#for real though i will roll my eyes SO hard if getting with dorian is what spurs orym to change his mind/stop being so pragmatic

[cringefaecompilation]

this is why i can't get behind orym criticisms that say he "doesn't engage with the themes of the campaign" ever. because he does, he's emblematic of a person who thinks that it's his fault for not being devout enough. not to a god, though! just to duty.

he clearly only supports the gods because he's projecting his failure of being a good soldier by letting people he loved die under his watch and thinks if he does the same for the gods he can prove himself worthy. that's why he's so stubborn and refuses to stop bringing it up; he sees it as a massive black mark on HIM as a person and if there is no threat of divine punishment (or any punishment period) then what is the point of him?

the problem is he's working under keyleth. no fucking way in hell is the rest of the cast going to start saying keyleth sucks outside of jokes because they will never EVER throw a bone to the misogynist nutcases that hated her. and the whole god debate was never treated as something personal that reflected on the character's beliefs or view of themselves with the exception of fcg.

and i want him to get better on his own terms! and he was making progress on that before vasselheim! he can do it, but the way liam is going about it is so reminiscent of an unhealthy coping mechanism i can't even hate him for it. it just depresses me. is this stupid to think about a fictional character this way? maybe but fuck it i am.

to sum up my only negative feelings on orym: compared to the rest of them he feels super disjointed as a character because he gets amazing moments with the party when they're interacting as a whole. life-changing one-on ones! but every time he gets the idea of one thing just for him he walks away every time so nobody else will see it or only react to it after the fact. we're never gonna get a "shardgate into feywild retreat into fearne titan-ing" moment from him and i really think that sucks!

which okay, sure could be intentional since he preferred to be on the sidelines his entire life and is solidly Just There but that doesn't make it any less bizarre a character choice/bit to keep white-knuckle gripping onto over 100 episodes in. like he isn't a shitty character in the slightest nor do i think liam's roleplay is boring but COMPARATIVELY. comparatively i don't get why he's dedicating himself to being so low-key in solo moments when everyone else in the party is doing the roleplay equivalent of poppers with their characters when they get the same chance

[separatist-apologist]

Lol you did tell people not to argue so I had that coming. Also want to preface this by saying I’m not trying to fight at all, I just think it’s fun to talk about the books with other people who have strong opinions! So if it feels like a fight and not a fun discussion feel free to ignore!!

Honestly I agree with everything you said, you make some great points! And overall, I do like Chaol as a character. But my feelings for him change a lot depending on the book, so like in QoS, I’m not his biggest fan. My biggest problem is that he seems to hold it against Celaena that she left them, but like he’s the one who sent her away!

They’re definitely all flawed characters but I think it’s easier for people to dislike the patriotic boy because I think the things people don’t like about him relate more to real people we know. Like he doesn’t feel as much like a fantasy guy who’s actions we can excuse as he does just some guy from the gym, you know? But he does have one of the best character arcs and I really like the journey he goes on. Honestly one of my favorite things about sjm is her focus on mental health and really fleshing that out.

Also I second the other anon, I think you are going to LOVE his love interest. I think she has a lot of similiar traits to Elain and she is very funny.

Sorry this is so long! And I hope you don’t feel attacked or anything, I just like discussing! I am very much enjoying hearing all your thoughts as you go through the series! 💕

I think Dorian says it best when he tells Chaol that he can't pick and choose the parts of her he loves, which Chaol is definitely guilty of doing. He wants her to be someone more compatible. In CoM he has this moment that made me roll my eyes were he's imagining her as his wife and the children they'd have and I was like...CELEANA?

Chaol and Celeana deeply misunderstand the other AND idealize their good traits to a near obsessive degree. Chaol is honorable and good and Celeana is drive and compassionate and the two of them are drawn to the other for those reasons, while ignoring, in my opinion, all the many, MANY things that make them a bad match. I think I can forgive them because they're young and they're grappling still with the hurt of their first love. If they'd ever been honest with themselves, they would have known that.

I also think Chaol resents that she never told him the truth about who she was (even though I think her reasons for not telling him were valid). Once he realizes who and what she is, he knows it NEVER would have worked and sometimes when I read his thoughts I empathize with his bitterness. She kept a lot of secrets from him, and while her reasons are valid, I think his anger toward her is, too. He also fell in love with her and I think Chaol is so pragmatic that had he known who she was, he never would have let himself get that far. I do think he feels betrayed and I think his betrayal is justified. Chaol wanted to live his life in the palace, serving Dorian, and being in Rifthold and once she tells him the truth, all the hope he's clung to is finally destroyed. Like up until that moment, even knowing she was fae, I think he was holding on to the hope they'd figure it out and come back to each other.

I also understand what you mean about him being like, a regular dude- but the world is made up of regular dudes. The amount of Celeana's are few and far between- most of us are Chaol's. Ordinary people who value peace and security and want to believe the world is good and just. And I think what I like about Chaol is being able to see someone with little power rise above his helplessness and still do the right thing even when it's hard.

[malulls]

Just don't break the child

Manorian with chaorene baby

- Uncle Dorian.

- Da.

- Uncle Dorian.

- Da.

- Do-ri-an.

- Leave the child in peace! - Yrene Towers took her daughter from the hands of the king of Adarlan. - She can barely speak dad and mom. How do you expect her to say "Uncle Dorian"?

- I am the person Josie loves most, so it's only fair that she learns to speak my name first.

Chaol Westfall put his arms around his wife and kissed Josefin on her forehead.

- We should have chosen a less narcissistic godfather for you.

Dorian gave him a lazy smile.

- Considering that Aelin is her godmother, I think we can agree that I'm the least bad in this story.

Yrene rolled her eyes, though she was smiling.

- Are you sure you can take care of her? We won't be gone for long.

- You should have left minutes ago. Go ahead, we'll be fine.

- If Dorian does something wrong, I'll beat him myself.

The healer smiled at Manon as she handed her daughter back to the King.

- It comforts me to know that there is at least one responsible person in this room.

- I would tell you both to go fuck yourselves if I wasn't frightened of you.

Chaol slapped him on the head.

- Control your dirty mouth in the front of my child.

Yrene kissed Dorian on the cheek and squeezed the Witch Queen's shoulder.

- Thank you for taking care of her for us.

Then she and Chaol left the room, closing the door behind them. Dorian sat with Josie on the couch in front of the fireplace. They were in Yrene and Chaol's chambers, in an extremely comfortable room adjacent to their bedroom. The couch they sat on was in front of a large fireplace with two shelves covered with books on either side. The soft red carpet covering the room was filled with toys.

Dorian started making water animals to distract the baby on his lap. Josefin was the most adorable child the king knew. She had her mother's curly golden-brown hair and her father's chocolate-colored eyes, although she was too young for them to tell which of the two she looked like. She giggled every time she ran her little fingers over the dancing water in front of her.

The king turned to Manon and found her watching the wall with a frown.

- You are angry.

The witch looked up into his face.

- I'm not.

- Yes, you are. You're making the "Abraxos won't listen to me because he's rolling in the flowers" face.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the couch.

- I'm not mad. I just wish I was doing other things.

Ah.

- If that's the problem, witchling, there's no need to get annoyed. We'll have all night to do other things when Chaol and Yrene get back.

She gave a cruel smile as she heard the promise behind his words.

Josefin squealed and crushed a water butterfly between her soft hands, splashing a few drops on her face.

- Did you get tired of that so quickly? I think I'll read you a story.

Manon stood up in a second, placing herself between the bookshelf and Dorian.

- If you read the story of the Queen who makes ice again, I will throw you off the balcony.

- But she loves this book! Besides, the story is beautiful.

- Bullshit. You are the one who likes it and uses the child as an excuse. And this book doesn't make any sense, she has a talking snowman.

Interrupting what was to be a memorable discussion, knocks sounded on the large oak door of the room. Dorian took Josefin off his lap and settled her on the couch.

- And you have a flying reptile, why are you complaining about my snowman?

- Can you watch her while I answer the door?

Manon nodded, and he thought he saw an awkward expression in her golden eyes, but it quickly disappeared. Dorian found a nervous guard standing at the entrance to the room.

- What's the matter?

- Sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty. But the lords are requesting your presence.

He tried hard not to shout a curse. The lords of the old glass castle court, whom he unfortunately could not make disappear from Erilea's face, were a real torment. These men made a point of organizing several useless meetings at which they demanded his presence, claiming that the king was too young and inexperienced and needed their advice.

- Now?

- They said it's a matter of urgency.

- Of course, I wonder what the subject is this time. Perhaps the kind of soap I should use. - Dorian rolled his eyes.

He would order him to say that he was busy, but he knew that this would not help, and the injured in the story would be the young guard who would be bothered until he appeared with the king.

- Let them know I'll be there in a few minutes, please.

- Excuse me, Your Majesty - The guard left after a bow.

Dorian entered the room again, Josie was fiddling with her feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, babbling a series of unintelligible words. Manon was standing somewhat apart, looking at her as if she was waiting for the little girl to commit an attempt and throw herself off the couch. He hoped the queen wouldn't rip his guts out when he said he would leave them alone.

- Witchling?

Manon definitely looked relieved to see him, and it made him take a step back. Just in case.

- I need to go out.

- What?

- I won't be long, I promise. I just need a few minutes to send some lords to hell.

- And you will leave me alone with her? I will break this child.

She shifted her worried eyes to Josefin, who was still fiddling with her toes. Dorian returned to the couch.

- Would you prefer I call a maid?

The idea of requiring a human maid to look after a baby who couldn't even leave her seat by herself suddenly made any nervousness seem stupid. The witch let out a long sigh.

- No need. You may go.

The king nodded before disappearing out the door, and Josefin shifted her tiny brown eyes from her feet to the doorway.

- Da?

- He needs to leave. And you're going to be a good child and not get hurt. I don't want your mother to hate me or your father to think that I tried to turn you into dinner.

Children were fragile. Human children were even more fragile. She ran her eyes around the room. Apart from the fireplace, there was nowhere the child could hurt herself. Manon swore quietly, cursing Dorian for leaving her alone. Her nails accidentally slipped through her fingertips.

Josie laughed. She was staring at the witch's hand, and Manon quickly put away her iron nails. The little girl kept staring at her hand, as if she was waiting for something. Then Manon exposed her nails again. She laughed, and the witch assumed that if she wasn't crying, that was a good sign.

The queen stopped when her fingers became sore from flexing them, and Josefin had the audacity to tap her hand when nothing happened. Human children and their lack of sense of danger.

Abraxos let out a grunt from where he was watching the two on the balcony. She could have sworn he was laughing. Josie looked at him wide-eyed, and Manon thought that she had been frightened and would start to cry. Instead, the girl stretched out her little hands in the direction of the wyvern and began to try to get off the couch.

- You know, he could eat you in half of a bite if he wasn't so soft.

- He loves flowers. Maybe that's why he likes you so much, you always smell like those small yellow flowers your mother puts in your hair.

Abraxos growled as if the thought of eating a child terrified him. The queen sat down on the floor, near the balcony, so that Josie could see him. He lay down completely on the floor, so he was able to keep his head close to both of them. Josie began to run her tiny hands over his leather, still mumbling nonsense words. She was quite talkative for someone who couldn't talk.

Josefin continued in a long conversation, apparently with Abraxos since he was growling at her.

A wyvern talking to a baby.

By the Goddess, this was the most random and ridiculous situation Manon had ever been through.

At some point, the girl stopped talking to Abraxos and turned to the witch and started talking to her. Manon didn't know what to answer, as she couldn't understand a word.

Chaol and Yrene always spent long hours talking to their daughter, although she didn't quite understand how.

- I can't believe I've been through so much in a hundred years to not know what to do with a baby.

- Oh?

- Yes, and you can go through a lot in such a long time.

Josie let out a high-pitched scream as she held out her arms to the wyvern in front of them.

- Abraxos? I met him not long ago.

That sounded strange even to her ears. Her loyal wyvern seemed to have been with her forever. Without realizing it, Manon was telling the story of how the two had met, the things they had been through together, the first time Abraxos had flown with her. Most of them were stories that a child definitely shouldn't be hearing, but Josefin couldn't understand half of it, so the damage wasn't that bad. She lost sense of time as she talked, sitting there on the floor with a baby on her lap, until something behind her made the baby smile and wiggle her tiny arms.

- Da!

Manon turned and found Dorian leaning in the doorway with a completely stupid smile on his face.

- How long have you been there?

- You were telling an interesting story. I didn't mean to interrupt you.

He abstracted the annoyed look Manon threw in his direction and sat down next to them both to pick Josie up, but instead of jumping into his arms, she grabbed Manon's neck.

- Are you rejecting me? You're breaking my heart, Jo.

She ignored him completely, now distracted by the crown of stars shining on the Witch Queen's head.

- Won't you take this child away from me?

The witch would die before she would admit it, but she could practically feel her heart warming up.

- Why? She seems to enjoy staying with you.

Manon threw another angry look at Dorian, but he was busy looking at the child trying to take the crown off her head. She bent down so that Josie could pick it up, and when Dorian put it on her head, she squealed and clapped her hands together.

- What did the lords want?

The amused expression on Dorian's face disappeared immediately, and he hid his face in his hands.

- Can you believe they called me at this time to discuss carpets?

Manon didn't know whether to laugh or growl.

- What?

- Yes. According to them, the carpets in the salons were inappropriate and outdated. The carpets. Carpets.

She settled Josie on her lap, who looked like a little tyrant talking to herself with the crown adorning her curls.

- And you turned them to dust?

- Unfortunately, no. But perhaps, of course, their expensive shoes are accidentally frozen on the soles.

The smile on his face mirrored the witch's. Josefin laid her head on her shoulder and began to rub her face against the leather clothes.

- She is wanting to sleep.

This time she didn't protest when Dorian took her on his lap. It only took a few minutes before she was asleep in the king's arms.

- I thought children cried until their vocal cords burst when they were tired.

Dorian smiled as he placed the little girl on the bed and lay down beside her.

- A few months ago she did cry. And she could only sleep with her mother. Poor Yrene spent weeks exhausted. But now she is calmer. Come here.

Slowly, she lay down on the bed beside the baby, who was now sleeping peacefully, without any sign of the fuss of a moment ago.

- Was it hard? Staying with her?

Manon tried to ignore the sudden urge to run her hand through the short curls falling across Josefin's forehead.

- No. I thought it would be worse.

The silly smile returned to Dorian's face.

- If I could, I'd steal her for myself.

- So besides dogs, you love children?

- I love adorable things in general.

- Good for you then, since you need an heir.

The smile faded from his face.

- That's different.

She looked away from Josie to face him completely.

- Why?

- Because I have no idea how to take care of a child. It's not like I have any model. I don't think my mother ever really cared about me. And my father... - His hand instantly closed around his own neck. - I don't want to be like them. And I can't stand to hear anymore that I need an heir.

That exploded out of his mouth very suddenly. And there was something inside her that wanted to scream. Because she felt exactly the same way he did.

- I understand.

Apparently that wasn't enough, because his thoughts seemed to be far away and all Dorian did was shake his head. Then she walked around the bed and lay down beside him. This made the king look at her.

- I understand.

He put his arms around her and the witch rested her head on his shoulder.

- Do you have old, stuck-up witches who spend 24 hours a day telling you to have a child?

- They suggest it implicitly, but they're not stupid enough to say it to my face. What you said... I don't want to be like my grandmother, either.

There it was. What she was so afraid to admit.

- You know you're not like her. You never were. And you never could be.

- But I came close to being. And it took a damn war to stop it from happening. I spent years being a monster. And I was proud of it.

- You thought you were doing the right thing. That you were helping your people. I spent years not caring about what was happening to my people. People were dying, other countries were being enslaved, and I didn't see it. I didn't do anything.

- No, but you didn't help make things worse either.

Dorian was silent for so long that Manon turned her face to his. He was smiling.

- Are we going to spend the evening fighting to decide which of us is the most terrible?

- I don't think you're terrible.

- And I don't think you are.

- So yes, let's spend the evening arguing.

- Manon.

That caught her attention. He rarely called her by her name.

- You are not bad. And I don't think I'd be a bad mother.

She moved closer to him.

- I think you'd be a good father. You're good with kids.

- Maybe we can both be good parents then.

His voice had become a whisper for the last few words. As if he had made an effort to say them. A knot had formed in the witch's own throat, and it took her a while to get around to saying it.

- We?

Dorian pulled her close and lowered her mouth to his. It was a surprisingly soft kiss, with that thing between the two of them that hadn't existed at first, but was becoming stronger and stronger.

- We.

When they pulled away, Manon was smiling.

- We, princeling? Yrene hasn't even managed to marry us yet.

He laughed.

- I am sure that someday she will tie a lace around my head and give me to you as a present.

Before the two could continue their conversation, the door opened. Manon was off Dorian before Chaol could see and make a scene, and indeed, the lord made an entrance worthy of an overprotective fae.

- So, did you have fun?

Yrene scowled at Dorian before answering the question, as she took her daughter on her lap.

- Yes, but we would have had a lot more fun if your best friend hadn't been whining every five minutes about missing his daughter.

- Should we mention the scene you started when we went out without Josie for the first time, darling wife?

- I was far less dramatic than you, you idiot.

Chaol and Yrene left, smiling and saying goodnight, still teasing each other. The two had barely closed the door before Dorian pulled Manon onto his lap.

He pushed aside the locks of her silver hair to kiss the side of her neck. The witch turned on his lap.

- I think we have other things to do.

Dorian rested his forehead against hers.

- We have a conversation to finish first.

Manon pulled away to look into those sapphire blue eyes. She had barely figured out what he had admitted to in that conversation. And neither of them was ready...for that.

- Not yet.

She didn't need to say anything more for Dorian to understand. Then the king lay down on the bed and pulled Manon with him.

[merrybandofmurderers]

finally finished the book club chapter! the last time i posted a snippet from this, i didn't even have cole's dialogue finished lol

~

It was perhaps his greatest shame, but Dorian eventually surrendered to Cassandra’s literary demands. Whenever he wasn’t in the field, she subjected him to regular meetings for her beloved book series. Cole, inexplicably, joined them; apparently spirits could read, though Dorian couldn’t guess what about the story appealed to him.

Personally, Dorian was certain the books were slowly sapping away his intelligence, but they were oddly addictive. Messy in the way that was hard to look away from. In any case, it wasn’t a terrible way to spend time—though Dorian wouldn’t admit that even under pain of death.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet, Dorian,” Cassandra said.

Before Dorian could reply, Cole chimed in, “Thoughts folded over, layers and layers, a labyrinth of lips—”

“You’re holding your book upside down, Cole,” Dorian interrupted loudly.

“Oh. Thank you.”

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. As usual, the three of them had convened in Cassandra’s quarters above the armory, and as usual, Dorian wondered if this would be the time he finally snapped and murdered one of them.

Cassandra cleared her throat. “As I was saying. Dorian?”

“It’s fine, Cassandra.” He took a sip of his wine. “Now, the last chapter—”

“The thief is in love with Ser Jerren,” Cole said.

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But Varric—”

“No spoilers!” Cassandra cried, clutching the book to her chest.

“Ser Jerren doesn’t love her back.”

“Cole,” Dorian said slowly, “you remember you agreed not to read ahead through Varric’s thoughts.”

He pouted. “I want them to be happy.”

“They’re not real, Cole.”

Cole looked at him, wide-eyed and unblinking, from under the brim of his hat. “You are.”

“What?”

“The Inquisitor has been less irritable of late,” Cassandra continued, undeterred. “But you’re sullen.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes. “Why does it sound like you’re insinuating something?”

“I’m just curious if you actually made up or not.”

“Made—we weren’t fighting!”

