#Bostoniangirl21

[ronkeyroo]

Stupid prompt idea: au where vilkas uses eyeglasses when he reads. Phd grumpy wolf

(induce serotonin for us going through final tests hell ;_;)

I gotchu fam 📚🤓

[esaari]

I saw someone reblogging your post of Phillip’s art at the College and that made me instantly follow you! 😊

Im adding all of them in my Hot Guy Crush collection and staring at them like this

aww thank you very kindly ❤️ im always very happy when people like my precious children

[juleteon]

@bostoniangirl21 Here’s your assigned Chocobo >:} 

Butter is a young and energetic fella, due to an injured wing he doesn’t glide as well as other chocobos but he makes up for it with his eagerness, affection and speed. Being young and a tad smaller, his swiftness is unmatched - just like his apatite. Will have zoomies, but also loves hugs and kisses on his beak. A loyal companion that will stick by you through fire and ice!

[draconicocelot]

🙊

seriously oct, you should share more of your art, the ideas you bring to the table are *cheffs kiss* 💜

🥹 you are too kind, nani

If I can build up the confidence and beat back the guilt maybe I shall

🙊 Share your latest silly doodle with no context

Well I haven’t been drawing much lately other than making holiday gifts for others when I can, but I can share my most recent art of my Plague Tale oc, Owain Ryner, in his mutated rat-werewolf form (it’s a long story skhdjd, but I love him very much). He is a very grumpy and sassy human who was experimented on after going against orders he was given by the Inquisition who loves his bf Arnaud Malpart very much

[dirty-bosmer]

Wip Wednesday

Missed a couple weeks :') Thank you to @skyrim-forever @elavoria @theoneandonlysemla @lucien-lachance @sylvienerevarine and @bostoniangirl21 for tagging me recently. I've been a bit busy but I'm ready to catch up :)

Tagging you all forward and adding @justafoxhound @thequeenofthewinter @wispstalk @pocket-vvardvark @lady-iizsil @ladytanithia @vivifriend @moriche @oblivions-dawn

Some more weird Mathieu Bellamont angst bc I'm predictable and He. Almost done with the next chapter. Hopefully, I'll have it up next week 🤡

So you disavow what sweetness you cannot strangle from the fruits you grow, and there is little, you admit; so little sun stifles the flavor. The flesh of deceit is pulpy with a ferrous taste on the finish. Envy smacks of bittergreen and the pungent kick of bile. The anger is lean and stringy, and it sticks between your teeth so that you pull fibers from your molars days after the last bite. Consume too much of either, and you find they lose their flavor, returning in the morning to linger, acrid, twice as long. But the grief is your favorite because the grief never betrays you. The grief hits just as hard on the tenth sip as the first, so take your cup of sorrow, down it, let it breathe fresh lifelessness into your cheeks. On the far wall, the mirror flashes a face that looks more like Mother's everyday. Vellum thin. Lips the pale shade of a furrowed scar. Beneath your eyes, islets of bruise in a blue spider web of veins. Your grin splits like a picked scab, and it disgusts you, devastates you, but you have to stare. You have to smile. You have to laugh, or you’ll something else.

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

I've just been trying to plug away at this damned chapter again, but...I think I have it finished. I just need to edit it. (Because my eyes have refused to let me do so as of yet.) Tossing this out into the void. (For context, Elisindir is Elenwen's son and the crew currently has him in the Bloodworks. He came to them.)

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @hircines-hunter @bostoniangirl21 @bougainvillea-and-saltwater

@changelingsandothernonsense @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus @vivifriend @theoneandonlysemla

@inkysqueed @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark and anyone else who would like to participate <3

Galmar’s bleeding hand reaches through the door to grab hold of Elisindir’s tunic as he rips him forward, slamming his body against the bars. “How would you know?”

“Because it is always her. It always has been, and it always will be.”

“Horseshit.”

“Tell me. What did she take from you?”

Galmar roars, tilting Elisindir’s head back and bringing it forward again. Metal rings through the room, and stars dance in his vision, the ferric taste of blood coating his mouth as he shakes his head. More pain, a shower of stars. He swallows and instantly regrets it as his stomach roils when his blood hits the emptiness there. When was the last time he had a decent meal?

“Violence will get you nowhere, Stone-Fist.” Elisindir cautions. “And it doesn’t make you any better than her.”

“Like hell it doesn’t, and fuck if I care anymore.”

