she hid in there, while her father was distracted, she'd be able to sneak attack him perfectly. He would be so proud of her and it would be so much fun. -> hide in Jaskier's bag

2. Then again, from the gestures Jaskier had made, it looked like he didn't really want Daisy with him. Maybe she should just stick with her white haired father for a bit. -> stay behind with Geralt while Jaskier goes into town

For this ask game

[sidhelives]

I Can Only Hope You Won't Be Too Disappointed

Fluffcember 2020

Prompt: Family/Friends

First chapter under break, please use link to read full fic.

Hero ran her hands down the Warden blue silk of her gown for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time as she gazed at herself in the mirror. It felt soft and light, so different from her armor, and her bare shoulders felt cold, naked in the cool air creeping in through the window. She took a deep breath and released it slowly, willing the nerves she felt jangling the edges of her vision to still.

"Wow. You look incredible."

She started at the sudden voice, closing her eyes to regain her bearings. When she opened them again Nathaniel was beside her in the mirror, his grey eyes, two shades darker than her own, taking in her carefully upswept hair and tastefully painted features.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them softly and warming her chilled skin.

"It's alright, I'm just a ball of nerves I'm afraid." Hero smiled, covering one of his hands with her own. "Let me look at you." She turned, dress rustling as the slight train dragged across the stones. Nathaniel obligingly stepped back, put his arms out, and turned once for her, his smile equal parts proud and uncomfortable. The suit had been custom ordered from Denerim, jet black with a high sharp collar which accentuated his equally sharp jaw. The waistcoat was the same rich blue as her gown and embroidered with the silver griffins of the Wardens.

"You look impeccable, as always." She smiled, tucking a lock of dark hair behind one of his ears, her fingers brushing softly against the silver hoop set into his lobe: Anders had goaded him into the piercing months ago. He had been embarrassed by it at first but had seemingly grown fond of the feature. Hero thought it brought out his eyes, which may have had something to do with his change in attitude.

Nathaniel caught her hand and laid a kiss against her palm. "We could still cancel," he offered sincerely.

She sighed. "Everyone is already here, you can hear them milling about the great hall getting antsy."

He shrugged, a wry smile creasing his eyes. "You're the Warden-Commander. Just say that there are hyper-intelligent Darkspawn climbing the walls: that will clear them out quick."

Hero laughed, tipping her head back and pressing a hand to her chest. "If only it were that easy." She shook her head. "What have you done to your cravat?"

Nathaniel glanced down. "What's wrong with it?"

Hero rolled her eyes. "Let me see it."

Laughing, Nathaniel tipped his chin up to give her access. "What's got you so jumpy?"

She flicked her eyes up to his face then back to the cloth around his neck, straightening and tying it properly. "Just pre-party jitters, that's all," she lied. She glanced up at his face again and found him looking down at her, a single disbelieving eyebrow raised.

"But what is it really?" He asked.

She looked away, focusing on the cravat, not wanting to meet his eyes. "It's nothing."

Nathaniel's palms rubbed comfortingly up and down her bare upper arms. She finished the tie, tucking the ends into the neck of his waistcoat, and sighed heavily. She was a terrible liar. Always had been. "Fergus is here."

"Ah." Nathaniel nodded. "And I'm guessing he doesn't know about us."

She shook her head, the apples of her cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. "No. I—" she swallowed hard. "I'd been trying to think of how best to tell him…"

"It's been months, Hero."

She had expected him to be angry or at the very least frustrated with her lack of candor, but he sounded more perplexed than perturbed. She smoothed her fingers over the silk of her gown again, hands flighty and aimless without weapons to hold. "I don't know how he'll react…"

"When he finds out you're sleeping with the son of the man who murdered your parents."

" In love with ," Hero corrected, poking him firmly in the chest. "And yes, that is the worry."

"It will be fine." He smiled, using one finger to tilt her chin up. "You don't really think your brother will take a swing at me in the middle of the party, do you?"

Hero smirked. "He might. You don't know him like I do."

"I might look dashing with a black eye."

"Less so with a broken jaw," she chided.

Nathaniel frowned in a way that indicated he had not considered that possibility. "Do you… not want to tell him?"

Hero's mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. Nathaniel's eyes were sincere, the question offered as a genuine possibility rather than a rebuke, but the fine lines around his eyes belied the sting of the words. "Of course I want to tell him." Hero told him firmly. "I love you, and I don't want to hide that from him. I just... need to explain it to him in a way that doesn't end with a duel."