“Well, something was making him unpleasant—”

“He’s always unpleasant to you—”

“It’s cold so close to the sky,” Cole said suddenly. “The Iron Bull is welcoming, warm, will carry them when they’ve had too much to drink. It’s a better bed than the one bequeathed with the title.”

“Cole—”

“What—” Cassandra started.

“—please.”

“Iron Bull?” Cassandra asked. “But I thought—” Her mouth snapped shut.

“Thought what?” Dorian demanded.

She squinted at him. “Then why was the Inquisitor being unpleasant?”

Cole’s mouth opened, and Dorian grabbed the hem of his ridiculous hat and pulled it down over his face. “Lavellan does not need you spreading his personal feelings around without his consent!”

“They’re deep,” Cole said, readjusting his hat. “Like roots reaching into the earth. It’s hard to hear past the mark, but they’re very loud.”

“Is that why you are being unpleasant now?” she asked.

“Excuse you, but I am always the most pleasant of company—”

“Yes,” Cole said.

“Cole! I am going to feed your hat to Leliana’s ravens if you don’t stop that.”

“Ravens don’t eat hats.” His head tilted. “Do they?”

“No,” Cassandra assured him before turning her sights back on Dorian. “He’s really with Iron Bull?”

Dorian bristled. “Don’t ask me! What they get up to is none of my business.”

Cassandra looked extremely dubious. “I just thought, well, that the two of you were… close.”

“We are close.” He sniffed. “We’re friends.”

Cassandra muttered something into her wine glass, then said, “Have you talked to the Inquisitor about it?”

“Why no, it hadn’t occurred to me—” he scoffed “—of course we’ve talked, what kind of question is that?”

“A reasonable one, I think, considering the betting pool Varric’s had going since you arrived.”

“About me and the Inquisitor?” Dorian’s gut clenched at the thought of it. “Venhedis but that man will take bets for anything.” Lavellan had brushed off the rumors before, but Dorian could not help the icy fear that came with knowing they were being talked about.

“It’s the same story,” Cole said. “The elf, honest and honor-bound—the mage, home-lost and hopeful. They dance, daring and daunted by turns, but they end the story entwined.”

Dorian stiffened. “The Champion’s relationship only seems pre-destined because Varric wrote it down after the fact. But real people aren’t characters, and relationships don’t come with a predictable ending.”

Quiet settled on them, taut and awkward. Cole stroked the edges of the pages, face shadowed by his hat. Cassandra had a complicated expression, brow wrinkled and lips pursed.

“Now,” Dorian continued determinedly, “about this last chapter—”

“Yes, the Knight-Captain misunderstood Jerren’s intentions and arrested the wrong suspect.” Her eyes bored meaningfully into Dorian’s.

Dorian sighed, long-sufferingly, and drained his glass.

“It’s like a puzzle,” Cole said. “The pieces laid with care, but you’re creating different pictures.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Thank you for the insight, Cole, but it’s hardly so poetic. People change, feelings change. The vagaries of life, et cetera.”

“Feelings,” Cassandra mused. “And you… talked about this? When?”

Dorian gestured vaguely. “Recently. I don’t know. A few days?”

“It comes to a head, his head hangs from his shoulders. It burns like bile in the throat. But you swallow it because he reaches out to you. Refusing his hand would be like slicing off your own.”

“For Andraste’s sake, Cole. It’s hardly that big of a deal—and it’s no one’s business by ours!”

“The Inquisitor certainly likes to make it everyone’s business,” Cassandra grumbled.

“It is very loud,” Cole agreed.

Dorian huffed. “Well, I can’t control what the Inquisitor does, but that doesn’t give you leave to debate or—or bet on our private affairs.”

“So there was something private going on?”

“Venhedis, you are incorrigible. Is Varric not keeping you satisfied enough with this drivel?” He waved the book in her face.

She flushed but did not back down. “If there’s one thing the Inquisitor’s not, it’s discreet—”

“Yet somehow you didn’t know he was sleeping with Bull—”

“—and I think it was clear to everyone where you two were headed.”

“Well, we didn’t end up there! And that’s quite enough, Cole,” he snapped when he saw the spirit’s mouth open. Cole ducked his head, raising the book to hide his face. Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths.

Tentatively, Cassandra said, “I don’t mean to press you” —a blatant lie, but she sounded apologetic, at least— “but it’s obvious how the Inquisitor cares for you, and you spend so much time together…”

Maker preserve me, Dorian thought. “Look, maybe it was a possibility at some point, but it’s not now. And yes, we talked about it. So it’s fine. We’re friends.”

Cassandra looked dubiously to Cole who blinked back at her.

Dorian poured himself more wine. “Now, can we get back to destroying our collective intelligence with this book?”

“The thief should tell Ser Jerren how she feels.”

“We just went over this, Cole.”

“When you say you ‘talked’,” Cassandra said, and Dorian resisted the urge to throw his book at her, “what exactly did you discuss?”

Maker strike me down. Of course, the Maker did not heed his prayer, so he had to come up with an answer. “Oh, you know, us. Our feelings. What we wanted.”

“And you both decided to be friends.”

Dorian glared at her. “Yes.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

The realization that Cassandra was persisting out of concern for him had his insides squirming, though he didn’t like knowing he had been so obvious. “Yes. I greatly value Lavellan’s friendship, and—” he took a deep breath “—it means much that he values mine.” That was the truth at the heart of it. Whatever his feelings about what they could have had, Lavellan’s friendship was the most important thing.

Cassandra still looked uncertain.

“Truly, Cassandra. I’m fine.”

She sighed. “I wish you well, then. I know I was not entirely… welcoming, but you’ve earned your place here. I wouldn’t see you unhappy.”

Dorian’s neck felt hot. “Thank you, Cassandra.” He cleared his throat. “And you, Cole.”

“Maybe Ser Jerren will love her back.”

“Oh, for—enough of that!”

“Until Varric writes it, it’s not canon,” Cassandra declared, picking up her glass. “Now, regarding the false arrest—”

Dorian took a gulp of his wine. It was an odd feeling, sitting with people who cared for him, however clumsily. To sit and discuss trashy literature and drink cheap wine and enjoy himself. Such a long way he’d come from laying in his uncomfortable cot in Haven, feeling out-of-place and unappreciated.

It wasn’t horrible.

~

@mrs-theirin, @gaysolavellan, @calicostorms, @transfenris-truther, @fade-and-loathing-in-thedas

[cadaceus]

C3E04

Farewell to old friends, but not without some shenanigans. We learned some new information this episode too that has me side-eyeing everyone and everything! I can’t wait for next week but until then, here are my liveblogs for Campaign 3, Episode 4 of Critical Role. Spoilers beware!

- Oh! Travis is there! (Also all of this merch is so cute I may need to put some items on my wishlist lol!)

- Oh, Travis is no longer there :(

- I love Imogen and Laudna’s relationship so much 

- Ooh so this is a recurring dream that Imogen has

- It was Orym who found Bertrand first... oh my goodness...

- “It’s not your fault, [Dorian]” “I know.” “Do you?” Awwwe precious loves. Fearne and Dorian is an underrated friendship

- “Bertrand can buy his own sandwich” ASHNTON NOOO LMAO

- Oh noooo, the coin was from FCG’s old friend Dancer! I can’t tell how upset they are about it being lost, I hope they aren’t too sad... poor Orym seems to feel so guilty though! It’s okay Orym! :((

- Liam rolling a 1 and then using Halfling Luck to get a 20 SDAFGHJKSL ICONS ONLY

- Dorian (accidentally?) hitting on this person in the bar and the twins waggling their eyebrows is so funny dhjkd

- “Right, we hate the rich, don’t we? Yuck!” DORIAN LMAOOOOOO

- LIAM’S FACE WHEN JENAYA SAID “fill me up” I AM CRYING

- Side note: Robbie and Ashley both look so good tonight, I keep getting distracted

- I don’t know which is the better one liner, Dorian’s “I’m still working on your song” or Ashton’s “Thanks for the job”

- I’ve seen the theory that Oshad Breshio/”The Anger”/the bodyguard that Orym is looking for will be Travis’s new character... or maybe his new character will be a member of the family that was attacked? 

- Milo is my new emotional support NPC

- “It’s alright, I deserve that” “No you don’t, I was messing with you!” God I love FCG and Orym’s relationship so much already LOL

- FIRST ESSEK MENTION OF THE CAMPAIGN YES IT WAS OOC BUT I’M COUNTING IT ESSEK MY BELOVED  😭 😭

- THE SHADOW BAKER?? I love this guy sfghjklkdk

- I made the mistake of trying to brush my teeth while listening to this exchange and the Shadow Baker going off about pies made me nearly spit out my toothpaste because I was cackling too hard sfghjksl

- It was the pies mention that made the Shadow Baker send them towards trouble, let’s be real here

- Awww, I wanna keep going! This was a fun ep and I can’t wait for next week! :)

[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

[writtenonreceipts]

I got a prompt for you ^^ if you ever wanna get into it

Person A is athlete at a press conference and Person A makes comment to his buddy about Person B and Person A forgot his mic was on

For Feysand/Rowaelin~

Love your writing 💕

I loved writing this! Thanks so much for sending it in and for reading!

...

Has potential for more parts.  Feel free to send me prompts if you wanna or if you’d just like to see more of this, let me know.

And I know more about basketball than any other sport, so for the sake of reality/my sanity basketball is the sport of choice here.

Warnings: none

...

For the Love of the Game

And the final game of the regular season comes to a close!  In a clutch shot Rowan Whitethorn hit that three-pointer and brought the score 109-107.  No overtime for the Wendlyn Wyverns.  Whitethorn has been having a hell of a season--surprising since the slump he was in last year.  But he actually managed to be listed as MVP and leading in most assists for the regular season.

Aelin listened to the announcer, Duke Perrington, as he gave the wrap up of the game.  Duke was a sleaze as his name could only attest to.  And he would be leading the press-conference tonight after the post-game wrap ups.  Hell.  She didn’t want to deal with him.

She straightened her skirt and checked, again, that there were no runs in her pantyhose.  Dorian Havilliard Sr. had made certain she knew what the dress code was.  Pants were out of the question (she was a woman after all).  Shoes with a heel less than two inches were laughable.  And she always, always, had to have her make-up done.

Aelin had no problem with dressing up.  None at all.  The more glitz and glam the better.  But doing it for Havilliard? The man, who owned the sports magazine she wrote for, hardly appreciated her.

She muttered a string of oaths under her breath.  

After the slow start of the first quarter, it was good to see the usual energy of the Wyverns come out.  And of course, getting to see Lorcan Salvaterre fouling out of the game made everyone’s night.  Who won the pool this time?

As Aelin slipped from the bathroom, she made sure her reporter’s badge was unobscured.  She couldn’t count the times security had tried to escort her away from press conferences just because they couldn't be bothered to look for it.  Maybe if she clipped it right over her breasts.

She was usually the only female reporter in the conferences.  Mostly because Cairn Valg, owner of the Wendlyn Wyverns was a misogynistic pig-headed man.  And then Havilliard never bothered to listen to Aelin when she asked that he put her name on the list of reporters.

“Aelin,” Nox Banner, one of her fellow reporters and a good friend, walked beside her down the hall of the stadium towards the conference rooms. “Havilliard actually let you cover tonight’s game?”

She punched his shoulder when he howled with laughter. “Screw you.”

“I’m just saying,” Nox said, grinning madly, but Aelin cut him off with another punch.

“I am just as qualified as you to be there,” she said.

Nox threw his hands up in defense. “I know.  You’ll cover the game better than any of us too.”

“Damn straight,” Aelin agreed.  She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Dorian helped me get on the list.”

“Of course he did,” Nox said, making sure to waggle his brows.

“He’s a friend,” Aelin said.  Nox managed to dodge the next punch. 

Nox cackled in laughter as they were led into the conference room.  Aelin rolled her eyes, grateful to have at least one person on her side.  Being a female reporter in a male dominated environment had always been hard.  But she’d grown up with the sport.  It had been her life in the foster system, through college.  Almost to the WNBA.  

The conference room was packed with reporters, cameras, and a line of the players up on an elevated stage.  Just as she always felt with conferences and interviews, Aelin felt a rush of adrenaline.  It wasn’t as intense as when she would be on the court playing--but close enough.  The closest she ever got nowadays.

Ignoring the glances from her male counterparts, Aelin pushed her way through the reporters, Nox at her side.  She wasn’t quite at the front of the crowd as she would like to be, but close enough.  

Aelin watched as two delegates from each team--the Wyverns and the Sea Dragons--came onto the stage.  Rowan Whitethorn and Lorcan Salvaterre for the former and Sartaq Khagan and Sam Cortland for the latter.  Aelin never understood how such attractive people could get drafted for both teams.

Rowan Whitethorn in particular had always caught Aelin’s attention.  He’d been signed from the European league after dominating some private university division.  The Wyverns laid their claim on him five years ago and it seemed he’d found his home in Wendlyn.  It was his story, his history as a player that had always intrigued Aelin.

His striking silver-blonde hair and piercing green eyes also helped.

“Live in five...four...three…” a technician counted down giving a signal to Duke Perrington who stood in front of the main camera.

“Here we are at the post-game break down,” Perrington said, his slicked back and signature smirk of a smile ready for viewers. “Wendlyn barely cinched this win, as has been the norm for them through the entire regular season making everyone question, how are they going to do in the finals?”

Aelin wanted to roll her eyes. Perrington had washed out as an athlete in college and barely had the credentials to be a lead reporter for a major sports station.  He only had an in with Havilliard because the two could be sleazes together.  And money.  And they had similar values.  Demoralizing and inhuman ones, but similar nonetheless.

As the questions began for each team, Aelin got more and more frustrated that she’d never been able to pose a question.  Every time she’d raised her hand to ask a question, she’d been ignored.  Every time she tried to push her way through to that front of the line of reporters someone would nudge her back.  Even with Nox at her side, Aelin was at every disadvantage.

“I think,” Rowan Whitethorn said, his accent rolling off his tongue, “it took far more teamwork than anyone really notices to get us here.”

Teamwork.  The five best players for Wendlyn hated each other.  Rowan, Lorcan, Connal, Fenrys, and Vaughan.  Gavriel had finished out his last season five years ago and was now working as assistant coach but she was sure he hated the others as much as they hated him.

It was a nice sentiment really.  And even though Whitethorn was leading in assists, it was clear there was a rift in the team.  As was made evident by the Wyverns barely scraping their way into the finals.

Perrington made the mistake of pausing too long and Aelin sent a well-aimed kick at the instep of the man in front of her.  She had seconds to push her question.  It led to a larger theme that she was interested in as a sports writer, but one no one--no man-- took seriously.

“And what would you define teamwork as, Mr. Whitethorn,” she asked loud enough that any microphone would be able to pick up.  Aelin felt eyes and cameras turn to her, giving her a thrill of excitement.  Almost as good as being out on the court. “It’s become fairly evident that there is a divide among the Wyverns and how you all play together.  It would seem that teamwork only exists on the court, not off it.”

Silence.

It seemed that everyone had forgotten a woman could be a reporter, let alone exist in general.

Rowan Whitethorn’s pine green eyes bore into her.  Even at a distance, Aelin could feel the intensity of his gaze, the scrutiny he was putting her through.  And she loved it.  Far too often men, and women, dismissed her as nothing more than a blonde bimbo.  Even though she’d risen high and mighty among the ranks in her college classes.  She’d become valedictorian even while playing basketball herself.  She’d been one of the best on and off the court.

Until Arobyn Hammel.

Now all she was known for was that she made good coffee runs in the office.

“Teamwork is trust.” Whitethorn didn’t have an opportunity to say anything else before Perrington swung the attention back around to how both teams would approach the finals and having to play each other again.

Whitethorn’s gaze continued to flick back to Aelin through the final questions.  Aelin alternated between glaring at him and Perrington.

Perhaps her question wasn’t the most interesting to them.  It was a bit more of a touchy feely sort and less about statistics and the male-esque propriety of victory.  But it was something worth considering.  Especially when the Wyverns hadn’t been playing their best in years.  Despite their successes, they were still being held back.

And Aelin wanted to know why.

She wasn’t able to sink her nails into the questions however.  Perrington called a final question and cameras flashed as the conference wound down.

Aelin seethed to herself as she faded back into nothing.  No one, not even Nox tried to say anything to her.  She knew she shouldn’t be surprised.  She shouldn’t even be as disappointed as she was.  This was everything she should have been expecting.

“Who let the skirt in?” Salvaterre muttered to Whitethorn as soon as someone called a loud “clear!” to indicate the conference was over.

Aelin was more than ready to let it go.  The microphone was muffled as the giant of a man moved, the fabric of his sweatsuit rubbing against the sensitive item.  She knew she should just forget the comment and get on with the article.  She had enough information to get something down.  Even if she did utterly fail at getting treated like a real reporter.  Again.

Until Whitethorn opened his mouth.

“At least it gave us something to look at.”

The prick hadn’t turned off his microphone, hadn’t put a hand over it, hadn’t even bothered to check if it was still on.  His words echoed over the din of voices.

Aelin didn’t think as she spun on her heel, head cocked to one side.  She could hear Nox cure under his breath as she stepped up to the stage where the players were still standing.

I was gratifying to see Cortland and Kahgan shuffle off to one side, expertly avoiding her.

“So I was right, was I?” Aelin asked before she could stop herself. “You are as big an ass off the court as on.  Is it alright if I quote you on that?”

“Aelin,” Nox hissed behind her.  Ah, so now he wanted to talk to her.  She ignored him.

Whitethorn stared down at Aelin, his ridiculously handsome face passive and unreadable.  If not for those green eyes that pinned her where she stood.

“As long as you call it a great ass, fireheart,” he said, his accent growing thick as he leaned over the press table to grin at her. “I don’t find I care.”

Aelin wondered if she would get fired for slapping a multi-million basketball player in the face.  No.  Punching. Punching would be far more satisfactory.

“Buzzard,” she hissed, instead.

“Princess,” he replied, that insufferably sexy smile never leaving his face.

A hand grabbed Aelin’s arm and she had to stop herself from swinging a right hook at Nox. 

“Havilliard is gonna kill you,” Nox said, he gestured around them and Aelin realized the scene she was making.

The cameramen had their cameras not quite in a position to start recording, but it was pretty damn close.  All the other reporters had their own recording devices not so secretly hidden in the flaps of their suit jackets or just out right ready to catch anything that might happen.

Aelin took a breath and shook Nox off.  She then put on her most charming smile--the one that had gotten Archer Flynn to give up VIP season passes to the Lakers last year.  And again this year.  The poor beautiful fool.

“Mr. Whitethorn, Mr. Salvaterre,” she purred, looking at each man in turn before leaving the conference hall with the loud, efficient snap of her heels echoing behind her.

...

thanks for reading guys!

tags:

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed, these are for TOG fics:

tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @rapunzel1523 @booksofthemoon @fangirlprincess09 @highladysith @tillyrubes10@bri-loves-sunflowers @rowaelinismyotp

[deiliamedlini]

Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

Chapter 5

I’ve Got Red In My Ledger

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

Previous/ Chapter Index/ Next

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

The Yiga complex was… well… complex.

All of the halls looked the same, and Zelda backed up against her destroyed door and tried to remember which way she’d come in days ago.

But she was drawing a blank.

“Which way did you come in?” Zelda asked.

Link shook his head and fiddled with his staff weapon, his blue eyes trained on the ground by the tip of the staff where there was a sharp point tied onto the end. It wasn’t even a staff. It was a makeshift spear.

Some rescue party he was a part of.

She stared at him for a long moment. Was he even real? He didn’t know where they were, or where to go. He had a sword on his belt, but he was favoring a giant stick.

Goddess. She was going to die on her way out of here.

“Okay,” she muttered, looking around again. She had to remember something.