“But you should.”

Galmar’s lips twitch, bearing up to show his teeth in a grim smile. “Give me one reason I should not end your miserable existence right now.”

“Because I can help you, and I know things.” Elisindir looks into his eyes unflinching. At one point in time his mother told him to show weakness was to see death. It is perhaps the only useful lesson she ever gave him. “For example, you have a spy here.”

“More lies.” He pulls his head back once more, preparing to hit him again. “I think I would know if—”

“Galmar, stop.” Ulfric suddenly comes into view, followed by Dahlia.

Of all the times that they would choose to come down here of course it would have to be now. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose slowly before letting Elisindir go. The Altmer slumps into a heap on the floor.

“Who is the spy?” Ulfric’s eyes narrow into thin slits as he steps up to the cell. Bravado, pure bravado. If Dahlia or even Galmar knew how much his stomach ached to heave its contents onto the floor, they’d both try to coddle him—or at least Dahlia would. He is already in deeper than he can swim, so what harm can it do for him to drown? At least he will do it standing up and without cowardice. “Speak for I have little patience for traitors and even less for those who would protect them.”

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

It's another Wednesday people, let's see those wips. Tagged by the always incredible @changelingsandothernonsense (seeing Josh always improves my day <3) and I got tagged @bostoniangirl21 for a WIP whenever <3

Tagging: @dirty-bosmer @theoneandonlysemla @lucien-lachance @thequeenofthewinter @captain-of-silvenar @firefly-factory

@pocket-vvardvark @hircines-hunter @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @umbracirrus

Do I have two chapters I should be working on? Yes. Am I working on a silly little Post-Alduin/Pre-Happy Ending self-induglant fic instead? Absolutely :P Under the cut because suggestive, enjoy! 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

“You went swimming often at home, did you?” 

“I did, whenever I was stressed; hence I’ve been in the water every day since returning.” She looks up at him with a soft smile, a memory coming into view. “When I was young I used to tell my father I wanted to grow up and be a mermaid.” He laughs. 

“A mermaid? Well, that’s quite the ambition.” 

“Oh I had a plan and everything, asked Father to find a wizard who could do it. I didn’t know how magic worked at the time so I thought wizards could do anything. And Father had a guy for everything, ergo he had a guy who could turn me into a mermaid.”

“Ah yes, there must be some type of alteration spell that could do that.” He leans down to kiss her, she notes that this is the first kiss he’s initiated this evening. Though appreciated of how gentle he’s being, so very grateful for him; how badly she wants more than just a kiss. “That’s very amusing of you.” He chuckles. “You’re certainly beautiful enough, I’m sure if I saw you out at sea I’d be easily fooled.”

“You would, would you?” An opportunity seems to be arising. “Do you think I could convince you to jump overboard? Plunge yourself into the sea to be with me?” She pulls him down, their lips meeting again. Carefully, she nibbles on the corner which only succeeds in making him break the kiss. 

His pupils are wide, glossy-eyed but he still shows concern. 

“Theodora, are you sure you want this? I am far from against it but I do not want you forcing yourself on my behalf. Last thing I want is to rush, forget myself and hurt you.” 

“I love your concern, Ondolemar; it’s what is making me want to. Knowing you’ll be so tender and slow.” Eyes are lidded for the next sentence. "I have beaten back the World-Eater, no mere mortal can hurt in a way that matters. Certainly not the likes of him." She grabs the front of his tunic. "And besides, I'd have to force myself not to want you, and as we know that is futile effort." The change in expression indicates he gives credence to her answer. 

“Is that so?” Another kiss, deeper and it makes her head spin. Yes. Despite the urge to sit back further, nearly laying down and pulling him on top of her, she doesn’t. He has a question to answer. 

“I believe I asked you a question.” 

“Hmm.” He steals another quick peck. “You did, you wanted to know if I’d throw myself overboard, so captivated by you by you I lose all sense of reason. 

“Yes.” She hums. 

“Well, you’ve bewitched me across the province, tempted me into closets while both of us are surrounded by our superior officers; it would seem I abandoned reason long ago. I think a better question is what I wouldn’t do for you?” He looks off into the distance. “To that which I do not know.” He turns back to her, barely hearing what he says as she’s so distracted by how the fire makes him glow. “So yes, you could probably get me to drown myself if you looked at me the right way.”

