#Redemption Inn fic

[writingforfishes]

This is all Worm's Fault

@worm-writes-hicfics, congratulations. This is completely your fault.

This is a hicfic fanfic from Ha.zbin H.otel.

The character's names are broken up by periods to hopefully be more difficult in searching for by the non-hiccups kink tumblr community.

This particular fandom is pretty big and passionate. I'm good with this fiction not gaining much attention past other hiccup kinksters.

If someone happens to find it that isn't into hiccups that's actually not a big deal because this fic is literally the tamest hic fic I have ever written.

It is saccharine sweet. It is teeth rotting. No one has any arousal whatsoever. It is completely unfiltered because there is no reason to filter it.

I will still do CW's because for people not familiar with the fandom it might be needed.

CW's

Lots of language. F-words, s-words. If that's not your jam, do a scroll.

Also mentions of porn and a porn star character.

Alcohol mentions.

This takes place is Hel, btw.

The characters are demons.

One character is an arachnid inspired demon and thus has many limbs.

The other is a winged cat.

Mentions of an abusive boss.

Painful hiccups that have gone on for a while (but they do end).

I do ask if you reblog this you please do not put the fandom or characters in the tags unfiltered.

“Hmlk!-uh...hrmlk!-fuck!”

An.gel had been hiccuping for almost an hour in front of Hu.sk’s bar. He’d been leaning on the bar top as they’d been having a 'casual' chat about their 'bosses'. (AKA, bitching and complaining.) At first the hiccups didn’t seem to bother him. They’d tried some tried and true bartender cures, but An.gel admitted that when he got the hiccups it was impossible to cure them. That seemed to be holding true.

“Why don’t you just let them out? It can’t help keeping them in like that,” Hu.sk noted, lazily cleaning the glasses they’d used.

It was late and everyone else in the hotel had retired to...whatever they did. Hu.sk really couldn’t find himself caring about the others outside of when they were bothering them with participation or drinking from his bar. At least that’s what he told himself.

“Cause they’re hrmlk!-loud as fuck!” An.gel spat. The spider-demon curled in on himself a little and Hu.sk hid a fond smile as he looked down to put away the glass he’d wiped clean.

The bartender didn’t mention that there was literally no one in the lobby to hear the hiccups, but perhaps An.gel perceived that his hiccups could be possibly heard from inside the rooms. If he didn’t, Hu.sk assumed An.gel was embarrassed for Hu.sk, himself, to hear them. It was an endearing concept. He tried not to let it linger.

“So? You’re loud all the time,” Hu.sk scoffed, regaining his gruff manner. No need to show An.gel his soft side too much, yet. Or ever.

“Yeah sm—smart guy hrrrmlk!-fuck!” the porn star rubbed into the fur on his chest, on his sternum, and squinted his eyes in mild pain. “But I can control that. Hrmlk’kl!-fucking shit! Ow!”

They hadn’t seemed to cause An.gel this much discomfort when they’d started, but they’d been going on for a while and seemed to be getting worse.

“They sound painful,” Hu.sk noted. “So, you okay just being in pain over a little embarrassment?”

“Hey n—nothing wrong with hmmp’k!-with a little bit-mmmpk!-bit of pain. MMK’K! Owwwww.”

An.gel’s head collapsed on the bar. He pulled one set of arms up to cover it while the other wrapped around his lithe body. When the next hiccup hit his entire abdomen jolted and he whined again.

“Yeah...I can see that…” Hu.sk noted, dryly.

“Shut nnnk!-up!” An.gel replied, muffled with the bar against his mouth.

After a few seconds of watching and listening to the pitiful creature continuing to hiccup and whimper as he continued to press his head against the surface of the bar (no doubt leaving a facial smear that Hu.sk would have to polish away) the owl cat sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Sorry if I’m an-hnnk!-annoying ya. I’ll leave hlmk!-leave if ya want. Try to hngk!-to sleep these b—bastards off mmk! Ugh…” An.gel said to Hu.sk’s sigh. He’d lifted his head from the bar finally, eyes narrowed in exhaustion tinged with pain and annoyance.

And sure, Hu.sk thought, that might have been a tactic to get attention. But the facial expression seemed more genuine than An.gel’s usual put-ons for attention. Too subtle. And Hu.sk may have been cynical, but he’d like to think he’d stopped being outright cruel. Unless it was deserved.

“No-no. That’s not what I was sighin’ about,” he grumbled. “It’s just-I know something that might help but I’m trying to decide how to do it without you thinking I’m coming on to you.”