The cells were in a long hall. She’d gone through several other small hallways. She’d come out into a large room. She’d been thrown in here.

“Were you in a series of hallways to come in here?” Zelda tried again.

“No. We came from a large, open room.”

Helpful. Finally.

“Okay, which direction? That way, I can rule out one of these paths.”

Link sighed and ran his hand along the wall until he reached the door, and then slid his palm around until he touched the handle. Jerking his head to the left, he turned. “We came from that way.”

Skeptically, she looked between him and the door. Did it just tell him that? He didn’t even look at the room. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay, come on. Your guy should be this way.”

Zelda took a few steps that echoed through the large room, steps that were alone, and unfollowed. She turned to see Link, unmoving.

He sighed. “Urbosa and Daruk. We need them.”

“Who?” Zelda asked.

“The woman who was with me, and a man we’re with. We can’t leave without them, because once we get Revali, we have to move quickly.”

“Are you saying we should just stand here and wait for them? We could get killed.”

“Can you fight?”

Zelda crosse her arms indignantly. “If I have to.”

Link reached for his sword and held it out by the hilt. “You’ll have to. Take it.”

Zelda made her way back towards him. “I fight with a bow, so I don’t know… besides, isn’t this yours?”

“It’s for emergencies.”

“You trust a stranger with your weapon?”

He smiled, soft and gentle before calmly shaking his head. “Not much other choice though. I’m going to have to.”

“You can keep it, you know? Just use it on me if I’m evil.”

He kept his arm out. “You’re making me trust you more and more, Zelda. Take it.”

She reached out and took it from him, the heavy metal dropping her arm quickly before she adjusted to the weight. “Do you fight with that stick or something?”

“If I have to.”

“I don’t understand. Are you a pacifist? Do you only attack doors?”

Link chuckled and spun his staff around in his hands before tapping the point on the ground, the point with the makeshift spearhead tied on. “Doors are terribly dangerous. You should always be ready to attack them.”

“Goddess, you don’t give straight answers, do you?”

Walking ahead of her, he simply grinned. “You’ll get it eventually.”

She was going to follow him before remembering that she was the one leading the way, so she hopped in front. “Get what?”

“Hey!” a new voice called. It was familiar, and Zelda turned to see the tall woman from before returning with an older man in tow. “Where are you two going?”

“Urbosa, she knows where Revali is.”

The tall woman, Urbosa, turned to Zelda. “Is this true? Where?”

“He’s this way,” she said, gesturing back to the hall.

“Nice! Let’s go get ‘em!” the older man said, a bit more excited than Zelda imagined he’d be. He had a white beard that tipped up, wrinkled brows scrunched in excitement, and a toothy grin. He halted when he saw Zelda, and pointed at her. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

Link scoffed. “This is Zelda. She’s a prisoner here, and we’re getting her out too. Zelda, this is Urbosa and Daruk.”

Urbosa gestured to the path. “Pleasantries can wait. Lead on, Little Bird. Show us the way.”

Slowly, carefully, Zelda took the lead and began traversing the winding corridors, trying to remember her last trip through with Ganondorf. The problem was that everything looked the same here! Every hall, every corridor, everything looked the same, even the people in their silly costumes and indistinguishable masks.

“Why did you give her your sword?” she could hear the man asking Link in a hushed voice meant for a private conversation. “She could be one of them.”

“My instincts are better than yours, Daruk. She’s not. Does she look like one of them?”

Daruk sighed. “No. But it doesn’t matter. Under the masks, they’re anyone.”

“So are we.”

Zelda didn’t dare turn around, lest she give herself away. They spoke soft enough that she was straining her ears, and there was an annoying, rhythmic tapping that she couldn’t figure out that kept throwing her off her eavesdropping game.

“Here,” Zelda said, pushing open a door. She peered inside, breathing a sigh of relief to see it empty, and then stood aside to let everyone else through. “Straight down. You’ll see him.”

It was the right room for sure. Even being in here gave Zelda the creeps, and her throat hurt with phantom pain from days before.

She followed the group as they glanced inside each cell before stopping.

“Well, it’s about damn time!” the man said, standing up. “I’d think you almost forgot about me but… that’s just not possible.”

“No matter how hard we try,” Link muttered.

“You brought him?”

“I can leave,” Link offered, gesturing to the door.

But in doing so, he gestured to Zelda, and the blue haired man stuck his head through the bars while Daruk worked on the lock with Urbosa over his shoulder.

“You? You didn’t die. Good for you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Zelda murmured, rolling her eyes, earning a snort from Link.

There was a loud clack, and the lock sprung open.

The man burst out and hurried down the hall past everyone. “Come on!”

“Wait, Revali!” Daruk called, struggling to catch up.

“Ass,” Link breathed, and Urbosa hummed in agreement. “He has no respect. Let’s go.” She grabbed his arm and they ran down the hall, leaving Zelda to catch up with all of them.

Revali seemed to have a better sense of the Yiga hideout than Zelda did. He brought them through a few rooms, ducked around patrols, and ended up in a room with several crates.

“I stashed it all here.”

Daruk, Urbosa, and Link all opened up backpacks that were flat against them, and pried the crates open, reveling packets of rations and emergency on-the-go medicine. They stuffed their pockets full with as much as they could carry before Revali led them back out.

Literally.

Out.

Standing in the middle of a rocky plain, Zelda breathed in the fresh air she’d so desperately been missing.

“Where did you park?” Revali asked.

“Down the road a ways. We’ll have a little hike.”

“Good. I have a little surprise for these assholes.”

Zelda watched on, curious. Revali took something out of his pocket and flashed it to the group.

“What is that?” Urbosa asked.

“A detonator. Before I got caught, I set everything up, and hid it with our things. Let’s clean this place out.”

“No!” Link called, stepping forward, his hand out. He wasn’t quite near Revali, but the man got the message regardless and stopped. “If you do that, we become targets. They know who we are. They’ll find us, and they will kill us.”

“They can’t do that if they’re dead, can they? Ganondorf is in there. Astor. Kogha. All of them. We have to take it down.”

“And what if they’re not? What if they aren’t here? Then we’re the targets. They’ll target home, Revali. Don’t. Don’t hit that button.”

“It’s a switch. And killing hundreds of Yiga in one fell swoop? That’s a win, no matter how you want to swing it.”

“No!”

But Link’s final protest went unheard, because the only sound in the entire valley was the deathly ringing of a chain of explosions, leaving smoke to rise into the air.

Zelda covered her mouth. Dorian was in there. As much as she hated him, he had been her friend for years. And years worth of respect and friendship and history didn’t disappear completely in a matter of days.

“Oh Goddess, Revali,” Urbosa whispered. “What have you done?”

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace, chapter 13

A manorian high school AU

Words: 2563

AO3 Link

Masterlist

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

Oh, the queen of peace

Always does her best to please

But is it any use?

Somebody’s gotta lose

-Florence + The Machine, Queen of Peace

The music roared out of the speakers, and Manon moved her body to the rhythm, letting herself get lost in the upbeat tones. She had done this a dozen times by now, memorized this choreography weeks ago. 

But then she turned to the right, and it wasn’t Asterin dancing beside her - as it had always been - it was Sorrel. 

It startled her enough that she halted and messed up a few steps. Manon caught up with the others, but she was unable to pour her heart into it like she usually did. Her mind was too busy thinking about Asterin, worrying whether she was okay or not after their grandmother had kicked her out.

Manon had seen her at school a few times in the following weeks, but they hadn’t talked, and she doubted they would. Asterin probably hated her now, after all the horrible things Manon had said to her. 

Getting kicked out is the least you deserve after getting yourself knocked up by a boy who will leave at the first sign of some real responsibility. Don’t come crawling to me when you find yourself homeless and heartbroken. You’re off the dance team, by the way.

Manon hadn’t meant what she said, not really, but maybe this was for the better…

Her grandmother had made it very clear that she was not to talk with Asterin anymore, and Asterin avoiding her, hating her, made everything much easier.

Yet, if it made things easier, why did it also make her so sad? The house had been awfully quiet these weeks, so quiet it was near-stifling. Manon hadn’t realized how different, how empty, home would be without Asterin there.

Stop moping around you sad, pathetic fool!

Manon mentally scolded herself, forcing her attention back to the dancing. She couldn’t keep letting this distract her. Asterin was simply an obstacle who no longer stood in the way of her future.

Finishing the rest of the choreography, she ignored the desperate, disappointed voice inside her head that whispered; you’re beginning to sound like her.

When the music faded into nothing and her body stopped moving, Manon put on her usual mask of cold, calculating boredom and turned towards her team. She immediately knew something was up, as they were all looking at her as if they had something to say, but didn’t dare say it.

«What,» Manon said, more an order than a question. If they had all decided to gang up against her, she only wanted to get it over with. 

The girls exchanged wary glances, before Sorrel took a step forward and said, «We need Asterin on this choreo.» Manon was surprised when Vesta, who leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, stayed silent for once.

With a sigh, Manon answered Sorrel, «And why the hell do we need Asterin?» 

Yet again did they all look at each other, as if this was something they’d discussed behind her back. The icy feeling of betrayal snaked its way up Manon’s spine.

«Because it’s always been the thirteen of us. We’re off-balance without Asterin.» It was Ghislaine who spoke this time.

«You’ve said it yourself,» Briar shot in from the back of the room. «If just one of us is missing, the entire team falls apart!»

It was when Vesta finally opened her mouth that she snapped. «And you slipped up today, Manon. Several times!» 

«I have no idea what you’re talking about,» Manon hissed, clenching her fists so hard it hurt. «You have been distracted today, hell, you’ve been distracted, lazy and off-beat all week!»

«Because Asterin-» Vesta begun, but Manon didn’t let her finish.

«I don’t wanna hear another word about Asterin! It was her own stupidity that got her kicked off the team, and if you, all of you, don’t start working a bit harder, I won’t hesitate to replace you with someone else!»

The room was unbearably quiet when she was done talking, and Manon could hear her own heart thundering inside her chest. She had to stay calm, couldn’t let them see her fall apart, even if that was what she felt like doing right now. She was losing control, she was-

«I can talk to Asterin today if-»

«GET OUT!» 

Manon’s blood was boiling at the audacity of Vesta. Why couldn’t they understand that Asterin, with her carelessness, was jeopardizing everything they had worked towards? 

Her grandmother had been clear in her orders: everything had to be perfect, so they had to win nationals, which they couldn’t do when one of the teammates first of all didn’t bother showing up to half of the rehearsals, and second of all, would be heavily pregnant come spring.

When everyone had left, and Manon was alone once more, she didn’t let herself brood over the fight they’d just had, didn’t let herself recognize how awful this made her feel. She simply turned the music back on, and forgot.

She forgot everything she’d promised her grandmother, forgot the math test she’d butchered earlier today, forgot the fact that her whole dance team had probably just quit, forgot that she had no control over anything in her life anymore.

Yet as she kept moving her exhausted body, one thought remained. One of piercing blue eyes and soft lips.

And when she remembered that she had an actual date with him the next day, Manon smiled, despite everything.

-

«Why are you looking at me like that?»

How am I supposed to not look at you? Dorian wondered. Manon was radiant where she sat with her body leaned back, eyes closed, face tipped towards the sky. She was smiling softly, the autumn sun making her white-blonde hair glow.

Instead of telling her that, Dorian went with: «I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. You went quiet all of a sudden.»

She had. They’d been sitting here for hours now, under the huge oak tree in the park, eating and laughing and talking, but now she was silent, a calm, contemplating aura around her. 

Manon hummed in answer, before opening her eyes and twisting towards him. «I’m just…savoring the moment, I guess.» Her mouth quirked to the side, the movement making her nose scrunch, and Dorian had to let out a chuckle.

«Now who’s the cliché?» 

She’d been playfully mocking him for his picnic this whole time, even asking him if he was aware that they weren’t in every high school movie ever made. Dorian had begged to differ, telling her that the only reason it was a cliché, was because it worked.

And it did. After a while, Manon had reluctantly agreed that yes, maybe it was a little romantic. The admission had been accompanied by an eye-roll, of course, but what else could you expect?

«What time is it?» Manon asked after a moment. 

Dorian scrambled for his phone, finding it half-lodged under the picnic basket. «It’s almost 3pm,» he said, marveling over how much time had passed. He could spend all day like this, just talking about all and nothing with Manon. No matter what they discussed, she surprised him with her answers, whether it be a funny joke or an unusually deep thought, offering a new perspective on things. 

«I should head home soon,» she sighed, but Manon made no sign of getting up. Instead she laid down, Dorian joining her. «My grandmother will start to ask questions if I’m late.»

From what he’d gathered, Manon’s grandmother was very strict, especially when it came to boys, and Manon had told her she was studying at the library today. She rarely talked about her family, and whenever they touched on the subject, she quickly started talking about something else. Dorian knew not to ask questions, though. She would open up when and if she was ready, and those moments often came at the most unexpected times. 

«I had a lot of fun today, you know. Even if I still think you just googled date ideas and went with the first hit.» Dorian laughed at that, his stomach filling with what could only be described as butterflies. 

«Does that mean you would want to do it again?» They were lying on their backs, face to face, and all Dorian could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her.

It had been weeks since their kiss in the library, but they hadn’t been able to do it again. All they’d gotten was stolen moments in between classes and late-night texts, their busy schedules making sure of that. Until now, that was.

«I would love to,» Manon offered, answering his question. «But next time I decide what we’re doing.»

«Deal,» Dorian grinned, his eyes staying fixed on her lips as she spoke.

Moments passed, the tension between them tangible, and then Manon whispered, «Is it weird that I really wanna kiss you right now?»

That was all it took for Dorian to crash his lips into hers. 

The kiss was exploring at first, her lips so soft and so perfect. He’d thought about their moment in the library constantly in the past weeks, but his memory could never do it justice, he knew now. This was the real thing, the real Manon, and she was bewitching. No other word could describe the experience that was kissing her.

Dorian pulled her closer, and Manon placed her hands in his hair. He had to continuously remind himself that they were outside, in the middle of a park, and anyone could walk by at any moment.

Yet he couldn’t stop either. Their mouths had gone from searching to ravenous, both of them trying to get closer to the other. Manon nudged him with her tongue, and he opened up for her, the taste of her exquisite.

His blood heated, skin becoming incredibly tight all of a sudden. He could keep doing this forever.

But they had to pull apart at some point to simply just breathe. And they did.

Manon let her forehead rest against his as they both panted slightly, Dorian reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of her face. «I really should go now,» she murmured against his lips, leaning in to kiss him once more. 

It was Dorian who pulled away this time, stroking her cheek. «I’ll see you later then.»

«Yeah,» she sighed, standing up in one smooth movement. The air around Dorian suddenly became unbearably cold. 

After Manon had picked up her jacket, ready to leave, she halted for a moment, and said, «I meant it when I said today was fun.» 

Then she leaned down to place a swift kiss on his cheek, stood back up and walked away, leaving him alone, all flustered. 

Dorian had to wait a moment before he could get up himself, because his pants had just become very tight. His face was burning at the fact, but he forced himself to think of dead puppies and his parents fighting and his gym teacher in those tiny shorts he insisted on wearing.

That last image was particularly horrifying, but it seemed to do the trick. Then, Dorian picked up his phone, only to find fifty new messages from Aelin in their group chat.

Sighing, he began to skim through the thread.

Aelin: Do you guys have plans for today?

Aelin: Rowan is busy

Aelin: And I’m bored

Aelin: Hellooooo

Chaol: I’m guessing I have plans now…

Aelin: I can actually hear how hard you’re sighing right now Chaol

Aelin: We’re seeing a movie today

Chaol: When?

Then there was a lot of planning back and forth, and both Chaol and Aelin trying to reach Dorian. The last message he got was a selfie of his best friends glaring at him, the text reading: Come hang out with us loser.

So Dorian stood, feeling lighter than ever, and began calling Aelin to hear where they were.

-

Stepping into the narrow hallway of her home, Manon carefully closed the door behind her, trying to stay as quiet as possible in case her grandmother was working. 

She hung her coat on the rack and turned her phone on silent. She rarely got any notifications, but that was before Dorian. Now they sent messages back and forth at all hours, most of it silly nonsense.

«Manon, is that you?» her grandmother called from the kitchen. Letting out a shaky breath, Manon made her facial expression that of someone who had studied in a library for hours and definitely hadn’t just made out with a hot boy.

Listen to yourself, you sound like some lovesick girl from those movies you hate so much, Manon mentally yelled, rolling her eyes at how annoying her internal monologue was becoming.

«Yeah, I’m back.» She stopped by the doorway to the kitchen on the way to her room, where her grandmother was sitting by the table, laptop open in front of her.

The woman glanced up at the clock on the wall, before looking back at Manon, her eyes searching. «You stayed at the library for a long time.»

Manon had to fight to stay fully still, to not flinch at her grandmothers words. She couldn’t know, could she? Putting on a fake smile, Manon said, «I just got into a really good workflow, didn’t wanna quit.»

Her breaths were getting faster, and she could feel the panic sneaking up on her.

Just keep it together until you’re alone! She always asks questions like these.

«I’m almost done with the history assignment,» she added to make sure her grandmother bought it. Even if it was all a lie. She hadn’t even started on the history paper.

«Good. I already made dinner, but there are some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.» Her grandmother’s tone was pleasant, almost happy. She had to be in a good mood today, then. The whole thing felt deeply unsettling.

At least she was safe, for now.

«Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’ll be in my room,» Manon said before turning and hurrying down the hall. Once she’d closed the door, she finally let out the breath of relief she’d benne holding, throwing away all pretense.

She couldn’t keep lying to her grandmother like this…

Not only did it make her feel awful, but the consequences would also be too great. She was putting her whole future at risk when she was acting like this, sneaking around and prioritizing boys over her schoolwork. 

Frustrated, she threw herself down on her bed, startling Abraxos who was sleeping on her pillow. Dorian made everything so much more complicated. Agreeing to go out with him had been a mistake. A huge, huge mistake.

Yet she’d felt better today, happier, than she’d had in a long time. She’d even managed to forget the catastrophe that was her dance team, if only for a few hours. And with this light, fluttery feeling, everything seemed more manageable. 

For now, she could do this, wanted to do this. The thought of not being with Dorian anymore… It didn’t feel right, and she was actually looking forward to Monday, when she would see him again.

She knew this, they, would have to end one way or another, but she couldn’t let go just yet.

A/N: That break really got longer than I anticipated...

It's been nearly a year now, since I first got the idea for this fic and started writing it, and here I was, believing I could be done with it by summer 2020. In all honesty, it feels like I posted chapter 12, blinked, and then 4 months had passed. But here it is, at least:) We have reached the halfway point, and a little progress is better than none. I'm still not making any promises regarding this fic, other than I will finish it, someday, whether that be in 2 months or 2 years. And to all of you who still read, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU SO MUCH<3<3 I could not have done it without you!

All the love, Aurora<3

Taglist: @fireheartdreamerstarborn @bookishwitchling @hellasblessed @kit-12 @onfma @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be on any of them!

[whereisten]

Perfect.

A Winwin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: things get busy for one of the world’s leading scientist’s, Yuta, so he creates his own efficient and trustworthy personal assistant robot a.k.a Sicheng. But what happens when his perfect creation develops a flaw or two?

Pairing: Scientist!Yuta x Robot!Winwin

Genre: horror, smut, angst, a tinyyy little bit of fluff

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: dark themes, side piece Doyoung, Yuta has major God-complex syndrome, cursing, weapon usage, blood mention, smut: mlm (top!Yuta, bottom!doyoung, bottom!winwin, anal penetration, masturbation, oral sex, c*eampie.