Between the warmth of the fire and his equally burning gaze, Theodora feels unbearably hot. Her eyes slowly move from him to the water. The light from Masser and Secunda makes the lake look so inviting, the summer breeze still warm despite the night. If he’d throw himself overboard then perhaps… Taking his hand she goes for it. 

“What are you doing?” Her boots are kicked off and then thrown back towards the fire. 

“I’m testing your claim.” 

“Do not tell me you expect me to get in the water with you, it’s likely teeming with slaughterfish.” She rolls her eyes, giggling.

“I’ll have you know they stay much further east in summer.”  

“Ah, so they are found here.” Hmmm, what was that he said? If I looked at him the right way? 

“If you’re too afraid of being an exotic snack to the creatures of Lake Illinata, you can stay here, love.” Tuning away from him, the stale tunic and brown trousers find their way to the ground. Though she normally forgoed smallclothes when home alone, particularly now as she couldn’t even be bothered with the rest of the world; the choice was proving even more fruitful when she turned back around. “But I’m going to cool off.” Fingers fleetingly touch his clothed chest before she enters her beloved lake. 

Facing him, she watches his eyes linger as the water envelopes her. It’s brisk and invigorating, but could be so much more so if she was not alone. 

“It’s lovely in here, Ondolemar.” Laying on her back, Theodora continues taunting him. “Why don’t you come join me?” Slipping beneath she submerges herself, finding so much peace in the quiet below. Popping back up, hair flipping overhead, she looks at him the right way. That much is evident as he removes his own clothes, casting them aside to wade through the water. As he approaches, the wanting expression creates quite the contrast with his words. 

“So this will be how I die.”

[illumiera]

WIP Wednesday

thank you so much for the tag, @theoneandonlysemla! 💖 I thought I'd join in on the WIP Wednesday train and share an excerpt from the in-progress ninth chapter of i fear no fate (for you are my fate), especially since said chapter made it to 1, 000 words yesterday! so, here's Miraak admiring his new manicure courtesy of Elentari:

Miraak blinks. He blinks once, twice, thrice. Then, so slowly he could still be wrapped up in the web of a dream, he turns his trembling hand over and over and over again, palm-back-palm-back in a blur of ink-stained fingertips and scarred, sun-starved skin. This time, his gaze is fixed, hunting for the tell-tale flicker of something that would break the spell and betray the illusion, because the part of him that has not yet escaped Apocrypha is certain that this must be one final trick of the mind from the Prince who’d sought to claim him forevermore. After all, he remembers it all too well, the way he’d once stood by and watched as those already half-maddened from decades lost pacing the same paths through Mora’s realm had exclaimed aloud and gripped a tome like a treasure, and the way their shouts of victory had sharpened to screams as the knowledge for which they’d damned themselves twisted before their scouring eyes. The way it must have felt almost like a relief after that, to give in to the inevitable. And still the sight before him refuses to alter. Still he remembers the warmth—the light—that had flooded him the moment his same-soul had granted him the sound of his truest name ringing from her lips like a golden bell hung in the very heart of her. His claws are gone. His claws are gone, and the woman whose healer’s touch had purged them from him— Elentari is still elsewhere, neither here with him nor lingering behind in their shared dream of his homeland. Her eyes are wide and unseeing, staring straight past him as though he truly has become the ghost the seer had foretold, and try as he might, he does not recognise the strange light within them. Her eyes are full of sunshine, he has always thought, sunshine on pine needles, on young spring leaves, on all the green growing things of the world—but they’re nothing like that now, not while they’re aglow with a sheen of unearthly silver like moonrays spilling into a forest pool.

and as a bonus, a very messy rough sketch WIP of my two silly dragons, because we all need to draw our OTP as a classic painting at least once:

now, I tag @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @bostoniangirl21 @madam-whim @pinessydr @lilarus and you, reader, if there's something you'd like to share, too! ✨

[bougainvillea-and-saltwater]

WIP WEDNESDAY!

HELLO, many of my beloved mutuals tagged me in their snippets and WIP Wednesdays these days, and I can't thank you all enough for this, @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @bostoniangirl21, @illumiera, @hircines-hunter, @skyrim-forever! 🧡 So, I thought it was the perfect chance to share something from chapter 22 of The Priest and the Dragoness...