An.gel’s eyes widened a little at the admission, eyes full of curiosity and suspicion.

“Why wouldn’t y-nngk!-you wanna come on NNK’L!-ow!-onto me?” he said, with a fair amount of teasing.

It’s not like An.gel hadn’t literally thrown himself at him multiple times in the past. Admittedly, it was before he’d started to develop...he didn’t want to call it ‘feelings’. Having ‘feelings’ for someone felt dirtier than any other thing he’d ever done on tape or stage. It was before he developed something for Hu.sk.

“Ugh, dude, I just don’t wanna be like all your other...whatevers. Listen, if you don’t want me to help that’s fine,” Hu.sk said grumpily.

“Okay o-HNGK!-kay! Ow…” An.gel said and paused to wince at the intensity of that hiccup. “I’ll take an—any help I can gEH!et at this point!”

Hu.sk eyeballed him before tightening his lips over his teeth and then seeming to come to a decision. He casually removed his hat. He could tell An.gel take interest in the motion but a glare from him prevented the performer from commenting.

“Go lay down on the couch and try to relax. I’ll meet you over there,” he said shortly.

“O...k-hlnk!-kay…” An.gel said, with some suspicion.

“Oh, relax. I’m not gonna scare you or anything. ‘Sides, doubt you’d scare easily anyway. I just gotta clean your face smear off the bar and I’ll be over there,” Hu.sk said. “Try to get relaxed, okay?”

He didn’t maintain eye contact with An.gel so, confused, An.gel did what he said. He reclined on the sofa but had a hard time relaxing. Some of it was because the way his body jostled with each hiccup that he continued to stubbornly suppress was painful. Some of it was the anticipation of not knowing what Hu.sk had planned. And, he admitted, some of that anticipation was excitement.

Hu.sk grabbed a rag and rubbed at the imprint of An.gel’s face as he watched that face winced with pain as An.gel settled onto the couch. For a moment he seemed to relax as he reclined. How long had Val had him on his feet today? How long on his back? Hu.sk didn’t want to think about it.

But the second An.gel hiccuped again his back arched and a flash of pain came over those flamboyant features. The expression was much more subtle than Hu.sk was used to An.gel making. It let him know it was real and not a put-on. One of An.gel’s hands was back on his chest, and another seemed to massage his ribs while a third ran up and down his abdomen.

Hu.sk sighed again. He really hoped he could offer some help. And oh how his old self would have laughed at that.

Hu.sk came over finally. He wiped his hands awkwardly on his pants, unexpectedly nervous.

“Long time no s-hlmk!-see!” An.gel said, flirtation being a natural state of being. But it wasn’t lavish or exaggerated so Hu.sk didn’t feel affronted by it.

“You okay with me-um-layin’ on top of you?” Hu.sk asked.

“S-HLNK!-sure?” An.gel agreed with confusion. He rubbed his chest again.

“Not, like, sexual or anything. And keep your hands to fuckin’ self. If I feel one of them copping a feel, I’m out. And don’t think I’m not aware of those two little ones you keep hidden away. I mean it. I think this’ll help but this ain’t about sex or fuckin’ or some shit, okay?” Hu.sk said gruffly.

An.gel’s eyes got wide. He honestly didn’t even know how to respond to that. He spread his hands away from his torso and nodded in compliance.

“Got it. No hlmk!-no funny business. Hlmp!” The last hiccup came out in a squeak that An.gel tried to hide the embarrassment of.

“Okay. And if you tell anybody about this…” Hu.sk warned. His eyes intensified in such a way that the power Alastor had helped him retain was more than visible.

“I-hngk!-I promise! Jeez!” An.gel exclaimed, eyes wide.

Hu.sk’s facial features calmed down. He folded his wings tighter onto his back, feeling the feather’s lay against his shoulders softly. He, very delicately, lay atop An.gel until he was right over him, face hovering over his. Giving a glance to the pink eyes he closed his own and softly put his head right below An.gel’s on the soft chest.

“This is HNK!-uh kinda weird…” An.gel admitted.

Hu.sk growled a little, which An.gel could feel through his body, but it stopped, and he could feel Hu.sk’s body go a little heavier.

“I know,” Hu.sk muttered, “just gimme a second.”

“You know h-hmpk!-how much I charge f—for a second for this much hmlpk!-much closeness?” An.gel snapped. He felt Hu.sk’s body tense again and saw his eyes crack open in annoyance. “Sorry, force of h-HMPLK!-ugh, habit!”