(A/N): hey guys!! This is the first fic we are posting for our Halloween Series! Every day we will post a new fic for each member of NCT 2020 so be sure to stop by to see what dark and spookyyyyy stories we create. This is also my first time writing BL so I hope it’s good enough for a first try😂 I will do better next time. Thank you❤️🥺.

—————

“He’s perfect” Yuta looks upon his creation in the open glass box.

“Height. 5’11. Date of Birth. October 28th, 1997. Eye color. Dark Brown. Hair color. Dark Brown. Origin of parts. Wenzhou, China.”

“It looks so...real. It’s kinda creepy..” Doyoung, Yuta’s coworker, analyzed the texture of the robot’s face.

“Well, he wasn’t made to be pleasant, only efficient.”

“Yes, but Yuta..don’t you think this is a bit much? Mimicking the face of an actual person..someone that died over 100 years ago? Will you name it Dorian too?”

Yuta created his robot as a personal assistant to him. He found that humans were full of error and it made them incompetent and negligent beings. And Yuta, being the best scientist in Japan, just couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. So he created him. The perfect robot, a “copy machine” that could keep up with him and do the work he does just as efficiently. He would be just as smart as him.

Yuta steps closer and runs a finger down the robots face, causing a neon green honeycomb pattern to decorate its skin. It wasn’t on, but it was still reacting to the touch against its surface. Yuta watches the green fade from its perfect cheekbones.

He made him to look like the famous Dorian Gray because he wanted him to be just as beautiful as he was smart. But if he is just a machine made to perform tasks with 100% accuracy, why would looks matter?

This is what Doyoung thought as he observed it.

“There is a word that means talented, beautiful, master piece and a gift from God..Sicheng, that will be his name.”

Doyoung scoffs. “It’s a man? With...male reproductive organs?”

“Yes..” Yuta writes something down on his clipboard.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “You’ve really lost it, haven’t you?”

“I want him to look as real as possible for when we present our findings and such. Do you think anyone will listen to a robot that looks like those beastly things from the Terminator movies? What’s the issue?” Yuta brushes past Doyoung, walking around a table in the lab and placing his clipboard onto it.

“You of all people know the issue..you’ve made him into a beautiful person and for what? Just so you can have something nice to look at while you avoid actual human company? Is it merely a solution to your loneliness, Yuta?”

Yuta smirks. “Sounds like you’re a bit jealous, Doyoung..don’t worry, I don’t plan on engaging in any activities with him. I’m not that barbaric. But even if I did, that would have nothing to do with you. Don’t forget your place in my life, you’re disposable...he isn’t.”

Doyoung’s jaw drops. “I pray this..thing..will tolerate your ungrateful and arrogant ass. For it shall be the only thing to spend time with you, you unsociable maniac.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta turns Sicheng on for the first time.

His eyes illuminate as he takes his first breath. He blinks but offers Yuta nothing but a blank stare. 

Yuta sits him down on the couch and turns the TV on before turning on an instructional video on human interaction. 

“Hello. Your name is Sicheng. My name is Yuta, I am your creator and master. For today’s first lesson, you will learn how to speak and express emotions. I’ve uploaded information from my own limbic system into your hard drive so you can access and apply these feelings when necessary. Do not do so without my permission. Repeat after me “yes, master.”

“Yes, master.” Sicheng responds.

“Good, I will be the only one to make demands of you, you will only respond to me and grant my wishes without fail. Alright, I see that you are blinking and breathing..” he writes a checkmark on the word document on his iPad. “Involuntary actions are operating correctly.”

He steps back. “Now, you may watch the video, I will come back when it has finished and test you.”

“Yes, master.”

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng has watched several videos every day for the past week. He starts to act more and more—humanlike, and to Yuta’s satisfaction, has performed his duties with 100% accuracy. In addition to performing basic tasks in the lab, like picking up test tubes or writing down Yuta’s notes and storing them into his hard drive, Sicheng has learned how to bathe, drive, cook, clean, and speak 30 languages. 

He continues to learn every day, new formulaic equations as well as feelings and ways to think on his own. He remembers everything, as he was designed to.

One day when Yuta was typing new findings on his computer in the office section of his house, Sicheng sat on the lounge chair and listened to music as Yuta had directed him to.

He was learning about all genres of music and even learned how to play the guitar in less than 45 minutes.

Today, Yuta had him listen to Hopsin, an American rapper that he liked.

When the song “What’s My Purpose?” came on shuffle, Sicheng took his head phones off.

“Excuse me, master. May I ask a question?”

He says softly.

Yuta, still typing. “Yes.”

“What is my purpose? Why did you create me, master?”

Yuta sighs. “You don’t have to verbally refer to me as master. And your purpose is to serve me, do as I ask with 100% accuracy so that you may please me and make me...happy.” 

He turns to him and gives him a cheesy smile.

Sicheng nods. “I understand, m-“ he blinks rapidly as his system reconfigures itself to change previously saved information.

Yuta smiles widely as he sees Sicheng display a smidge of confusion for a moment. He looks adorable, he thinks to himself. He’s beautiful, his lips perfectly round and puckered with a light cherry shade to them always, his eyes are a beautiful, exotic shape unlike any eyes he’s seen before. He could get lost in them if he stares for too long. So he looks away, and frowns.

“What is wrong? It seems you are unhappy?”

Sicheng’s brows furrows, his eyes stare intently as they analyze the motion of Yuta’s facial muscles.

“It’s nothing, I am going to sleep, please turn yourself off.” Yuta looks away as he rises from his desk chair and heads to his bedroom.

“Yes.” Sicheng closes his eyes and shuts down.

———

[The Next Day]

Sicheng and Yuta spend the day inside, a storm has prevented them from leaving the house and heading to the lab for work. Yuta, being the workaholic he is, is dissatisfied with the weather and hates being away from the lab. He checks the weather app through Sicheng every two minutes even though the storm rolls through loudly, violently, thunder shaking the walls.

“The thunderstorm will continue into the evening.”

“This is unacceptable!” Yuta plops down onto the couch in the entertainment room. “Sicheng! Sit with me before I lose my mind.”

Sicheng walks over and sits beside him.

Together they watch movies and laugh. Sicheng observes how happy his master is and finds himself smiling as well, a new feeling is absorbed and saved.

Yuta turns to him and sees his bright smile, his dimples coming out and his eyes closing tightly as he chuckles.

“Are you happy, Sicheng?” 

“Yes, I am happy as long as you are happy.”

Yuta rubs the top of Sicheng’s hand to watch the illuminated reaction of his fascinating skin.

Sicheng has a strange, new feeling from the touch, but doesn’t know what to categorize it as.

“Good.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta and Sicheng return to the lab. 

“We have so much work to do.” Yuta hurriedly places his bag down and they set to work. Things seem to be going fine, Sicheng does his best to input brand new information as Yuta works on a new formula. However, Yuta seems to be moving too fast as he is worried about how much he has fallen behind from his day at home.

“Combine elements 65 and 81, place 10 milliliters of each into the cylinder,  measure the solubility and proliferate it by 0.448, then divide the finding by 6 before combining it with element 55, this must be done quickly or we will lose all work we’ve done thus far.”

Yuta grabs the cylinder and places it down before doing his half of the work.

Sicheng, on the other hand, cannot seem to process the demand, his drive releases an error message that he can’t seem to overcome.

But he wants to please master, he must please master.

Sicheng combines elements 64 and 81 and continues on with fulfilling Yuta’s demand, but the result is not what Yuta expects.

“No..no this isn’t right, why is it reacting this way?” Yuta starts to panic as he watches the solution display a completely different state of matter under his microscope.

“Sicheng, verbally explain what you have just done.”

“I combined elements 64 and 81 in-“

“No!! It’s not 64, it’s 65, you fool! How could you make such a mistake?!” Yuta empties the cylinder quickly. “I thought you were perfect, it seems I was wrong.”

Sicheng starts to feel a new emotion.

It’s a terrible feeling, he feels unsteady, confused, for once the answer is not clear. What was this? Why did he feel dread, despair, failure?

Yuta rushes around the room as Sicheng stands in the center, dumbfounded.

When Yuta finally looks up at Sicheng, he sees the his eyes are red, tears run down his cheeks, causing them to illuminate green.

“Sicheng...no. D-don’t cry.”

“Is that what this is, master? Am I crying?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to stop. I need you to be brave enough to handle these tasks.”

He stops and wipes away his tears. 

Yuta sighs. “It’s clear I’ve made a mistake in your configuration, I will fix it when we get home later.”

The rest of the day goes by in silence. Yuta sees Sicheng as no use to him so he doesn’t instruct him to do anything. Sicheng watches Yuta eat and sits at the dinner table with him.

He knows he has done something wrong, something that displeased his master.

Is he of worth if he can’t please him? Does he have a purpose anymore?

Yuta chews heavily and tries to think of where he went wrong with his creation, but he can’t be bothered with fixing him for tonight. “Sicheng, shut down.”

He swallows hard then gets up from the table.

“Yes.” Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey, but he disobeys his master secretly, he doesn’t shut down, he stays awake  to attempt to fix himself so he can make him happy tomorrow.

Yuta then takes his phone out and calls Doyoung.

Doyoung answers reluctantly after not seeing Yuta for days since he got his new “toy.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Doyoung exhales loudly.

“Come over.” Yuta demands.

“And why would I do that?” Doyoung teases, but he’s already grabbed his car keys.

“I’m not asking, I want you here in 15 minutes.” Yuta hangs up.

He picks his dishes up from the table and drops them into the sink.

He takes his tie off and unbuttons his white dress shirt by three buttons. He then takes his hair tie off and places it onto the dresser. Sicheng watches as Yuta becomes more relaxed. He feels a certain ache in his system, a desire to make him smile again. A desire to please.

A few minutes later, Doyoung knocks at the door. Yuta grabs him inside by the collar and presses him into the back of the door. He slams his lips onto his and kisses him fervently, not a moment lost between them as they drown in each other’s lust. 

“Are you done with your toy?” Doyoung says breathily between kisses.

Yuta kisses him sloppily, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip then his chin and neck.

He grabs Doyoung’s waistband, pulling him closer to his pelvis so he can feel his clothed erection.

“Do you need me to please you now?” Doyoung smirks as Yuta bites his neck to leave a mark.

Doyoung grunts as Yuta pulls his shirt over his head, licking his hard nipples soon after. He darts his tongue out and licks around the nub, then places his lips around it before sucking hard.

“God, I love when you get like this.” Doyoung rubs his hand through Yuta’s hair as he continues to suck.

Yuta is too busy to see Sicheng watching them quietly. 

Please. That is the key word. Doyoung is pleasing his master so he must watch and copy Doyoung’s action so he may do the same. For what will happen if he no longer pleases him? Will Yuta replace him with Doyoung?

Sicheng listens to Yuta’s groans as Doyoung traces his hand over his crotch, smoothly touching his member through his pants.

“On your knees..you talk too much.” Yuta demands.

Doyoung smirks and licks his lips. He drops to his knees and looks up at Yuta through his lashes. He takes his zipper in between his teeth and drags it down.

Yuta pushes his brief down to let his painful erection free. “We’re wasting time.” 

“Tsk tsk, impatient as usual.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Doyoung.”

Doyoung feels himself leak as Yuta growls at him. Nothing satisfies him more than seeing Yuta beg for him, so yes, Sicheng’s creation was somewhat of a disappointment for him. He thought he would replace him, but now he is happy to see that he can’t.

Yuta exhales and throws his head back as Doyoung takes him into his mouth. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. “God, yes.”

Doyoung runs the tip against the inside of his cheek and hums to send vibrations through him.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the underside of it, tracing over every bulging vein.

He thrusts his hips forward into Doyoung and listens to him choke, he watches his cheeks become round and red.

Yuta is already close, but he wants more.

He helps Doyoung up and kisses his lips again. He takes him to the dining table and bends him over it. Yuta then drags Doyoung’s sweatpants down before cupping his hand around his cock. He aligns his own cock with Doyoung’s ass and pushes into him quickly, he buries himself into him while grabbing a fistful of his hair and bending his neck back. 

“Fuck!” Doyoung groans and holds himself up as Yuta pushes into him hard.

They both ignore Sicheng sitting at the other end of the table. Sicheng watches and absorbs the images of their bodies engaging in this new act.

Yuta pumps Doyoung’s cock with his other hand, liquid leaks out of the tip. Sicheng notes how he also has a penis and wonders if he has the same capability.

Yuta grunts as he pushes into Doyoung a few more times. Doyoung whimpers as he is stretched out over and over while bent over the table, sweat coming across his forehead as a bundle of nerves is on the brink of being released.

Yuta looks up at Sicheng’s still face, he curses and goes harder on Doyoung. And for a moment, he let his mind wander, he let himself think of..Sicheng. Touching his soft, illuminated skin as he makes love to him, or feeling his round lips on his collarbone and his chest,  how magical it would be.

“Fuck.” Yuta releases into Doyoung as Doyoung cries out while climaxing. 

Yuta sits into the chair and breathes heavily. He smooths his hair back and watches as Doyoung pulls his sweatpants back up.

“Want me to stay around for-“ Doyoung starts but Yuta interrupts him with an abrupt-

“No.”

Doyoung scoffs and leaves. Yuta cleans the table soon after and goes to bed. As he lays in bed, he sees Sicheng’s beautiful face. He dreams of laying with him, touching him. He knows he shouldn’t think of these things, but he can’t seem to stop.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Sicheng starts to read novels and books about the concept of forgiveness while he is home and away from the lab. Yuta has been quiet and doesn’t look at him much, he doesn’t even take him to the lab on most days anymore. 

“I have to fix you before you can come back to the lab, we cannot afford any more mistakes.” Yuta says sternly when Sicheng asks if he is to join him one day. He shuts the door and looks down as he leaves.

Sicheng starts to overthink, or overanalyze rather. He wants Yuta to forgive him and be happy again. What good is he if he only disappoints his creator?

He watches movies as well, movies that discuss love and heartbreak. Love is a feeling of admiration towards someone, based on Sicheng’s findings and research. He admires Yuta so he loves him. He wants Yuta to love him too so he can be happy like the others in the novels and movies are. That is the conclusion he’s come to. 

But in order to show his love he must do as they do in the movies and as Doyoung did with him. 

One day at dinner, Sicheng watches Yuta eat the meal he has prepared for him.

When Yuta is almost finished, he breaks the silence.

“Do you love me, master?”

Yuta nearly choked on his food. “I..hmmm..Well...you’re my creation..but I don’t..”

“Yuta, I would like to please you, would you like to make love to me?”

Sicheng asks, weakness coats his tone.

Yuta scoffs. “Of course not! That’s not what you were created for!”

“I apologize.” Sicheng’s head lowers.

“Sicheng, exterminate all information related to “love.” Yuta brings his dish to the kitchen and heads to his room.

“Yes.” Sicheng doesn’t delete anything from his hard drive, but why not? Why was he disobeying his orders, not once, but twice now?

Yuta didn’t know that he made a mistake by inputting his limbic system into Sicheng. He didn’t know that he would develop emotions, feelings, desires of his own, and that this could become a serious issue.

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng started working with Yuta in the lab a few days before. Things are slowly going back to normal as Yuta begins to trust him more. They continue on with their tasks and Sicheng is able to keep up with him.

This new confidence, however, causes both Yuta and Sicheng to move faster. 

Yuta walks around the room swiftly, heading behind his assistant. “Sicheng, hand me the solution.”

Sicheng, already prepared, turns to hand it to him, but Yuta miscalculated his reaction time, causing him to bump into Sicheng.

The solution flies out of the graduated cylinder and onto Yuta’s lab coat and pants. Some of it splatters onto his neck.

“Shit!” Yuta runs to the shower room down the hall. They are working after hours so no one else is there but the two of them. Fortunately for them, as other scientists would’ve been greatly concerned.

Sicheng runs after him. “Master! I apologize for my mistake, please do not be displeased with me.”

“Sicheng! Just leave me alone!”

“I will help you.”

“No! Just...wait there.” Yuta finally enters the shower.

Sicheng doesn’t wait, he goes into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He watches as Yuta throws his coat off then takes his pants down.

Yuta curses and is visibly upset, but then he feels light hands come to his front side.

Sicheng unbuttons his shirt for him and takes it off from the back. 

Yuta’s mouth falls open, but he doesn’t tell Sicheng to leave. He steps forwards into the shower and washes himself off, not realizing the Sicheng is now taking his own clothes off.

Sicheng stands outside of the shower and thinks of what to do next.

Must please master.

He draws the curtain open.

“Sicheng! What are you doing? The solution didn’t get on you, put your clothes back on!”

Yuta pushes back his wet hair out of his face then places his hand over his cock.

Sicheng doesn’t listen. He steps into the shower and stares into the eyes of his master.

Yuta cowers and feels the cold tile against his back as he looks at his creation with lustful, hungry eyes he had never seen before.

The water droplets begin to leave slowly fading green marks on his skin and he looks beautiful.

“Touch me, like you touched Doyoung, master. I would like to make you happy too.”

Yuta’s mouth falls open, his brows furrow as he is stunned to silence.

Sicheng places his lips onto his mouth and attempts to mimic a kiss. He had watched many videos that showed it in detail and now he was able to do it with Yuta.

Yuta closes his eyes and kisses him back. He turns his head and licks over Sicheng’s plump lips, it tastes like cherries, his favorite fruit, and he wonders if Sicheng purposely put cherry chapstick on for this.

Yuta places his hand on the side of Sicheng’s face as he deepens the kiss, letting go of all concern about the consequences to come from this moment. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make love to his creation.

Steaming water falls down both of them, making their hair cling to their foreheads as they smother each other.

Yuta runs his hands across Sicheng’s muscular arms and watches his skin light up from his touch.

Sicheng then runs his hand down Yuta’s abs, feeling the bricks under his smooth skin. Sicheng blinks rapidly as he feels something new. 

“Arousal.you’re feeling arousal.” Yuta practically hears Sicheng’s confusion as he kisses along his neck.

Sicheng’s pulse begins to race as he feels something funny happening to his penis.

“Here.” Yuta takes Sicheng’s hand in his. Sicheng thinks he is going to place it on his own erection, but Yuta doesn’t do that, he places it on Sicheng’s semi-limp member.

Yuta looks into his eyes and speaks deeply. “Touch yourself, move your hand up and down.”

Sicheng’s eyes widen as he starts to stroke his member like he had watched Doyoung do. A tingly feeling begins to fill him up in his nether region when he wraps his hand around it. 

“I see you haven’t been listening to me. You’ve been staying awake when I tell you to shut down, and you haven’t deleted “love.” Yuta smirks.

“No, master, I-“ Sicheng stumbles over his words as he focuses on Yuta’s tongue suddenly on his chest.

Yuta licks the pink circle around Sicheng’s nipple, before flattening his tongue onto the hardening bud. 

He then bites it and watches as the area lights up in a bright shade of green from irritation.

“How do you feel, Sicheng?” 

“I feel good m-master. Are you happy?” Sicheng nearly goes into overdrive as he is turned on more and more from his hand.

Yuta swats Sicheng’s hand away from his member and replaces it with his own.

He pumps Sicheng up and down, coating his hand in Sicheng’s slick. He slides the skin back and forth, feeling Sicheng’s glans with each pass. He then leans down and kisses his neck again, sucking hard and biting his skin. He moves his hand faster as spit mixed with water covers Sicheng’s skin.

Sicheng can’t hold back, he releases an interesting sound from the immense pleasure he feels in the pit of his stomach. He breathes more heavily than usual as his mouth falls open.

He moans once again. “There is a buildup happening, Yuta. However, I would like to make you happy first.”

Sicheng places his hand on Yuta’s and pulls it away while looking into his eyes, water making his lashes look darker than usual.