Nathaniel pressed his lips together, head nodding softly. "Okay." He kissed her forehead.

"Are Delilah and Albert here?" Hero asked, smoothing her hands down the front of his jacket.

"They had trouble finding someone to watch Ollie—"

"Oh no!" Hero's brow creased harshly as she frowned. "They should have brought him."

"Which is what I told Delilah." Nathaniel smiled. "They're here."

Hero's expression reversed, her smile lighting up. "It will be so nice to see them. Ollie must be so big now."

Nathaniel suddenly snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. I have something for you." He went to a bureau and began digging through a drawer. "I placed a special order with Wade. Not his usual line of work, but you know how he likes a challenge."

"A gift made by Wade? You know I can't wear a weapon with this dress." She gestured at the fine silk.

"I'm sure you could fit a dagger or two into that pillow thing on your behind," Nathaniel teased without looking up.

Hero crossed her arms petulantly. "It's a bustle . They're the height of fashion in Denerim at the moment, or so I'm told."

"Are you sure someone isn't playing an elaborate joke on you?" He looked back at her with a roguish smile. "I think your behind looks perfectly lovely without any augmentation." Nathaniel closed the drawer with a snap, a flat wooden box retrieved and tucked under his arm.

Cheeks gone pink, Hero frowned harder. "Is that what you got me then? Bustle knives?"

"That would have been an excellent idea." He returned. "I can only hope you won't be too disappointed." He tipped the front of the box towards her, releasing the catch with one finger and lifting the lid.

Hero gasped softly. "Oh, Nathaniel. They're beautiful."

Lazurite and Silverite forged in delicate swirls and curls, framing and supporting a filigree Warden's crest pendant and matching earrings sported exquisite miniature griffins in flight. The metalwork stood on its own, without gems or insets, ingots tempered to an immaculate shine, which caught and reflected light, dazzling her eyes.

" You're beautiful," Nathaniel corrected. "These are very fine things, but they can only compliment your radiance."

Color rushed to Hero's cheeks. "Thank you." She reached out a tentative hand to the jewelry. "Can I...?'

"Wear them? That was the intention, yes," he smiled glibly.

Hero wrinkled her nose at his cheeky smile and plucked the earrings from the velvet-lined box, slipping them easily into her ears. When she reached for the necklace Nathaniel pulled the box just out of her reach. "Let me."

With a sheepish smile Hero nodded and turned around. In the mirror, she watched Nathaniel carefully drape the necklace around her neck. The metal was cold against her skin, but the warm caress of his fingers as he placed and clasped the chain kept her from shivering.

"There." Nathaniel met her eyes in the reflective glass. "Perfect."

His expression was so soft, so full of awe it made Hero's chest clench. She turned and caught his face between her hands, pressing her lips to his. His arms encircled her waist holding her tight and returning her amorous embrace. Hero felt light-headed and giddy as they parted, giggling at the smear of red her lips had left on Nathaniel's mouth.

"Oh, Dear. You need a handkerchief."

Nathaniel glanced at the mirror and snorted, pulling a square of lining from his back pocket and roughly wiping his mouth with it. "And not just me."

Hero caught sight of her reflection in the glass and descended into another round of giggles at the stain around her own lips.

"We can't have the Warden-Commander turn up to her Wintersend banquet like that. What would Mistress Woolsey say?"

Hero let him lift her chin and gingerly clean her face. "I'd tell her it was your fault. It's not a lie."

Nathaniel smirked. "I'd happily take the blame for that." He placed a chaste kiss upon her cheekbone, just below her eye, then offered his arm. "Shall we descend upon the rabble, Warden-Commander?"

Hero rolled her shoulders back and took his arm. "Let's, Warden-Constable."

He walked her out of their quarters and down the hall, the sound of music and chatter growing louder with each step they took. Despite her momentary ease, Hero felt the cold breath of anxiety creeping back up her spine as they drew closer to the main hall.

She had to tell Fergus. 

It would be easy, she told herself. She was a grown woman, battle tempered and fully capable of making her own decisions; and he was her brother, he loved her unconditionally.

She needed to trust that he loved her more than he hated Howe.

Nathaniel broke from her side as they reached the door to the hall, giving her crown a final reassuring peck before he opened it for her. The sound of the hall stilled as the door opened, and Hero could hear Garevel announcing her. Her eyes lingered lovingly on Nathaniel's for a moment longer, then she took a deep breath and stepped through the door.