Then, at the very crescendo of the fever, something strange happens. Instead of the howl of the wounded and rabid beast Jia was sure she’d cry as a devastated, furious rejoinder, Words of Power come out. They burst forth unbidden, unconscious from the shelter of her teeth, as though her very dragon soul has just equally enough and taken over without seeking the input of her reason, roaring through her human mouth. It’s like Solstheim all over again, but this time, it is not Storm Call that echoes from her depths. “TIID KLO!” The world stands still. Yet, as a newfound turn of her Voice’s reach, this stillness is not equally shared by all. Because the Second can feel everything with terrible clarity—time crawling as slowly as the rolling of a dewdrop on a mossy tree trunk, and the tapestry of space ripping out its yarns, leaving only a flimsy, dark shroud outstretching around him—a darkness of a familiar place nonetheless, for he’s been there before. Northwatch Keep. Hawk-swift, he whips his head around, left-right, left-right, left-right… and then—and then he sees her. At the end of the pitch-black corridor, with a lone sliver of light bathing her, a pure and pale aura shimmering in the gloaming, though beneath the purity, there is also something—something raw, bloody, with nerve endings hanging out all over the place, sharp and piercing like the most vicious fire straight from the bottomless pits of hell, and her eyes— —her eyes are bleached. Same as then, when he tortured her. Same as her father’s, when he tortured him. Pupils and irises there are not. Only two white moons. “You will not live to see the eye of your God.” She opens her mouth but her lips are unmoving and her voice… Auriel have mercy on him, her voice is dissonant and layered with someone—something?—else’s he’s dreaded to pinpoint. “Your heart burned. The fire seethed you from the inside. It crawls through your lungs before your breaths turn to ashes in your mouth. You blast inside out, and your maimed members scattered and melted. Until there is nothing left of you but bones.” His eyes widen. These… words! He—he recognizes them! He’s been—he’s been told before by— “You are dying.” She prophesies, weaving past, present, and future words like a myriad of astral spools of her mind. And for one time in this life of his, full of power and control, Caranthir feels fear for his sinful soul. “You died in the fire of your own veins and snow falls on top and covers you in a shroud of white. You did not run. You will not run. You cannot run.” He looks down— —his boots within a pool of blood; stuck, like trapped in quicksand. She laughs. “Shut up,” he whispers as he sinks. “S-Shut up, shut up, you witch!” And Elettra laughs harder.

There, Jia and her Beloathed Thalmor Enemy having a Real Moment™. Definitely inspired by Helaena's prophecy to Aemond from HotD—Jia's being Cassandra here...👀

I tag: @oblivions-dawn, @miraakulous-cloud-district, and @thequeenofthewinter and everyone who wishes to share something—don't forget to tag me back so I can see it! 🥰

[oblivions-dawn]

I Made Myself Cry

YEBLO. I have been so very insanely busy with no energy to write away on my chapter--HOWEVER. There is something I've been wanting to share, and it's the existence of the Volkihar portrait that I hinted at whenever that was. Because it hurt me and now I'm going to hurt all of you ❤ Thank you to all the wonderful snipes by @thequeenofthewinter @yewphoric @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @umbracirrus @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 and @hircines-hunter YOU'RE ALL AWESOME AND I LOVE SEEING ALL OF YOUR WIPS <3 Anyway. This is still from my forever-WIP with Valerica, which is slowly but surely . . . getting there. Needless to say, she's also not coping well WHEEZE I hope you enjoy it--and hopefully I can share something with our favourite redhead next time!

An unnatural chill settled over Valerica as her eyes swept the room with critical disdain. The ghosts of her memories, although faded with time, still lingered here. She silently chastised herself, for she should’ve known better than to expect otherwise. Eventually, her citrine scrutiny was drawn to the beautiful yet dusty vanity. Propped against it and haphazardly covered with an old tablecloth was a painting that she knew all too well. Against her better judgement, she hesitantly approached it, then took the cloth and gave it a soft tug. It slipped off the intricately carved frame too easily, and revealed what had long laid hidden underneath.

A family portrait stared back at her. Her husband’s dark eyes were tinged with a warmth that pained her to see, his usually stern expression brightened by the slightest grin, his hair loose as his hands rested on his wife’s shoulders. She glanced over her own painted face, her deep diopside irises glittering, her smile bright, her black hair braided over her shoulder. And in her arms . . .

A small, pale babe, wrapped in a dusty rose blanket, with a head full of dark hair and dravite eyes wide with wonder. Their daughter; her daughter. Serana.

Her breath caught in her throat. Tears welled and cascaded down her cheeks. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs, the tablecloth clenched in a deathlike grip between her fingers.