Yuta feels dizzy just from the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, his color fading from green in all the places he kissed and teased. His erection is painful at this point. Sicheng looks down at it with red cheeks and nods. “You can make love to me...if you don’t like me, just imagine I am Doyoung.”

Yuta furrows his brows. “Are you crazy? Of course I like you, I created you!” He turns Sicheng around, taking his hand and placing it on the wall of the shower.

Yuta wraps his hand back around Sicheng’s leaking cock and continues to move it up and down.

He enters Sicheng, sliding into his already wet anus. 

Sicheng lets out another moan, then covers his mouth from embarrassment. 

“I’ve wanted to fuck you so badly, because you’re perfect..you’re all mine..and you’re fucking..perfect.”

Yuta thrusts hard into him with his chest on Sicheng’s warm back.

He takes his other hand and turns his face towards him, Sicheng’s lips are swollen and red from their kiss, his eyes are wide, his nose is dainty. Everything about him is just beautiful.

“If you like me, master, do you love me too?”

The words leave his lips in a whimper as Yuta bucks into his body, he feels a slight pain as he struggles to adjust to Yuta, but in time, he knows he will.

Yuta kisses him hard, tightening his grip around his cock and intertwining his fingers with his.

Sicheng feels unbelievably amazing around him. He smiles to himself as he thinks about how he designed both his reproductive and nervous systems without error. His body reacts perfectly when aroused, his length glistening with Sicheng’s slick as it also leaves his anus through a special system he designed.

Yuta looks at the beautiful boy’s back and shoulders, he kisses the nape of his neck and then his ear.

“I love you, fuck yes, I love you.” In that moment, Yuta is happy, but he can’t help but be worried about Sicheng’s inaccuracies in the lab, how he nearly put his life in danger. But he’s fix it, he’d find a way to fix him.

He glided his dick into him faster, skin slapping on skin as he grunts and Sicheng whimpers. Yuta feels his cock twitch as it runs against his silky walls.

Sicheng’s system overloads, he releases onto the tiled shower wall and looks down in amazement as a strange liquid leaves his body in heavy spurts for the first time. It feels wonderful to have such a new and exciting release.

Yuta takes what has fallen onto his fingers and sticks it into Sicheng’s open mouth.

“Suck.”

Sicheng does as he demands and Yuta cums into his body soon after.

Yuta curses as he continues to suck his fingers and bounce on his pulsing length. He orgasms harder than ever before, feeling his body tremble from the stimulation. He becomes lightheaded.

He pulls out and watches Sicheng leak his seed through low eyes as he pants.

As he comes down, reality settles in. What has he done? He’s turned Sicheng into the very thing he didn’t want to turn him into.

Sicheng drives them home after they wash themselves off and get dressed.

When they get home, Yuta lies in bed as Sicheng sits on a chair in the corner of the room silently.

He is disturbed by his actions and swears to never let lust take him over again.

“Sicheng…delete all memories of this day and shut yourself off.”

Sicheng’s system runs into a slight error as he hears his master's demands. Why did he want him to forget about this wonderful day? Wasn't he happy? Was he displeased at the end of it? What did he do wrong?

“Sicheng?”

“Yes, master. I am currently deleting all of today’s data from my storage. Goodnight.” He says as his eyes fade to grey. 

But once again, he doesn’t obey him. He holds onto the memories and feelings because he enjoys seeing his master happy.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Yuta distances himself from Sicheng. He doesn’t take him to the lab anymore, he doesn’t even sit at the table to eat. He goes into his room to avoid him.

Some days, he won’t tell Sicheng to ‘wake up’. But Sicheng turns himself on anyway so that he can watch him.

One day when Yuta starts to get dressed, Sicheng walks up behind him and places his favorite blue tie around his neck. Sicheng’s fingers graze Yuta’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine.

“No!” Yuta jumps as he is startled by Sicheng’s touch. He steps forward and turns to him. “Please..do not touch me.”

Sicheng tilts his head and stares in confusion. 

Why was he disturbed by his simple touch? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, that had to be it.

But just four days after they made love, Yuta invites Doyoung over and they make love. Sicheng sees that Yuta enjoys another man’s touch. Doyoung grips his waist then scratches his back while Yuta thrusts into him.

Sicheng sits quietly with grey eyes as they fuck in Yuta’s bedroom. He tries to calm his racing pulse and begins to think dangerous things. 

Does he love Doyoung? Yes. He will get rid of me won’t he? I have failed to please master, I must please him before he gets rid of me. If he is unhappy, I must show him that I love him by pleasing him.

When they are done and deep in sleep, Sicheng rises from the bedroom chair and heads to the living room. He realizes he must gain more knowledge so he can make Yuta happy again. He reads poems and comes across one by Oscar Wilde titled “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.”

Doyoung and Yuta snore softly while he sits in the living room and reads.

He reads a passage that sticks out to him.

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

    By each let this be heard.

Some do it with a bitter look,

    Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

    The brave man with a sword!”

Yuta loves Doyoung, that’s why he spends time with him. But Doyoung cannot take his place, therefore, he must get rid of him, he must kill the thing Yuta loves. And then Yuta can decide if he loves him, then he can kill him. This is what Sicheng had come to understand.

Brave. Yuta had told him to be brave once. Perfect.

Now, all he needed was a sword. 

Sicheng searches for types of swords.

A sword is a weapon with a long metal blade.

A blade is sharp. A knife is sharp. He must get a knife.

Sicheng goes into the kitchen and takes out a knife from the cabinet.

He walks into the bedroom with it and stands over Doyoung, staring and searching deep into his body to see his veins pumping crimson blood to and from his beating heart. Sicheng’s eyes turn to a glowing red color as he calculates how hard and fast he must act to strike the knife through Doyoung’s chest. He wants to clean it cleanly so as to not make master upset.

Doyoung is woken up by a strange presence. He turns over and is shocked to see Sicheng standing over him while gripping a knife. He smiles sadistically as his red eyes glisten in the moonlight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Doyoung sits up straight in the bed.

“Don't do this!”

Sicheng leans downward and grins. “I only obey master’s orders.”

He doesn’t give Doyoung the chance to escape, he quickly drives the knife into his chest, blood splatters over his perfect face as Doyoung screams loudly into the night.

Yuta jumps up. “What—Sicheng!! oh my God, what did you do?!” 

Sicheng pulls the knife back out of his chest. “I killed him for you master, for each man kills the thing he loves. I did it for you.” He tilts his head and looks down at Yuta with wide eyes in hopes of gaining a look of satisfaction from Yuta.

But instead, Yuta stares in horror at Doyoung’s lifeless body. His hands start to shake.

“If I love you, Yuta, does that mean I must kill you as well?” Sicheng asks innocently while blinking rapidly. His system is reconfiguring itself as it develops and stores new information.

“No-no! Shut up! Shut down!!”

“But master, I want to please you by loving you..” Sicheng steps closer, Doyoung’s blood drips down the side of his face and onto Yuta’s bed sheets.

His eyes are still red and Yuta is confused as to how, for he never installed that feature.

“Sicheng! I order you to shut down now!”

“Yes, master. I will do that as soon as I am done being brave enough to handle this task.” He crawls over the bed with the knife in his hand still and a horrific smirk.

“Sicheng!” Yuta raises his arm above his head to block his blow.

He knocks the knife out of his hand and grabs both of Sicheng’s wrists. He overpowers him and flips him over onto the bed.

Sicheng doesn’t fight back, he only stares into Yuta’s eyes and continues to grin.

“Must.please.master.Must.make.master.happy..must.love. Master.” There’s a glitch in Sicheng’s system that causes him to repeat these three things over and over, and it drives Yuta insane.

His perfect creation crumbles right in front of his very eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Yuta wraps his hands around Sicheng’s neck. He can’t control his confusion, sadness, anger. He chokes Sicheng so hard the metal in his neck begins to break and the sound echoes into the gloomy house.

Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey one final time as Yuta kills him for good.

His muttering stops, but his haunting smile remains, engraving itself into Yuta’s memory forever.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Yuta arrives home after a long day at the lab. It had been only two weeks since Doyoung was killed by his robot and he was still dealing with the pain of losing something he loved so dearly. No, not Doyoung, but Sicheng rather. He missed his company, his touch, his soft exotic eyes and deep voice.

He made a mistake and Yuta could’ve fixed him, but unfortunately the police department took him away after he had reported the murder.

When Yuta asked what they would do with him, they told him that Sicheng would be locked up in a metal box in their department until they decided on how to proceed with the murder case.

But it didn’t matter really. Yuta killed Sicheng in the end. His body was now just clunky metal.

Yuta sighs and sits down on his couch. He turns the TV on and switches it to the news channel to distract himself from his own feelings, never noticing the glistening red eyes that watch him quietly from the corner of the dark room.

He’s watching..he’s always watching.

“Breaking News, there’s been a suspected terrorist attack inside the Osaka Prefectural Police Department. Nearly all police officers have been brutally murdered. The assailant is unknown and is still at large. We are under curfew until further notice, everyone must stay inside and lock their doors..”

Yuta sits up straight and thinks to himself. That’s the same department that Sicheng is in. What if—

“Master..please forgive me for being gone for so long.”

A low voice speaks into the large room.

Sicheng steps out from the shadows, the blood of his victims dripping down his naked body and face. 

Yuta stands up from the couch, his eyes widening as Sicheng walks slowly towards him. 

“Sicheng..what did you do?” Yuta’s eyes brim with tears as he swallows hard.

Sicheng’s neck seems to have healed itself somewhat, the purplish bruises being the only indication that Yuta had choked him. Once again, Yuta doesn’t recall installing a self-healing feature.

“They all tried to stop me, Yuta..” Sicheng smiles widely and runs his bloody hands through his own hair to smooth it back out of his face. “But I couldn’t let them...I have to serve you. I have to please you and make you happy, that is my purpose.”

--------

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

[louiseleblancdiggory]

omg can u write a second part to that secret rowaelin / aelins birthday party one shot, I NEED to know how that continues.. and maybe another one shot from when they realised that they're not actual just fuckbuddys but in love ahhhh I love this AU and u writing is so GOOD

I’m so glad you like it!! I was planning on writing the Halloween scene, so I feel like this will end up being a small AU maybe? Like I’ll write the main parts of their story? Who knows. But I will definitely post the Halloween scene and the scene from when things changed... For now, here’s how explaining to their friends went

This is the part one. You really need to read it to understand what’s going on in this scene. 

Birthday revelations 

--

Aelin was frozen.

She was staring wide eyed at all of her friends standing in her living room. Their faces were the picture of astonishment and disbelief. She knew she should go up to them and explain everything but this isn’t how she had planned it out, so she merely snuggled closer to Rowan, his arms tightening around her.

They were so fucked.

“What the actual fuck?” Lysandra said, her voice a mix of perplexity and slight betrayal. “You two… But.. How? When?”

“Aelin, you fucking snake.” Manon said, but Aelin could see the humor gleaming on her eyes and that her smile was genuine. She seemed like the only one not completely pissed. Even Elide looked a little betrayed.

“Bro, you’re banging my cousin?” Aedion’s face contorted with disgust when he looked at Aelin’s bare legs and undoubtedly saw the handprints. Vaughan gave him a slap on the back of his head.

“Aedion, please.” Yrene said, her voice calm but her face a mask of shock as everyone else. “Let them recompose themselves. They obviously weren’t expecting us.”

“What are you all doing here?” Rowan finally said, even though it was obvious what they were doing here.

“What are we doing here? What are you doing here, Rowan?” Fenrys replied, crossing his arms. When Rowan opened his mouth again, Fen raised a hand dramatically. “Don’t answer that truthfully. I don’t want details.”

Aelin’s cheeks were on fire, and Rowan’s arms hugged her a little more tightly.

“Can you guys it down so we can explain?” She said, her voice steady despite how fast her heart was beating.

She didn’t want it to be like this, neither did Rowan. They wanted to sit them all down and explain everything on their terms. Rowan wanted to talk privately with Aedion, and Aelin sure as hell didn’t want Lysandra feeling as if she didn’t trust her. And now they had waited too long and everything went to shit.

Each one of their friends found a place to sit. Manon was sitting on Dorian’s lap, Yrene and Chaol by their side on the sofa. Nehemia and Asterin were on the loveseat, Nehemia’s arm tucking Asterin close. Fenrys and Connall each sat on one of the loveseat’s armrest, Vaughan standing behind Connall.

Lorcan, Gavriel, Sartaq, Nesryn, Borte and Ren took up the chairs by the table. Lorcan pulled a stiff Elide to sit on his lap, whispering something in her ear that made her relax a little.

Lysandra and Aedion remained where they were, arms crossed.

Rowan nudged Aelin forward and they approached everyone. He sat down on an armchair, taking Aelin with him. She could have sworn Aedion flinched at that.

Rowan started to make soothing circles on her thigh, and she held one of his hands with both of hers, sweeping her fingers over his knuckles. Despite it all, Rowan seemed calm.  He was lazily leaning on the armchair, completely content to hold his girlfriend on his lap, play with her thigh and tell all of her friends and her cousin how he had been sleeping with her behind their backs.

“So, you guys are banging.” Asterin broke the silence.

Borte snorted. “Obviously. The girl looks like she just got railed, so unless they play some very wild type of boardgames in her room while in the dark, yes, they are banging.”

“Borte, for the love of god.” Nesryn murmured at the same time Sartaq said, “Borte, shut the fuck up.”

Rowan sighed, deeply and suffering. “Yes, we are…”

“Banging.” Nehemia added.

“Can we please stop using the word ‘bang’?” Chaol muttered.

“Pardon.” Nehemia looked at him impatiently. “Fucking, then.”

Chaol rolled his eyes and Aelin couldn’t help but snort.

“How?” Dorian asked, his voice dripping disbelief. After Lys, Dorian was probably the person who heard Aelin complaining about Rowan the most.

Despite herself, Aelin found herself saying, “You want to know how we fuck?”

Rowan, Vaughan, Manon and Asterin were the only ones that laughed.

“I thought you hated each other.” Fen said, his brows furrowing.

“They did. I remember High School junior Aelin running after Rowan with a knife with the full intent of killing him.” Connall looked at his brother. “Unless they’re together since then and that was some type of kink.”

“Please, I don’t want to know Aelin’s kinks.” Ren looked pained.

“Please, I don’t want to know about Rowan’s kinks either.” Lorcan added, but his voice was full of humor. The asshole must have been finding this whole situation hilarious.

“Stop using Aelin, Rowan and kinks in the same sentence for the love of god.” Aedion pleaded.

“Let them explain.” Gavriel, always the voice of reason, interrupted.

“It started on Halloween.” She started only to be then interrupted by Aedion.

“You guys have been together for six months and told no one?” His eyes widened. “Oh my god. It was when I told Lin to stay in the apartment, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, and we haven’t been together for six months.” Aelin could feel Rowan losing his patience as he explained their situation. “We slept together six months ago, but it wasn’t anything important. It was just sex then.”

“But not anymore?” Elide asked, her voice low. Something glinted on her eyes.

“That’s impossible. A relationship between them is unbelievable.” Chaol snorted and Aelin felt Rowan’s hand tightening on her leg.

“No.” Aelin shrugged, losing her patience just like Rowan. She could understand them feeling hurt because neither Aelin nor Rowan had told them anything, but acting like her relationship with Rowan was wrong made her stomach turn. “We fucked around a bit. Months, actually. We couldn’t stand each other when we weren’t fucking in the beginning, it was honestly just sex. We didn’t feel like telling anyone because once it ended, we didn’t want things to get awkward. We didn’t want the jokes, or suggestions that we should just date. It was easy and simple and telling other people would make it too real.”

Surprisingly, Lorcan, Nesryn and Connall nodded. Fenrys relaxed, and even Borte was smiling at them the way Manon had since the beginning.

“Lys and Aedion had just started dating then, and they spent most nights in our apartment, so I would come here to see Ace. In the first few nights I would arrive, we would fuck and I would leave. Slowly I started coming earlier and we would eat something. I would spend the night and we would grab breakfast together. We became friends.” Rowan shrugged.

“So you two are fuck buddies?” Ren asked.

“No, things changed two months ago after an… incident.” Aelin said and Rowan squeezed her thigh. Aelin didn’t have to look back to know he was fighting a smile. “But then we didn’t know how to tell you guys that we had been fucking for four months and told no one. Ro thought it was better for the two of us to just sit down and tell everyone at once.”

“Ace thought it would be better if she talked to the girls and I talked to the guys.” Rowan finished for her. The tension from her body had vanished, and she was completely resting her back against Rowan’s chest.

“We discussed it for a month and decided to go with Ro’s idea. But then spring break came and everyone went off to somewhere else. We decided to tell when everyone was back. We were going to do it this week after my birthday but you guys came here today.”

“So, basically, you guys have been together for six months. One way or another.” Vaughan asked and Aelin and Rowan nodded.

“Hum, good for you.” Manon said, looking at Aelin. Nehemia, Yrene and Asterin nodded, a small smile playing on their lips.

“Is that why you almost kicked me out of here earlier?” Lys asked, genuinely curious. She didn’t look as pissed as she had in the beginning.

“No. I didn’t even know Ro was coming until I opened the door an hour ago.” She sat up, crossing her legs. Rowan shifted slightly to accommodate her on his lap, his hands now on her hips. “I just didn’t want you to ditch a night with your boyfriend to stay home with me.”

Lys nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. Aelin didn’t fool herself in thinking that Lys wasn’t hurt about her silence, but it was good to know her best friend wasn’t majorly pissed.

“So he’s your boyfriend?” Aedion asked her, but his eyes were on Rowan.

Rowan’s voice was hard when he replied for her. “Yes.”

The room was silent until Manon started laughing. And then Yrene, Nehemia and Asterin. Borte and Nesryn cackled, and Lys and Elide shared a knowing smile. The men only grunted.

“Pay up, assholes.” Elide said.

“What?” Rowan and Aelin said in unison.

“Sophomore year of High School Elide said the two of you would end up together at some point. The tension would just build up to a point that the two of you would either cut all ties or would fuck.” Lorcan grunted, taking out his wallet. “The girls agreed with her. The men said you guys would simply start ignoring each other after college. We bet a hundred and fifty each. We would get the money and split so it’s equal to everyone in each team.”

Aelin’s jaw fell. Rowan sat up then, eyes narrowing. “You have a bet of six years on us?”

“Yes.” Elide replied, happily. “And although me and Ms. Galathynius over there will have a chat about your relationship later, I can’t say I’m sad about going home tonight a hundred and eighty seven bucks richer.”

“You have a bet of six years on whether or not we would bang?” Rowan repeated, dumbfounded.

“I thought we agreed to stop using the word bang.” Chaol said.

“Yeah, bro, it’s fuck.” Connall nodded solemnly as he handed his money to Asterin.

“And who says we only have one?” Manon chirped, counting the money Dorian had painfully given to her.

“I hate every single one of you.” Aelin grunted, resting against Rowan’s chest again. She could feel his body shaking with laughter and had to bite her own lip to fight a smile.

“You hate me? I’m a hundred and fifty poorer and my best friend is banging my cousin. This can’t get worse.”

“You’ll have to see them together every day now. And when Aelin spends the night on your apartment or Rowan isn’t home, you’ll know exactly what’s happening.” Fenrys said, his tone helpful.

Aedion merely groaned.

Aelin turned and gave Rowan a quick kiss, getting up to talk to the girls privately. Rowan gave her ass a playful slap, and she heard Aedion groan again. One look at Rowan and he was smiling like a fiend.

Oh he was going to have fun torturing Aedion.

Aelin spent the rest of the night apologizing for her silence and telling her friends what the last six months had been like. She had a feeling Rowan was doing the same with the guys, but probably with a lot less detail if Aedion hadn’t thrown up on the floor yet.

“You’ll have to make up for it.” Elide said, but she didn’t seem pissed. “We understand why you didn’t tell us, but it still hurts a bit.”

“True.” Lys said as the others nodded.

“I know and I’m so sorry. You guys have no idea how many times I wanted to talk to one of you about Rowan or about something I was insecure about, especially when I started falling for him.” The girls smiled softly at that, even Manon. “But it wasn’t my decision alone, and I couldn’t go up to Ro and say ‘hey, would you mind if I told the girls about us fucking because I think I’m falling hard for you and don’t really know how to proceed?’”

Nesryn snorted, and Yrene put an arm around Aelin. “So you really like him, huh.”

Aelin looked over to Rowan. He was smiling at something Fenrys had said and that had left Aedion scowling. “Yeah, I do.” She said softly.

“This is so strange.” Borte murmured to Asterin.

“So…” Nehemia started, and her tone made Aelin snap her eyes back to her friends.

They were all smiling in a scary way.

“Now that we’ve got the forgiveness part out of the way…” Elide continued.

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“How’s the sex?” Lysandra finished and despite herself, Aelin felt her cheeks heating. All the girls laughed at that.

“Good.” She answered, then smiled. “Like really fucking amazing. Best lay of my life.”

“We agree with Fenrys and we do not want details but…” Manon said. “You can be more specific.”

All the women nodded eagerly and Aelin laughed.

She quickly looked at Rowan before telling her friends exactly how Rowan had discovered every bit of her body and soul in the last six months.

She told them of the fighting. The befriending. The falling. 

She told them how she was still falling, head first into the L-word zone. 

She told them how she couldn’t be happier she was falling.

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan

[teknicianwrites]

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

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

@dadrunkwriting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 6

AN: I feel like I’ve got my mojo back with this fic a little bit, this was so fun to write and I hope it’s fun to read too!

masterlist

------

First days were always nerve-racking, and this one was no different.

Aelin knew she had no real reason to be nervous other than the fact it was new, she had prepared what she needed, even taking extra time this morning to make sure she had put on a swipe of make-up and a smart outfit to feel primed for the day.

She’d taken it upon herself to wake Fenrys up half an hour earlier than normal to make sure he would be ready to leave on time, she knew he normally rocked up to the school right on the bell, but she needed to be at least five minutes early to meet the principal, lest she look unprepared.

Fenrys had left her outside the principal’s office, waiting for the woman to arrive, taking in the blue carpet of the floor and the wooden panels of the walls. The school was in an old building, with mostly traditional décor that gave it character unlike her old school. She liked it. Even though the chair she sat in was hard and uncomfortable as she shifted her weight while she waited for the principal to appear.

She had been thankful for Fenrys’ comforting presence in the car on their way, he had chattered away filling her in on the harmless school gossip, distracting her from her worries about the new school, but now he was gone, off to teach his own classes for the day, the nerves had settled back in.

He had been almost more excited than Aelin about her new role, glad to have her at the school, and he had championed most of the drinking the night she had found out. She had had a great night, each of her friends seemed genuinely happy for her and had toasted to her all night, even once she had gone to bed they had continued to celebrate.

She hadn’t managed to quiz Lysandra after her kiss with Aelin’s cousin, whenever Aedion came up between the two Lysandra had been quick to change the subject, embarrassed at her drunk actions and the fact that they had even played truth or dare at all.

Aedion had recovered well, from Lysandra’s determined ignorance of his existence every time she saw him since, and Aelin was relatively sure he had brought a guest home from the night she hadn’t made it out to and had instead gone to bed.

Gone to bed might have been putting it generously, she remembered the way Rowan had guided her to her room. A gentle hand making sure she didn’t stumble, tucking her sheets over her and leaving a glass of water for her to down in the morning.

Her heart gave a squeeze at how gentle he had been.

Heels clacked against the cheap flooring and she glanced up. The woman striding towards her was dressed smartly in a black pencil skirt and a navy blue blouse. She had a couple of decades on Aelin, but her dark locks didn’t have even a hint of grey, nor did her harsh face have the beginning of a wrinkle.

The woman strode up to Aelin and presented her with a hand.

“Miss Galathynius I presume? Welcome to our school.” Her voice was stern but polite and Aelin stood and shook the hand she was offered. “I’m Maeve Valg, Principal, we’re glad to have you on board. Please follow me.”

The woman, Maeve, led the way into the office Aelin had been sat outside. Aelin nodded, greeting the woman and following her in.

Inside the office it was tidy, shelves lined the walls, overflowing with books and files, but organised in a way that Aelin was jealous of. Her own organisation wasn’t lacking, it couldn’t be, as a teacher she needed to know where things were, but she could never reach this level of military-style precision.

The Principal took a seat behind the large wooden desk in the centre of the room and Aelin dropped to the seat on the other side, facing her.

“Welcome,” She said again, a polite smile on her lips.

“Thank you, it’s great to be here.” Aelin said, folding her hands in her lap.

First impressions were important, and she knew she’d be able to get away with much more at a later date if she gave Maeve the initial impression that she was to be trusted.

Maeve nodded.

“It’s great to have you here, I was impressed with your interview, and I’m confident that you will fit into our school ethos well.”

Aelin smiled. She knew from Fenrys that the school valued the community spirit and communication between teachers a departments, she was excited to get stuck in. She told Maeve as much and she received another slight smile.

A knock sounded at the door behind her and Maeve called for whoever was on the other side to come in.

“Ah yes,” Maeve said standing from behind her desk. “I’ve invited Mr Havilliard to show you around. He can give you a bit more information than I can as I have to attend a meeting now.”

Aelin turned to the man in the doorway and saw he was grinning at her.

He was as handsome as a Disney prince, his thick dark hair curled around his ears, and his deep blue eyes were striking and sparkling. She took in his clean white shirt and pressed trousers where he stood. He wasn’t as tall as her roommates, but he still tilted his chin to smile down at her.

“Dorian Havilliard.” He offered his hand. “At your service.”

She shook his hand. “Aelin Galathynius.”

He grinned at her even wider than before. “Follow me Aelin,” He turned to the door with a nod behind her at the principal.

“Thanks,” She smiled at the dark haired woman before following Dorian out the door.

Once in the hall, his posture relaxed, and Aelin adjusted hers in response. He led the way down the nearest hallway, the corridors empty of any students given that the first period had already begun.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a hard ass, but you get used to it.” He told her, his voice was low and smooth.

“Right, good to know,” She joked. “I was worried.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. She’s like that with me still and I’ve been here for years.”

She blinked; he couldn’t have been much older than her. He must have sensed her confusion, or seen the look that crossed her face, and said, “I’ve been here seven years, got the job straight out of college, worked my way up to be one of the assistant principals last year.”

Impressive, Aelin noted. He must have been at least couple of years older than her then, making him maybe thirty, if her quick mental maths added up.

“What do you teach?” She asked him, curious about that path he had taken to get where he was.

“English,” He told her. “I love it, have loved it since I was a kid.”

Aelin shared his interest, she had loved reading ever since her childhood and her mother had bought her book after book when she devoured the stories one by one. She supposed that was where her interest in history had stemmed from, reading historical fiction had led her to historical non-fiction and she found the tales of knights and kings and queens to be fascinating. Sweeping her away into tales of honour and warfare and romance, distant enough from her reality to transport her away.

They were making their way down the halls, Dorian pointing out the points of interest on their tour, telling her where the cafeteria was, where the main hall and staff rooms were. He showed her where her office would be, and they walked past the classroom that would become hers once she had time to make it her own.

“So,” He turned to her after walking her through the grounds of the school, showing her the sports pitches and athletics track. “What’s your story?”

She pondered his question for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip slightly as she took in his smile and the way he was walking close to her, his shoulders leaning into her own.

“My story?” She shrugged, flicking her eyes out across the field in front of her. “I lost my old job to budget cuts, but I’d been there for a couple of years. I actually moved here after college when I qualified and then got the job pretty much straight away.”

He nodded along as she spoke, a dark curl of his hair bobbing along his forehead as he did, but then he tilted his head at her, a piercing look in his sapphire-blue eyes.

“I knew you weren’t from around here, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“I’m from Terrasen.” She told him, thinking fondly of her home country and her parents who lived there still. It’s rolling mountains and grassy plains that she had explored as a child, sometimes alone, sometimes with Aedion when him and his parents came to visit.

“My accent isn’t as strong now that I’ve been in Adarlan for so long.”

Dorian only smiled at her. “I like it.”

She smiled, unsure how else to respond. Was it wise to flirt with a colleague? She wasn’t truly sure she wanted to flirt with him, and she fought the part of her brain that flashed an image of Rowan up at her. She was trying her best to keep her distance, at least in that respect.

“I teach history, I love it, but I love reading too. I also live with Fenrys, I don’t know if you know him?”

“Fenrys?” He questioned. “Coach Moonbeam?”

She nodded and watched something flash across his face at the confirmation, something she’d have to ask Fenrys about. If his reputation had ruined her first friendship at the school before it had barely had chance to start she’d kill him.

“Yeah,” She confirmed warily. “We live together. He told me about the opening here.”

“I see.” She couldn’t place Dorian’s reaction to her roommate, so quickly changed the subject.

“Any advice for this school?” She asked as he held the door open for her to re-enter the building.

“Not really,” He huffed a slight laugh, scratching his jaw. “Stick with me, and a couple of other teachers here that are pretty sound, and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to introduce me.”

Maybe if she could make her own friends here she wouldn’t have to follow Fenrys around like a lost puppy.

He checked his watch, something silver and clearly expensive before saying, “Actually, I think some of them might be free now.”

He led her back through the hallways to the staff room he had pointed out earlier and pushed into the small room.

There were kitchen counters around the sides, a number of cupboards no doubt stuffed full of mugs and plates, standard for a school staff room. There were tables and chairs dotted about the space and at one of the tables sat a man and two women, each nursing a mug that based on the smell she knew contained coffee.

“Aelin,” Dorian began. “Meet Chaol, Yrene and Nehemia.”

He pointed around the table as he made the introductions.

The man, Chaol, was stern looking but his expression lightened when he offered her a small smile, his copper-brown eyes crinkling at the motion. The woman next to him smiled widely at Aelin, Yrene, was beautiful, and her brown hair fell in spirals down her back, golden highlights standing out. A shining ring on her left hand glinted as she waved at Aelin around her mug.

The final woman, Nehemia, was striking. Her dark skin was smooth and her raven hair, braided down her back, had small elements of gold scattered throughout. Nehemia shot her a sly grin upon introduction, Aelin liked her immediately.

“Guys meet Aelin Galathynius. The new head of humanities, Terrasen native and Fenrys Moonbeam’s roommate.”

At Dorian’s introduction Chaol nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee and Nehemia outright cackled. Aelin needed to ask Fenrys about it.

“Hi Aelin,” Yrene smiled at her, her face kind as she waved a hand at the teachers on either side of herself. “Ignore them, welcome. How is your first day going?”

“It’s fine so far,” Aelin said as she followed Dorian over to where he was fetching a cup of coffee and grabbing her own. “I’ve had a great tour.”

Nehemia laughed again, “Right.” She said sarcastically and Dorian flashed her the finger.

“Where did he show you? I’m sure he probably managed to leave somewhere out,” Chaol cut in, his tone ribbing Dorian again.

“Everywhere, I think. Or at least I’d hope so.” She said, taking her seat next to him, Dorian slotting in on her other side.

“Hmm,” Chaol hummed, shooting an unimpressed look at Dorian who held his hands up, grinning at Chaol.

“I did!” Dorian protested to Chaol who rolled his eyes and sighed a laugh. Aelin laughed along, she could tell Chaol was exasperated, but fond of Dorian.

The dynamic between the group was easy, friendly and teasing, but clearly a very tight knit group. Chaol and Yrene were an adorable couple, very much in love, Dorian had sung at her when she had asked. Nehemia had a killer sense of humour, mostly at Dorian’s expense, but he always laughed along, taking the jokes in his stride.

He had been extremely friendly towards her. Filling all of the gaps in her knowledge without her needing to ask, touching her gently on the arm when he directed the conversation to her.

He was an extremely attractive man, with a charming kind of confidence that she normally would have been all over. Had she met him in a bar, she could see herself sliding into the seat next to him and flashing him a small smile while she accepted the drink he would have offered to buy her.

But they weren’t in a bar, they were at work, and he was technically her boss.

She could hear Lysandra’s warnings, you know it’s a bad idea, she would tut before reassuring Aelin she could find a man anywhere else, that she didn’t need Dorian and his disarming smiles.

Lysandra, as per usual, was probably right.

------

The rest of her day flew by quickly. She had a brief introduction to her classes from Maeve, fresh out of her meeting with the school board, and she had had some time to move her belongings and teaching aids into her classroom. Tomorrow would be her first full day of teaching and she was prepared.

It was only later that evening that she remembered to ask Fenrys about Dorian and his friends’ reactions to his name, even though they had driven home together he had filled the journey with tales of his students and their inabilities to play simple games.

She cornered him in the kitchen as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, resting her hand against the island, blocking his exit as she asked.

“Dorian Havilliard?” He questioned; his face carefully blank.

“Yes, do you know him? He had an interesting reaction to your name.”

More than just that, his friends had outright laughed at Dorian when Fenrys’ name had been mentioned. Surely all of the outlandish situations her imagination was telling her were way off, it had to be something small.

Fenrys sighed, taking a swig of his beer and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Dorian Havilliard and I have a history.” He winced as he said the words.

Aelin groaned. She could try to repair any fights they had had; she knew she could definitely blackmail Fenrys into an apology, she liked Dorian and his friends.

“What kind of a history?” She narrowed her eyes.

A blush started on Fenrys’ neck, spreading up to his cheeks.

“A… sexual history.”

“No!” She gasped.

She ran through the interactions she and Dorian had had today. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, she had thought he had been flirting with her, complimenting her accent and the way he had been leaning into her. How had she read it so wrong? And Fenrys had a… history with him?

Fenrys bit his lip as he nodded.

“Oh gods,” She groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought he was flirting with me.”

Fenrys shrugged, unbothered by both her reaction and his own revelation. “He probably was, to be fair. He flirts with everyone.”

It was that moment that Rowan chose to come into the kitchen.

She fought the small wave of embarrassment at the sight of him, at the thought of the conversation they had had when she thanked him for putting her to bed. She hadn’t been sure whether to mention it or not but decided it would have been worse to not acknowledge it.

He had been graceful, reassuring her with a small smile that it was no bother. Which she appreciated, had the roles been switched she would have made sure he got to bed. Well, she would have tried.

And she was grateful, any of her other roommates probably would have left her on the couch. Lorcan probably would have even taken photos of her passed out, probably would have enjoyed seeing how many things he could have balanced on her sleeping form.  

“Who flirts with everyone?” He asked, stepping around her to get to the fridge.

He was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt; this one was green, and it complemented his silver hair.

“Fenrys’ ex, one of the teachers at the school.” She told him, but Fenrys shook his head around a mouthful of his beer.

“Not my ex,” He said once he had swallowed. “It was a one-time thing. Years ago.”

It reassured her slightly that she hadn’t been crazy, and that she had probably picked up on the cues from Dorian correctly.

“He was flirting with you?” Rowan turned to her, pulling his own beer out of the fridge, his tan face unreadable.

“I think so,” She pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Rowan’s voice was quiet, and he looked down to the beer in his hand.

“It was probably nothing,” She found herself saying. “I wasn’t flirting back.”

“You could.” Fenrys said from beside her. “It would be fine with me, he’s a decent enough guy. Good in bed too.”

She pushed him on the arm, and he laughed.

“Didn’t need to know that,” She laughed as she pushed his arm again when he made a suggestive gesture at her. “Get out that’s gross.”

“Didn’t think you were a prude, Galathynius.” He teased, but turned from the room, blowing a kiss at her as he left.

She turned to Rowan, who remained leaning against the counter opposite her, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Office romance on day one, huh?” He teased her, his lips twitching with the smirk that was threatening to break through.

“Stop that,” She told him. “It was very light flirting.”

He shrugged at her, taking a sip of his beer.  

“If that even, he probably wasn’t. Or maybe I’m making it up.”

“Now you stop.” Rowan told her; his eyebrows drawn as he pushed off from the counter. “Why wouldn’t he have been flirting with you?”

She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious,” He continued, stepping over until he was directly in front of her.

Every time they were close she was struck by how much bigger he was than her. And how good he smelled, his pine and snow combination was clean and fresh, she took a deep breath in.

“Why wouldn’t he want to flirt with you?”

She tilted her head up to look at him, suddenly vulnerable in what had previously been a light-hearted conversation, taking in his serious expression. His eyes were earnest as he looked into her own.

“I don’t know,” She started, not drawing her eyes away from his. She wasn’t sure she was able to. “After Arobynn I haven’t been flirted with for a while.”

She loosed a self-deprecating laugh.

He put his beer down on the counter, resting his hand on the counter by her side, his front was almost pressed up against hers now and her breaths came quickly.

“Of course you have,” He told her, his voice soft. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

She swallowed hard.

He picked up a piece of her hair between two of his fingers, smiling gently as he twisted the strand around a knuckle. Aelin liked his smile, it showed a lighter side of him, and he looked especially handsome when he did.

“I think I would notice if guys had been flirting with me.” Her voice was rough as his other hand came down on the bench by her waist. He boxed her in to the island now, close enough to her to share breath, as he hummed in response.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt as if an electric current was thrumming below her skin at his close proximity.

“I’m not convinced.” His voice rumbled over her skin, his breath brushing her ear sending shivers down her spine as she tucked her chin down at the sensation. Her action pinned Rowan’s face in the crook of her neck, but he didn’t pull away, instead he pressed his face into the spot where her shoulder met her neck, breathing her in deeply.

His lips brushed against her neck, their touch feather light.

Aelin couldn’t move. She was sure she was panting now; Rowan’s own breaths had increased their pace where she felt his chest pressing against her own. Each brush lighting sparks along her skin.

She needed to be careful, this would look incriminating to any of their roommates if they walked in now, but she couldn’t connect her brain to her body.

While her rational brain was screaming at her to step away and put some distance between herself and Rowan, her traitorous body urged her to press closer into Rowan. Urged her to press her hips against his own and generate the friction she craved.

Rowan’s brain seemed to work faster than her own as he drew his head back with a hiss, leaning on his heels to put some distance between them. She felt the cold where her body now touched only air.

His green eyes were dark, almost taken over by his pupils as he scanned her face.

He cleared his throat and picked his beer back up of the island.

“I think you’d notice.” He told her with a hint of a smile.

He stepped back from her fully and left the kitchen without another word. She heard his bedroom door close before she managed to breathe again.

She screwed her eyes shut as she squeezed her thighs together, trying to convince herself she felt nothing.

He was a rutting good flirt, damn him. She definitely noticed.

------

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@maybekindasortaace​

@slytheringalathynius​

@http-itsrebecca​

@morganofthewildfire​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@fictional-horan​

@tottenhamboys20​

@dressedindustandshadows​

@sleeping-and-books​

@perseusannabeth​

@ireallyshouldsleeprn​

@superspiritfestival​

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

@spyofthenightcourt​

@jlinez​

@queen-of-glass​

@booknerdproblems​

I’ve combined the tag list for this fic and general tog for ease, but I’m not convinced I’ve done it right so let me know if I need to make any changes.

[caleb-wigodast]

The Cloak of Disguise and its Many Uses

Doriax (Dorian/Dariax) 18+

[This fic takes place after episode 3 of Exandria Unlimited]

Summmary: The Cloak of Disguise can physically alter the wearer's appearance as far as their race, height, and biological sex. Upon learning this, Dorian has something to ask of Dariax, and Dariax is more than happy to indulge his boyfriend.