Valerica could blame Harkon all she wanted for tearing them apart, but it would never change the past. It would never undo the harm she had done a millennia ago.

It would never bring Serana back to her.

[vivifriend]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @thequeenofthewinter, @dirty-bosmer, @hircines-hunter, and @bostoniangirl21. Thank y'all so much. 💕💕💕

I'mma tag @rainpebble3, @throughtrialbyfire and @changelingsandothernonsense, and anyone else who sees this. (and if you already participated, or it's no longer Wednesday where you are, consider this a pester for next week. XD)

Have a bit of a snippet from Snowflake's Chance: Lewin is meeting people in Whiterun.

>>>>>>

Lewin watched, smelling the concern in Eorlund's scent. He's not good with overt shows of affection it seems. But it's clear there's care here. "He promised to teach me to cook," he said cheerfully. "Can't do that without getting hungry."

"Can you hunt?" he asked, glancing at him. "I heard you telling Aela why you prefer the crossbow."

"Very well," he said, crossing his arms. It's easy with a crossbow. And easier in wolf form.

"Good." He frowned, leaning in and peering at his armor. "Do you mind?" he asked, reaching his hand toward him.

"Go ahead."

Nodding, smelling pleased, he prodded at his armor, running his thumb over the leather on his shoulder. "What kind of leather is this? I can tell it's not deer or elk. It's too soft for that. Where did you get it?"

"High Rock. Knowing the smith who made it, the leather would have been sourced close to home."

"Where is close to home?" he asked, scraping a thumbnail over it. 

"Evermore."

"Hmm. Talked to someone from that region once who claimed there's gryphons in the area. I didn't put much stock in it. Everything I've heard is that they're a Summerset creature."

"Well, they were honest," Lewin said. "There are a handful of aeries in a few different regions of High Rock. They're scruffier than their Summerset counterparts but they do exist."

"That's it then," he said, smelling very pleased. "And good quality steel. You're wearing armor worth a fortune young man."

"As do the Companions," he noted.

He grinned. "You're right about that."

[ronkeyroo]

Saturn meeting the Twin Planets™️

Im sorry i had to do it 😭

Anyways, its so good to see you back with a new blorbo to your collection 🫂💖

WAAHHH NANIII Thank you so much my friend ;_;) Life goes on and the blorbo collection grows....This time its silly Pokemon Shenanigans, with crazy SPACE NERDSSSSS no less muAHAHAH

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

THIS WEEK I ACTUALLY DID THE WRITING !!

Thank you so much to my dear friends @illumiera and @bougainvillea-and-saltwater for tagging me, this brought a huge smile on my face because I actually have something to share for a wip wednesday! Finally!! I have a memory sequence from the next chapter of WYGTYA and writing kid Ravonna got me so emotional.

~

“Can’t sleep.” Ravonna rubbed her eyes.

“How come?” He crouched down to be at face level with her.

“‘Dunno. Give me something strong.” She said with conviction, and Endryin did his best to suppress his laughter.

“You've been hearing that too much. I’m afraid it doesn’t work on eight year-olds.” He ruffled her hair until big green pupils were staring at him annoyed. 

“Well then what do kids do to fall asleep?”

“I don’t know. Can’t remember.” He grinned, teasing her.

“Old man...”

“Let’s see… do you want me to read you a story?” he asked, remembering that that’s what he heard some parents say.

“How does that help me sleep though? I’ll just be listening to you. ‘S rude not to pay attention.”

He really laughed this time, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” 

“What’s unbelievable is that you don’t have a strong, kid friendly drink to help me sleep.”

“Would miss girl sleep better after a glass of milk, perhaps?”

~

Endryn fathered so hard that he mothered. He is, tragically, very fun to write and I wish I could write him as something else other than a flashback, but it is what it is. Gotta save the dad vibes for when I write Hjaldir. I don't know who already did this or not, but I'll tag @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @hircines-hunter @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 @sheirukitriesfandom

[hircines-hunter]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @bostoniangirl21

Hi. So I talked briefly about a 3rd story for Sifkni after I finish Blood Moon. It’ll be called Clash of Claw and Steel and it’ll be about a new group of Werewolf Hunter group >:3c I am ready to write this. Here have the prologue!

Gonna tag @umbracirrus @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @thequeenofthewinter @mavariel @vivifriend

@theoneandonlysemla @skyrim-forever @sulphuricgrin @illumiera and anyone else that wants to do this.