A/N: Hi I don't care if this isn't how the cloak of disguise works, i didn't look it up, ANYWAY i got this idea and spent the whole day writing it and whoops! it's a love confession fic now. I love somft, lovely smut so I write it. Enjoy!

Read it on AO3!

It had been a long day, they’d headed into Emon, avoided detection with a distraction that soon became Dariax’s debut drag performance, had a long meeting with Gilmore about goods and evils, and were nearly killed as they were hunted on their way out of town. But they were finally able to rest now, finding a clearing in a nearby woods and setting up a campfire.

The rest of their lot was asleep by the fire as Dorian and Dariax took watch, sitting on the edge of Gilmore’s cart and looking up at the stars as they held hands. A breeze blew by that made Dorian shiver, and Dariax reached back to put his cloak over Dorian.

Dorian smiled, “Thank you, Darling,” he pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders. Dariax watched Dorian consider it for a moment before asking, “How,, does this work, exactly?”

“The cloak? I just swirl it around, think of what I wanna look like, and it does it,” Dariax replied easily.

Dorian nodded, “…How much of you does it actually alter?”

Dariax shrugged, “As much of me as I want it to.”

Dorian thought for a moment, “Earlier when you were Tharla-“ Dariax grinned at that, “your outfit was rather revealing, so it showed much of your body-“

“Don’t think I didn’t catch a certain air genasi gettin’ a good look at me,” Dariax spoke with vocal fry, “I could tell even with all my twirling that you couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?”

Dorian rolled his eyes with a slight smile, “The sight was wonderful but the voice was horrible,” he cringed as Dariax laughed, “Regardless, one thing I noticed during your performance was that, certain aspects of your body were,, rather different.”

“Yeah, I can change my appearance as far as like, what race, what height, what sex… and it all interacts with the world around like the clothes do, It’s pretty cool!”

Dorian nods, “I see, does- when it interacts with the world.. how,, much do you feel?”

Dariax gave him a look of confusion, “Pretty much everything, why do you ask?”

Dorian swallowed, “You mentioned it can change your biological sex… would that mean?”

“Yeah, I had a vagina,” Dorian eyes went wide at that, blushing and staring intently at the ground, “When I transform into a woman- or, someone who I assume has a vagina, I change everything down there just so no one gets suspicious or whatever. But it functions and all! I’ve had a few dicks in there before.”

Dorian chokes out, “At the same time???”

Dariax thinks for a moment, counting on his fingers and mumbling half-forgotten names to himself, “I’ve had two at once maybe like, 4 times. I’ve met some people that had two dicks. One of them had three dicks but I just couldn’t take the third in the front, so I had that one in my ass instead.”

Dorian’s face was a deep blue, but he shook off his blush and asked, “How much changes anatomically? There’s no risk of…” he trailed off before Dariax gave him a confused look “like, getting pregnant or anything?”

Dariax made a sour face, “Nah, I mean, I know magic like that is possible but that’s like, Super high level. I’m still a dude with a penis at the end of the day, so things don’t change completely. Like, if someone had a fever and I transformed into them, I wouldn’t get their fever. Ya’know?”

Dorian nodded, “Right, that makes sense… um, would you… be interested in,, trying something with me? Sexually, that is?”

That got Dariax’s attention, he leaned in, “What kinda thing sexually?”

“Um, well, I like vaginas as well as penises, and- I love your dick! Don’t get me wrong, it’s wonderful!-“

“Oh I know,” Dariax gave a dopey grin.

“-But,, well, variety is the spice of life as they say-“

“I thought that was Suude?”

“No, Dariax, that’s drugs.”

“Oh, well anyway, I think I get what you mean,” Dariax leaned close to Dorian’s ear before sensually whispering with vocal fry, “would you like Tharla Starr to give you a private performance?”

Dorian playfully shoved Dariax away, who laughed before moving back to his snuggling position.

“I was actually hoping the illusion could be a bit closer to you, if possible,” Dorian admitted.

“Really?” Dariax was touched, he’d seen so many fall for Tharla, he only got as much attention as he did because he was her, so to know that Dorian still wanted him made him feel so treasured.

“Of course, Tharla was beautiful, but the reason I found her as attractive as I did was because I knew it was you underneath all that.”

Dariax blushed, “D’awww,” he moved to give Dorian a sweet kiss, “you’re sweet, and I’d be more than happy to transform and alter some things for you, if you’d like,” he grinned.

“But, do you feel anything when you transform? Does it feel good?” Dorian seemed hesitant.

“Oh yeah” Dariax moaned, his mind supplying a million memories at once, “I’ve been fucked a few times like that. It feels,, Absolutely incredible. And I’d love to try it with you if you’d like,” he walked his fingers along Dorian’s thighs, making Dorian shiver.

“I would love to Dariax,” was all he was able to reply.

“Great,” he looked around, “wanna do it while the others are still asleep or?”

Dorian huffed out a laugh, “As much as I’d love to right now, I don’t think we could get away with it, I know how loud you moan.”

“I only moan that loud cause you feel so good, and my moans are nothing compared to how I make you scream,” Dariax teased, tracing patterns with his finger’s in Dorian’s thigh.

Dorian blushed, mumbling “Well I only scream that loud cause you feel so good…”

“Aww,” Dariax pressed a kiss to Dorian’s cheek, “Well, we got the cart if you wanna do anything.”

Dorian looked at him, then to the group, then to the cart, gesturing with his eyes to point out the small distance, “I thought we just went over this, they would Absolutely hear us in the cart, Dariax,” he gave an amused smile nonetheless.

“It’s soundproof though-“

“What?”

“Earlier when we were trying to talk to the others outside, it was Real hard to hear them. I’m pretty sure its magically enchanted or something.”

From what little they knew of Gilmore, that seemed to track for the kind of man he was. But Dorian still seemed hesitant, “Are you sure?”

Dariax, “Oh for sure, I would love to have you inside me in a new way!”

Dorian blushed, “Alright then, as long as you’ll enjoy it as much as I will.”

Dariax nodded, “Believe me, I will… you want me to add the boobs too?”

Dorian didn’t make eye contact with Dariax, but nodded, staring firmly at the ground.

Dariax grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek before standing and transforming into… himself. For a moment it looked like it hadn’t worked before Dariax felt his breasts sagging his shirt down. He looked up at Dorian to see him staring and swallowing thickly.

Dorian smiled, squeezing his boobs a bit and giggling, “they’re nice and squishy,” he moved to sit on a flustered Dorian’s lap and hang his arms around his neck as Dorian’s arms secured around his waist.

Dariax leaned close to Dorian’s ear and whispered (with vocal fry again) “I can’t wait to have you inside me~” punctuating the sentence with an exaggerated moan.

Dorian took the opportunity of Dariax’s underarms being exposed to tickle him. He moved his elbows down and giggled as Dorian smiled fondly and teased him, keeping one arm firm around his waist, making sure he didn’t fall off his lap and onto the ground in their game.

They heard someone stirring and stopped, watching to see Opal turn over in her sleep.

“…we should probably get into the cart before continuing any further,” Dorian suggested.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Dariax moved to secure the opening of the fabric hood over the cart as Dorian moved further in. Though most carts at Gilmore’s were used for transport of magical goods, this one seemed to be for luxurious travel. The inside was ornately decorated with plush rugs and comfortable throw pillows, all decorated in a variety of golds and purples. They weren’t particularly comfortable, but they were firm, and it allowed Dorian to sit up comfortably as Dariax moved to sit on his lap again.

Dariax smiled deviously down at Dorian as he rolled his hips against the bulge in his pants and Dorian moaned. He moved to nose and mouth at Dariax’s boobs through the layer of fabric before he took the ties keeping the shirt up between his teeth and tugged slowly, Dariax felt his breath hitch in his chest as Dorian looked at him with desire as his boobs jiggled free of their constraints.

Dorian took a moment to caress Dariax’s chest, running his hands over the soft, smooth skin- still hairy, he was a dwarf after all- and he held and squeezed and felt the weight of them in his hands. Dariax hadn’t made them comically large, they were proportionate to the rest of his body, a bit on the larger side, but proportionate. They were big enough for Dorian to grip and squeeze and oh- now he was sucking on his nipple... Oh this felt really good.

Dariax moaned out and rolled his hips against Dorian’s again, making the boob not in Dorian’s mouth bounce as he moved. Dorian groaned out at that and brought his hand up to begin pinching and squeezing at his nipples Dariax let out a whine and squeezed Dorian’s hips with his thighs, he moved his hands to rest on his shoulders to keep him steady as Dorian teased both nipples with his fingers, now moving to leave love bites and hickies all over the expanse of Dariax’s chest. Who knows if they’d stay there tomorrow, if Dariax had a say- he’d make them stay there forever.

Dorian continued leaving marks and bites over Dariax’s chest until he sucked particularly hard on one of Dariax’s nipples and caused Dariax to nearly double over in pleasure. This brought his boobs to press against Dorian’s face before he felt warmth spread against the spot he’d been grinding on- only it wasn’t from him.

“Babe,, did you just come from my boobs being squished in your face?” He tried to hold back the amusement in his voice.

“They’re really nice, okay!” was the only reply he got as Dorian hid his face in them.

Dariax laughed at that, moving to cup Dorian’s face to bring him in for a kiss, “I’ll have to bring them out more often then,, do you wanna keep going or-?”

“I think I’ll need a bit to recover, but you haven’t come yet, no?”

Dariax shook his head, “Nah.”

“Well, that’s simply a crime!” Dorian declared, He moved to grip Dariax’s ass and hold him against his chest as he kissed him and flipped them so Dariax was sprawled out against the plush carpets of the cart.

Dariax caught his breath as Dorian tossed off his shirt, “Well that’s a crime we really don’t wanna commit, now do we?”

Dorian chuckled, “we certainly don’t, I’d much rather eat you out so I can fuck you properly later,” he smirked.

Dariax arched an eyebrow as he tossed his own shirt aside, “I think you mean so I can ride you later,” he teased.

Dorian rolled his eyes fondly, “Regardless, may I eat you out, or no?”

Dariax chuckled, “Absolutely,” he gestured towards his crotch, “dinner is served, eat up!”

Dorian cringed at the words, making Dariax laugh again before he moved to pull his pants down slowly. Dariax saw Dorian’s eyes go wide as he gasped, finally getting to see what sat between his legs. Dorian licked his lips hungrily and looked up at Dariax with desire.

“Alright now, don’t come twice already,” Dariax teased.

“You’re joking but-“ Dorian responded before forgetting his sentence, moving down in awe to lick a stripe between Dariax’s folds. He shivered in response. It was barely any stimulation yet, but it felt so good. He was wet already, providing great lubrication for Dorian’s tongue as he licked up the salty substance and buried his nose in Dariax’s curls, searching around with his tongue.

Dariax gasped and bit down on his lip, letting out a moan as Dorian found his clit and began sucking softly, “Fuuuuuuck, that feels really really good please do more of that, yeah.”

Dorian hummed against Dariax and he bit back a whine at how good it felt, Dorian moved lower on Dariax but quickly replaced his tongue with his thumb on Dariax’s clit. Dorian moved to stick his tongue deep inside Dariax, moaning out into the wet heat of the dwarf. Dariax let out a soft whisper of Dorian’s name as he felt himself being explored by the gentle ministrations of his lover’s tongue.

He felt Dorian fuck his tongue in and out of Dariax as he frantically moved his hands down to grip on Dorian’s hair. Dariax felt himself puff up slightly against Dorian’s face and he felt like he was on pins and needles in the best way possible. Dorian removed his tongue and Dariax was about to complain before he moved to suck on Dariax’s clit again, and oh Changebringer, that felt good. Dariax curled his toes as came with a soft whimper of “fuck!”

He saw stars, and when he came back down he could feel Dorian cleaning up what had spilled out with his tongue, sucking on his folds gently before Dariax used the hand still in Dorian’s hair to tug him up for a deep kiss. Dorian returned the kiss gladly as Dariax wrapped his legs around Dorian’s waist, pulling him down even further.

Dariax made a scrunched up face, “I’m cold,” he frowned.

Dorian chuckled, “me too,”

Dorian moved to sit up against the mountain of pillows and Dariax followed, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over them both before snuggling up to Dorian’s chest, “fuck me- that felt incredible!” he sighed.

Dorian chuckled, “In a bit when I can get it up again, darling.”

Dariax snickered, “Well I’m excited for that but- man,, I don’t know why I’ve never tried that before.. that was great!”

Dorian looked at him, “You’ve never been eaten out before?”

“Not like that nah, I’ve had my ass eaten a few times, but not my vagina.”

Dorian looked at Dariax in amazement, “Have I been your first for something? You, Dariax, the ever-experienced in the world of sexuality?” he was half joking, Dariax could tell he was proud to be Dariax’s first experience with something knew.

“Well, you’re not just my first for that,” Dariax chuckled.

“Oh?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

Dariax fiddled with his fingers, “You’re my first love…” he felt Dorian still beside him, “I love you, Dorian.”

“I- I love you too, Dariax, so much,” Dorian’s hands moved to cup Dariax’s face and bring him close for a sweet kiss. Dariax kissed back and wrapped his arms around Dorian’s neck, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he moved to sit on Dorian’s lap.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Dariax’s back and held him close as he kissed him sweetly and tenderly, running a hand through his hair to tilt them to a better angle. Dariax moaned out into the kiss, but as he felt tears on Dorian’s face, he pulled away slowly, “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Dorian sniffled, “I’m just- I love you so much Dariax, I’m happy to have the feeling returned,” he pulled Dariax in for another kiss he poured all his love into, and Dariax did the same. For a moment they weren’t worried about what would come next, they weren’t worried about Dariax’s transformation fading before they could be intimate again, as long as they were there, holding each other in their arms and knowing they were loved, they would be content forever.

Their sweet loving kiss eventually turned desperate and feverish as hands roamed and gripped flesh as their mouths travelled to leave love marks on their necks and chins and shoulders. By the time they were panting desperately, taking a breath against each other’s lips, Dorian was fully hard again, he looked at Dariax with lustful eyes, “Dariax, do you-?”

Before Dorian could finish his sentence, Dariax nodded and lined himself up with Dorian before sinking down, moaning out as he was filled. Dorian panted, hiding his face in the crook of Dariax’s shoulder and neck, sucking a mark there as Dariax began slowly moving up and down on Dorian’s cock.

Dariax was decently endowed naturally, and since he didn’t have a gag reflex, he usually didn’t think about Dorian’s size when sucking him off. Though Dariax usually topped, he’d ridden Dorian before, though certainly not like this. He hadn’t realized the air genasi was so big he wasn’t as thick as Dariax was, but he was long, and right now as Dariax rolled his hips against Dorian, it was hitting all the best places.

“Mmmm, fuck yes. Feels so good,” he moaned out as Dorian whimpered and moved to suck on Dariax’s breasts further. Dariax gently pushed on Dorian’s shoulders and he looked up, making sure all was ok.

“I love when you suck on my tits, but right now I think you’ll enjoy things more if you just sit back on that cute little butt of yours and watch, yeah?” Dariax purred.

Dorian flushed and nodded, “mhm, absolutely.”

Dorian might have requested Dariax instead of Tharla, but Dariax was gonna give him a good show either way.

Dariax stretched his arms behind his head, putting his breasts on a prominent display as he rolled his hips against Dorian’s, noticing the way Dorian fisted his hands in the blankets below, trying not to touch, and Dariax smirked at that.

He rose his thighs to pull himself off before sinking down again and moaning out, he did this a few more times in rapid succession, moving so the head of Dorian’s cock rubbed against his G spot wonderfully. Dariax moaned out as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, he gripped his hands on Dorian’s shoulders as he continued his rapid pace, moving up and down and angling so he was hitting the spot more forcefully as he made a desperate noise and bit his lip.

Dorian was singing beautiful moans beneath him, “Fuck, Darling,, you look so beautiful,, I love seeing you like this, enjoying yourself and feeling good. Watching you chase your own pleasure is the loveliest sight in all of Exandria.” He bit his lip, still fighting to keep his hands off Dariax.

Dariax blushed at that, “Y-you’re so pretty, Dorian, I love when you turn blue and bite your lip like that, it’s really sexy…” Dariax wasn’t as good with words as Dorian was, but he trusted understood the sentiment regardless.

Dariax went back to rolling his hips against Dorian, “Fuck, babe, you can move now, I need you to use your hips some-“

Dorian quickly obliged, moving to take Dariax’s nipple into his mouth and grip his other breast as he brought his knees up to buck up into Dariax. Dariax moaned out at the change in angle, feeling Dorian’s hips slam into him and hit that spot over and over again. His mouth hung open with silent gasps as he felt his brain rocketing to the moon.

Dorian moved a hand down to grip his ass tightly and that’s what sent him over the edge, he shouted, “DORIAN!” as he came and clenched around his length. Dorian whimpered into Dariax’s chest as he came, filling Dariax even further and making him slump forward against Dorian’s face, smothering him in his boobs yet again.

They heard the fabric of the cart entrance being opened as a very grumpy halfling stomped into the room, “What on Exandria are you two doing?? Don’t you know how late it is???” Orym stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene before him, not-so-subtly checking out Dariax’s butt.

“I thought you said the cart was soundproof!” Dorian frantically whisper-yelled at Dariax.

“I thought it was!” Dariax insisted.

“Why would it be soundproof? It’s just a fabric cart- …why does Dariax have a vagina now?”

Dorian and Dariax looked at each other, blushing furiously, they had a lot of explaining to do.

A/N: I hc that Dariax sleeps naked sometimes so Orym would know that Dariax has a penis, which is cause for legitimate confusion when he sees him without one, he wasn't being weirdly transphobic or anything. Also, Opal and Fearne went off to go fuck in the woods when they woke up to Dorian and Dariax's sex noises.

[bennydwight]

Dragon Age Oneshot

Shameless, indulgent, one-sided Varric/Inquisitor, because I understand why we’re not allowed to romance the dwarf, but that’s not gonna stop me from being bitter about it.

(Also feat. Dorian being simultaneously the best and worst wingman)

 ~~~~~~

"Oh dear what's got the Inquisitor so long in the face this time?"

Lavellan hid her startle well enough that Dorian didn't comment. Maker's breath, he could be stealthy when he wanted to. Observant, too, so she didn’t see much point in lying to him. "I'm in love, Dorian."

She felt more than saw his interest pique, and he slid down the stone wall to join her on the steps. Below them, the courtyard was abuzz with activity: Dennet and his apprentice busied themselves with checking the new stock of mounts, the merchants from Val Royeaux shifted primly as Fereldan soldiers examined their wares, and patients of the last battle milled around the surgeons camp. Among them, even from this height, Lavellan could see Cole's wide-brimmed hat bobbing along through the crowd of wounded like a leaf on a river, likely offering comfort to those who needed it. Varric's copper hair trailed along beside, either gathering intelligence for his next book, or ensuring Cole stayed within the confines of human morality. Nice that those two got along so well.

Far below, a soldier said something and Varric laughed, the delighted rasp floating up to reach even Lavellan's perch. Why must he do that to her.

"In love, you say?" Dorian continued next to her. "Anyone I would know?"

Lavellan sighed. "He's roguishly charming, dashingly handsome, entirely uninterested, and so far out of my league he may as well be the Black Divine."

"Dear me, have you fallen in love with me all over again? Can't say I'm not flattered, though I recall us having this conversation once before."

That drew a laugh from the depths of her lovesickness and she nudged Dorian with a shoulder. "You know the flame I hold for you in my heart will never extinguish."

"Alas, perhaps in another life." He chuckled back.  "Who's the fortunate gentleman?"

"Oh please, if you think I'll out and tell you like some babbling maid chasing the butcher's son, I give you too much credit."

He leaned back, stroking his goatee with an interested finger. "Making a game out of it then? Very well, I'll play along. Ten silver says I can guess the lad in three tries."

A game was exactly what Lavellan didn’t want, but she far too much enjoyed Dorian's scowl when he lost not to play.  The ten silver could buy her something interesting from the baker too, next time they travelled to Val Royeaux. "You'll be paying for my next pastry run, Vint."

"Better save at least some of that silver for larger clothing then." He made a show of tapping his chin, deep, deep in thought, the flash bastard. "Roguishly charming, daringly handsome... Just to clarify, you are talking about a lad, yes?"

"Oh, no. Making that distinction would narrow the field by far too much. If you weren't paying attention to the pronouns, that's on you."

Dorian glowered at her, but there was no real heat behind it while the gears of his mind were ticking elsewhere. "From the description alone, of course my first guess would have to be our distinguished commander? Not that I'd blame you, mind, he is quite the man."

Perhaps too much man for Lavellan, the commander was far too battle-ready for her to find attractive (though admittedly the scars did send something stirring within her). And Cullen's evasive reactions towards the advances of other members of the fairer gender betrayed a disposition more boyish than Lavellan expected. She imagined courting Cullen would be very much like courting the spirit of a farm boy in the body of a marble statue. "I flirted with him once, for fun. I was afraid he'd wet himself."

Dorian's laughter rang warm and clear through the courtyard. "That might explain why you couldn't tell him, the poor man would throw himself off the battlements."

Lavellan stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't make it sound like my affections are a disease to be feared."

"They certainly spread that way."

"You enjoy it, you all do. Maker knows none of you under my command have ever gotten enough hugs in your lifetimes."

"Something we all know you're desperately trying to correct."

"This game is timed, Dorian, if you don't use your guesses in the next ten seconds then you forfeit."

"Don't be silly, that was never agreed upon," he waved a hand flippantly, but settled again. "Sera-"

"Nope."

"That wasn't a guess, you didn't let me finish! I was going to say Sera is in league all her own, so it can't be her."

"It counts."

"It doesn’t. "

Lavellan never was very good at keeping a straight face, especially in Dorian's presence. "Fine, fine, you get one freebie."

"Then my next guess would have to be the Iron Bull."

Oh, she'd thought about it. Maybe Lavellan was just weak for big hands and a soft voice. And who could forget those muscles? But Iron Bull wasn't exactly secretive about his thoughts on relationships, thoughts Lavellan wasn't sure she could share in the long run. And maybe it would have been different if Iron Bull committed to the Inquisitor, but after an accidental (and awkward) run in with Bull and a kitchen maid, Lavellan was pretty certain she'd seen all she needed to regarding Skyhold's resident Ben-Hassarath.

Besides. She'd seen the silky way Dorian's eyes smoothed over Iron Bull's shoulders when his back was turned. There had never been two people she was less inclined to come between.

She shot Dorian a sly side-eye. "I'll leave the lovesickness to other, more suitable people when it comes to the Bull, I think."

He hid the hitch in his shoulders almost perfectly, but the pink dusting on his cheekbones was a little harder to explain away. To his credit, Dorian didn't try. "Ahem. Well, you mentioned 'uninterested', so it can't be the swooning--"

He trailed off, but Lavellan's sharp stare snapped to him, ears twitching up. "The what?"

"Nothing, a slip of the tongue."

"Your tongue is so slippery it's a wonder it doesn't slither out of your head. Now out with it, who were you talking about?"

Dorian heaved a mighty sigh, but his eyes shone in that way they did when he'd been sitting on a sweet bit of gossip for too long. "Very well, I promised Vivienne I wouldn’t say anything since you didn't need 'undue distractions', but since you insisted. One of your throne guards can't keep his eyes away from you."

This was news to her. "Wha- Are you talking about Davrish or Johannes? Or Tel, he fills in sometimes."

"The lad who usually stands at your left. Human, on the tall side, dark hair. Hard to see much under the helmet, but he's got a scar under his eye."

Davrish then. "He fancies me?"

Dorian laughed. "Like Solas fancies the Fade. He reveres you. Whenever you're in the Main Hall, he refuses to look anywhere else. He practically vibrates when you're judging someone, I imagine since he's never had a woman that close to him in his life. Have you truly not noticed?"

She truly hadn't. She'd spoken to Davrish several times around Skyhold, usually a casual bit of snark tossed around regarding the latest judgement, but never had she gotten the impression that he was interested. Perhaps since, whenever she frequented the Main Hall, her attention lingered elsewhere... "I suppose I'm usually distracted."

Dorian leaned closer, something wicked crawling into his grin like a desert lizard. "Distracted, are you?"

Lavellan huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as if that could still her heart's rapid beat. "I'm the Inquisitor, Dorian, not all of us can lounge in the library all day, drinking cheap ale and commenting on whatever daily atrocity Solas is wearing."

"Oh, that reminds me, did you see the particularly awful armour he picked up during your last trip to the Oasis? I could go on for days about the state of the stitching alone-"

He definitely could, as proven time and again. Times like these, where her Tevinter friend really got on a roll, Lavellan could feign interest well enough while letting her mind wander to more introspective topics. She nodded and made appropriate noises at appropriate times to Dorian's impassioned ramblings, but once again her eyes sought the copper head weaving in and out of view of the crowd below.

As if sensing her seeking eyes, Varric pulled his attention away from Cole and stared straight at her.

Lavellan's heart stuttered to a stop. Even this far away, his eyes shone with the barely concealed mirth he always seemed to carry just under the crooked quirk of his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth pulled up in that roguish smile she loved as they made eye contact, and one hand (gloved, why always gloved) rose in a lazy wave.

Like a dunderhead, Lavellan practically tripped over herself to return the gesture, nearly catching her finger in one of the buckles of her clothes in the process. Varric didn't seem to notice, his smile widening before he turned back to his odd little charge.

Too late, Lavellan noticed Dorian had fallen silent beside her, his calculating golden eyes boring into her frozen face. She heard the dots connect.

"Oh."

Don’t make eye contact, don't make eye contact

"Oh, MAKER."

Lavellan spun on him, the tips of her ears burning under his scrutiny. "WHAT."

He stared back, expression refreshingly open for once, though it bore no malice. Only stunned disbelief. "Lavellan, the dwarf?"

Not trusting herself to speak around the dry lump lodged in her throat, Lavellan reached into her pocket and dropped ten silver into Dorian's unresponsive hand.

He stared at the coins as if in shock, though Lavellan knew him well enough by now to know when he was exaggerating emotion. Dorian and Sarcasm were old friends. "I can’t- Vishante kaffas."

"I know."

"Of all the available young matches here in Skyhold, you're wasting your time making doe-eyes at the single most ineligible person this side of the Anderfels."

"I know.”

"He's in love with a crossbow, for Maker's sake!"

"I KNOW!" Lavellan groaned, burying her head in her hands. "If you think I haven’t had this discussion with myself numerous times then you are sorely mistaken."

A beat of silence. "Although," Dorian started in such an oddly contemplative tone that Lavellan peeked out from between her fingers. The silver was gone, tucked away while she'd been marinating in her own self-horror, and his hand returned to its previous action of thoughtfully stroking his facial hair. "He is quite the strapping one." His face took on a haughty air. "And we already knew you had a penchant towards the witty."

"Not only wit," Lavellan sighed, and now that her darkest thoughts hovered at the forefront of her tongue, she found it nigh impossible to stop them from stumbling into the light of day. "He's suave, confident in a way that still eludes Cullen. He has all the easy, rugged attractiveness of the Iron Bull with none of his-"

"Expansive tastes?" Dorian supplied, entirely unhelpfully.

"-worldliness." Lavellan corrected coolly.

"He's quite the complainer. "

"He's opinionated, and most of them are right. Varric is warmth, and friendship, and a drop of sunlight in the midst of the rainstorm that is the Breach."

"I may vomit."

"I am taking that as a challenge. He is soft eyes and soft leather, and the feeling you get right after you make someone laugh. He's quiet nights by the fireside, the smell of ink swirling in the warmed air. He is-"

"-headed this way."

Lavellan was just about to admonish Dorian for his unsportsmanlike attempt to distract her from her flowering prose (it had really started to flow there, too!), but a glance downward found Cole nowhere to be seen, and instead one copper-headed dwarf tromping up the stairs.

All thoughts of poetry dissipated. He was coming straight for them! "Oh... oh Maker-"

"Don't panic," Dorian smirked, "with a nose that large, he can probably smell your nerves."

She didn’t have the chance to smack him before Varric reached them, breath laboured in the way that often happened when short legs were presented with more than five steps. Lavellan wondered why Varric chose to spend the majority of his days in the Grand Hall when it required so many steps to get there (and she refused to let herself believe it was because he wanted to be near her, no no). "Well, you two are looking chummy."

"Varric!" Dorian opened with no shortness of theatrics, "We were just talking about you!"

"Is that right?" Lavellan heard more than saw Varric's raised eyebrow as she pinned Dorian under a glare so hot it had been known to stop enemies in their tracks.

Dorian, having evolved out of the category of "enemy" some time ago, barely noticed. "Yes, we were just discussing your romance serial, the one Cassandra enjoys so much? Are you planning on writing more?"

Lavellan’s glare had taken on a panicked note, her friend going rogue before her eyes. How hard did one have to stare at another for them to spontaneously combust?

Varric, large as his nose was, didn’t seem to smell her distress this time. He laughed. "I am if Seeker has anything to say about it! Why, you're a fan too? Learning anything interesting?"

"On the contrary, I have an idea for another serial I'm sure readers would enjoy."

Lavellan’s shoulders relaxed marginally, head tilting at a quizzical angle. What was he doing...

"I don't usually entertain book pitches, but for you Sparkler? Let's hear it."

"It's about a famous, powerful young artist, who falls in love with a roguishly charming, dashingly handsome writer-"

Aaaaand there went her shoulders again, hitched almost to her burning ears. Back safely to Varric, she frantically mouthed "I'll KILL you, you sunnuvabitch", the rest of Dorian's blatantly obvious pitch drowning under the blood pumping in her ears. His mouth quirked up in the only indication he was paying her any mind at all.

Varric made a thoughtful noise, and she didn't dare turn round to look at him. "An artist and a writer, huh? It's got potential. And no one can say it's... unrealistic." Maker's breath, was he implying something? Was that tone barely concealed subtext, or just Varric being an asshole?

And Dorian couldn't leave it at that, oh no, never let it be said that Dorian Pavus did things halfway. "And say, if you do decide to write it, I'm sure our dear inquisitor wouldn’t mind illustrating. Surely you two have known each other long enough that working closely for prolonged periods of time wouldn’t be too agonizing."

Using her body as a shield, Lavellan flipped him off.

"It's certainly something to consider," Varric hummed, none the wiser to Lavellan's mortification. Unless... he was playing with her? "I'm sure my lady readers would appreciate another romance."

Dorian stared straight into Lavellan's eyes. "They certainly would."

"What about it, Herald?" Oh Maker, he was leaning over her now. The scent of warm leather drifted over her like the sweetest perfume-- NO, that was gross! Don’t think like that! "Feel like collaborating?"

"Sure," her voice came out more like a squeak than a sound, and Dorian couldn't quite hide his snort behind his moustache.

The creak of leather as Varric leaned back. "Peachy. After we take care of this Corypheus business, of course, even I understand that we have priorities. Speaking of, I gotta ask Seeker something. Dorian."

Dorian nodded in farewell, radiating smugness. Expecting her turn to be next and realizing at the same time that she hadn't looked at Varric a single time during this conversation, Lavellan finally turned to the dwarf.

Bad idea. She turned directly into that insufferable crooked grin. His hooded eyes glittered with mischief, like he was privy to an in-joke. The sun set behind him, haloing his visage with golden light. Varric himself couldn't have written this scene better, and Lavellan hated herself for thinking it. Her ears drooped under the weakness of her own body.

Varric's grin widened marginally. "Inquisitor."

"Bye," Lavellan breathed more than said. Dorian snorted again, louder, but Varric was polite enough not to mention it. He continued up the stairs and Lavellan managed until his heavy bootsteps faded away to melt into a humiliated puddle. She slumped over her legs, burying her face in her hands.

"Dear me, Inquisitor, your ears are a most delightful shade of crimson."

"Dorian?"

"Yes?"

"Once I can stand again, I am going to take my knife and cut out your tongue."

"Oh, I'd still find ways to humiliate you."

"I wont even use my nice knife. It'll be a kitchen knife. You'll suffer for days, just like I am now."

He patted her jovially on the shoulder. "Come now, Lavellan, surely you must know that Varric is crass and boorish, but he's far from an idiot. He'll nip this in the bud within the week and I need to get a decent amount of teasing in before then."

Lavellan punched him in the arm.

 END

[capricious-and-melodramatic]

“A kiss…out of necessity” for Dorian x inky, maybe mouth to mouth or a fairytale AU or something?!

Fairy Tale AU where Dorian is a Prince getting out of ever arranged marriage his family throws at him and Arn is trapped

Three days ago, an old hooded woman did something so cliché and to be frank, so stupid that Dorian wasn’t sure if she was joking or it was an elaborate plot by another family to kill him and take his position.   Dorian wouldn’t have bothered with the damn thing if he wasn’t positive it was trying to speak to him. He had asked Maevaris to look over it, he had to be going mad. She said she was, as ever as supportive of him. Dorian was sure of it though. It was late at night it would speak, like it was afraid?

It was 3 days of no sleep and Dorian was 5 minutes away from losing his mind.  

“Then get rid of it.” Maevaris told him, “Real or not, you look awful.” she teased.  

Dorian pulled a disgusted look on his face, rolling his eyes to drive the point home. Of cause he needed to sleep, there was some ball on tomorrow and with everything going on, he was about to pressed onto some poor girl to help strengthen some political ties to some distant noble. He wasn’t about to lose his wits. He’s staved off enough potential brides, he can’t lose it now. He was so close to making so many people very, very angry.

“Fine” He huffed.  

He went back to his room, grabbing the little box to throw it out. He heard a voice. “HEY!” screamed a small voice from inside the box. “What’s happening?!”

“That’s it, I’ve gone mad.” Dorian mumbled

“I hope not! I need some help.”

Dorian stopped. It was the first time the voice had said something so clearly. He pulled the box up close.  

“Woah, easy there! I might be little, but I’m also apparently delicate?” The voice was questioning itself. “I don’t like being this small.”  

“Are you real?” Dorian asked. Not sure if what he was hearing was real.

“Apparently? I’ve been stuck in here for 3 days, it pretty damn dark. Not to mention I’m hungry and thirsty as hell.”  

Dorian had never had someone talk to frankly near him before, it was refreshing, and hilarious. He let out a chuckle and began to fiddle with the box.

“Any change you know how to open this... contraption my small friend?” Dorian asked.  

“No idea. But if you decided to smash it with something heavy, please be aware I’m in here and I don’t feel like dying just yet. Not until I see you, that is...” He tiny voice muttered.  

“What was that?” Dorian asked, fully able to hear him now “See me?”

“Well!” The voice was panicking a little, as if for once it didn’t want to be heard. “You sound very pretty, I hope you look as pretty as you sound.”  

“I assure you my tiny friend, I am as pretty as I look. And just as smart.”  

There were no visible buttons, just an intricate design that looked somewhat familiar. He had seen them in tomes, the ones he used to study as a child.

“You are in luck my very small friend; I think I’ve figured it out.” He put the box down and went to his shelf, pull out a tome. And right where it should be was the same box and spell to open it. Child’s first magic lock spell, apparently. With a quick snap of his fingers, the box opened and the lid popped off. “Simple really.”

There was a tiny sigh of relief that came from the box, there was a small blue frog, He’d never quiet seen anything like it. Dorian couldn’t help but stare at the tiny frog. It looked up at him. “I’m not usually this small.” It muttered.  

“Let me guess, you got cursed?” Dorian stifled a laugh.  

“Yes, apparently I looked weird so the bog witch turned me into this so she didn’t have to look at me anymore?” The angry squeaks didn’t help. Dorian tried his damned not to laugh.  

“How did you stumble onto a bog witch?”

“I fell down a chasm!” It’s hands where squarely placed on its hips. Tiny disgusted look on its face was too cute. “I swear it wasn’t there before? Bog witches!”

It began to hop about, stretching its legs. “Now look at me, tiny, weaponless and stuck here with...” There was silence. “I didn’t know you’d look that pretty.” it muttered.  

“See, a wonderful combo. You’re rather cute yourself.”

“I don’t think you’d be saying that if I was my usual self. People usually run away from me. Or call me horrible things.” The frogged jumped over to the end of the dresser, “Mind taking me to the water please, if you don’t mind?”  

Dorian nodded and let the little frog jump on his hand, taking it over to the jug he had. “Did you need me to poor some out?” He asked

“No thanks, I got these sticky little feet.” The frogs' gestures were so human like, point to its large feet then jumping (quiet awkwardly) up the jug.

“You know I can't drink out of that once you jump in.”

The frog stopped, starting to slide down the side, “Oh, right, sorry.”

“It’s fine, have this instead.” Dorian grabbed a small dish and filled it with water, taking it over to the frog. It jumped in. “Do you have a name my tiny friend, or shall I refer to you as the tiny frog in my dish?”  

The frog had submerged itself fully in the water and let out a tiny stream of bubbles, lifting its head out of the water, it looked to Dorian. “Arn. ” He smiled.  

“Just Arn, or is it short for something?” Dorian asked, pulling up a chair close to Arn, who was now swimming around the dish.  

“People have a hard time with my full name, Khaaran’as is my full name. Arn is easier for everyone though.”  

“It’s a rather lovely name.” I’m flirting with a frog? Lovely, I am tired. Dorian thought to himself.  

Arn sunk into the water a little more, trying to hide himself. “Thank you.” He said, muffled by water. He looked to the window outside. There was a full moon out. He jumped out of the water to hop quickly over to Dorian.  

“Dorian, I know we’ve just met, and I’m a frog right now. And frankly, kinda ugly.”

“Nonsense, you’re rather cute.”  

“Not usually. I need to ask you a favor. Anything you want. But I need you to kiss me right here, right now!”  

“What? Why--?”

“I can turn into me and be back to normal! I know you’ve just rescued me and frankly it’s a lot to ask, but the bog witch was being rather cliché about this spell and she said something about kissing under the moon light!” Arn became quite panicked. What did Dorian have to lose? If this was all a dream, he can be scared for life in the morning, if it was real... well.

“I promise you everything in the world, I just need to be me again!”  

Dorian shrugged, he already had whatever he wanted, but he did want out of this life. Maybe this man could do that for him. He bent down to kiss the frog, his tiny hands grabbed his face. There was a bright light. Suddenly Dorian could feel two very large hands on his face. He opened his eyes to see himself face to face with a large, and very blue, Qunari.  

“Venhedis!” Dorian shouted, jumping back.  

The Qunari looked at his hands and patted himself down. He was all there. What luck. “Thank you!” He hugged Dorian tightly. “I’ve been stuck like this for weeks. If it wasn’t in a box it was in that bog witches little cage. I am so thankful that you helped me!”  

There was a knock on the door. “You’re majesty? Are you alright?”

Dorian and Arn both looked to the door in shock.  

“Your Mastesty?” Arn whispered. “Shit, you not--?”

“Yes, everything is fine, leave me please.” He raised his voice to look back to Arn. “A prince? Yes.”  

“Shit. Why did I just promise you everything? You have everything?” Arn whispered harshly.  

“Because we are getting out of here, and I need some back up. You’ll be fine.” Dorian wanted out, now he had someone who would have his back. It was about time he finally ran away. “A dashing Prince and his bodyguard, what could go wrong?”  

Arn shrugged.  

“We can grab weapons from the armory, I’ll grab the essentials and we will be on our way.”  

“Nifty.”