Smoke infiltrated her nostrils. Sifkni turned her head. Heavy black smoke rose from the skyline. From Whiterun. Jorrvaskr?

Panic.

Her heart thudded against her chest. She feared it would leap out.

It pounded loudly in her head.

Her body moved but not fast enough. Even as Whiterun grew closer it was so far. Too far.

It was like Kodlak all over.

A crowd.

The blood.

Sifkni pushed her way through the crowd.

Her heart dropped.

A scream.

Her scream.

“We no longer have any need for you, Dragonborn. Nor the Companions.”

Sifkni crumpled to the ground, sobbing. She looked around. Death. Destruction. All the Companions. She crawled to a mutilated figure. She could only tell it was Farkas by his scent. She wept on his chest.

“Any last words?”

“You’ll rue the day you messed with Hircine’s Champion.” A sword blade touched her neck and moved away. It slammed into her throat, slicing through flesh, sinew, and bone.

[draconicocelot]

Idk about greedfall, but let's give Eleanor and Sashi some minty chocolate ice cream 👀

Mint chocolate chip: Do they have any pet peeves?

Eleanor: Definitely skdhjd. Despite being very professional and cool under pressure, she does get silently angry very easily. She is bothered by those who assume they are better than everyone else, and she immediately humbles them by kicking their ass (either verbally or physically if needed skdjs). Basically her pet peeve is stupid people XDD

Sashi: While he is a very humble lad who doesn’t get angry easily, injustice reeeeeally sets him off. If he sees someone getting picked on or ganged up on he will immediately spring into action to stop it. This is why he treats everyone equally until they give him a reason to treat them differently. He doesn’t automatically assume anything about those he meets, but if they make a comment about him being a khajiit in a negative manner, the “peeved ears™️” come out (like the cat below skdjs) and he formulates responses accordingly. He doesn’t take personal offense to those insulting him because he is a khajiit, but he knows how that person treats others who are different, and that is his pet peeve.

[dirty-bosmer]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @skyrim-forever and by @theoneandonlysemla @thequeenofthewinter @lady-iizsil last week. Thank you <3 As always I love seeing what everyone's working on :) posting before work and will catch up on lunch break heheh

Tagging: @justafoxhound @elavoria @ladytanithia @unironicallytes @gilgamish @tallmatcha @sheirukitriesfandom @lucien-lachance @stormbeyondreality @bostoniangirl21

Chipping away at chapter 2 of post-applewatch Lucien/Nim smutchaos. He's slowly discovering that his girlfriend is the Daedric Prince of Madness and he's uh... not happy about it :)

Mountain air and forest musk. Sharp sting of pine on wind-chafed skin. Past the battlements of Fort Farragut, the sunlight grasps at all it can touch, scours the world until it’s clean, gilded and glimmering. Lucien has seen enough of Tamriel to know that this is as close to paradise as he’ll ever be again, so he breathes it deep, permitting himself only a moment of idle fantasy, where alone, he dreams of the life that he’s since left behind. One with the security afforded by the familiar title of Speaker, one where he still knew with certainty what Sithis wanted of him. One where he didn’t question the power he’d rightfully earned. The life before he met her.  But now? Now as Listener, bearing the highest honor that can be bestowed, he’s become frayed, unfinished, a stranger to himself. Now when the Brotherhood needs him the most, doubt rots him at the root, hollows him out in the xylem. And it sickens him, revolts him, and he knows this isn’t him, knows in his bones that this weakness comes from powers beyond comprehension. Strange magic she's infected him with— she's changed. She changes him, for he has never been this man, and it’s her fault. Hers. The sin no prayer will deliver. The poison he’d have to let himself bloodless to relieve. Him and his Silencer who's no longer his Silencer, growing together like lichen, alike in that desire makes them even more frightening. How they want so completely. How their love consumes all. Even here, hundreds of miles from their home in Bravil, he can’t escape it. Trapped in the whirl of it, he watches himself orbit about her as if hovering a foot above his head. Lucien's fists strain against the railing, because he is the Listener; he is not this man. Duty comes before all and if she threatens it, she'll reap the consequence, and yet he knows, in his bones, that he'll return to her out of instinct, some animal inclination, by some foreign presence inside him. Inhuman and shapeless, unable to vanquish the final act of longing, he opens his heart to her like a fresh wound. Like something torn apart. 

It's them.