Hu.sk felt An.gel’s body jerk into his with each hiccup. He could feel his chest jump and the thump in his stomach. Not wonder he’d been in pain. These things were violent, moreso than An.gel had let on.

When he’d asked An.gel how long he’d had them An.gel had said he’d had them on and off all day. This case had lasted an hour before he came to the bar. Val had actually made him go back to the hotel because of them. Apparently, Val hated hiccups. It annoyed the moth demon to the point of anger. Though Hu.sk hadn’t asked, he wondered if Val had gotten violent at An.gel for having them. He’d seen no mars or black eyes on him, but he’d watched him more carefully after Val’s hatred for something as innocuous and uncontrollable as hiccups was revealed.

“Um...mmpk!” An.gel uttered jerking again as he hiccuped with a grunt. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to be happening or if he was supposed to be doing anything.

“Lemme focus, okay?” Hu.sk said. He knew An.gel was getting impatient. But he couldn’t just turn it on.

“Can I-hmpk!-lay my hands on you? In a-hnk!-a totally hnk!-totally non-sex-hlmp!-sexual way!” An.gel said, the last bit said quickly. His hiccups sped up in kind.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Hu.sk decided.

Hu.sk felt the weight of all four of An.gel’s hands, then. Three settled on his wings. One found its way on his head.

“This ok-hmk’l!-okay?” An.gel asked.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Hu.sk’s dry retort covered up the genuine niceness it felt to be touched in such a delicate way. It was a way he hadn’t expected An.gel to be. He felt soft caresses to his wings and fingers rubbing his head. It wasn’t intrusive. It was...nice. Really fucking nice.

An.gel was smiling down at the bartender as he relaxed more onto his body. It was awkward being so physically close to someone without expectation. An.gel never really considered himself into cuddling but having Hu.sk consenting to lay on him platonically was starting to convert him.

He usually felt too overwhelmed with what someone wanted him to do or be with physical closeness and no actual fucking. In addition to feeling oddly calm with Hu.sk’s closeness, the boy was soft all over. His feathers, his fur, for all of Hu.sk’s sharp personality edges his body was incredibly comfortable. Was it An.gel’s fault that petting him was too tempting to pass up? If Hu.sk wanted, he would stop, but Hu.sk certainly seemed like he was okay with the situation.

If not for the damn hiccups that spiked pain every time they happened, An.gel would be completely content. But then he started to feel vibrations, not the sexy toy-related kind, either. These were vibrations deep within Hu.sk’s body. And, in a second, An.gel understood what Hu.sk’s intention had been. He was purring on purpose. He was purring for An.gel. And boy did that unlock feelings in the porn star he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully acknowledge.

“HNGNK!” An.gel emitted with another painful jerk. He squeezed his eyes tight and tried to focus on the vibrations and the sound of Hu.sk’s purrs. It was one of the hardest hiccups yet.

“Fuck, man. Just let them out, An.gel,” Hu.sk said, his voice’s timbre joining with the deep purring he focused on the demon below him. “It’s just you and me, here. I can feel how much they’re jerkin’ you. I ain’t gonna judge.”

An.gel looked down to Hu.sk’s eyes glinting up at him. He could see Hu.sk’s fur vibrating lightly on his throat as he purred.

“Ugh! Fine! ...HU’ILK!” The hiccup shrieked out of him, and he could feel Hu.sk flinch and saw his ears flatten briefly.

“Holy shit!” Hu.sk exclaimed.

“Sorry! HI’ILP! I tried to w-HU’ILP!-warn ya!” An.gel apologized. “It does HU’ILK!-does feel better when I let them out though. HI’EEK!”

“It’s okay. Just gotta...acclimate. Damn, kid. You did say you had powerful lungs, huh?” Hu.sk said, still purring despite the shock.

“Aw you re-HEE’EEP!-remembered! Yeah, great for a-HILK’M!-a lot of things. Hiccups ain’t one of them,” An.gel said with a chuckle that ended in another loud and powerful hiccup. “I can go back to HEELP’M!-to keeping them in if you want?”

“Naw. You keep doing what makes you feel better. I’ll deal. Is it-uh-helping? At all?” Hu.sk asked.

An.gel nodded.

“Yeah. It HU’ILP!-uh, it feels nice, actually. HU’ULP!” An.gel sighed at the deeper hiccup before continuing a little breathlessly, “thanks for doin’ this, Hu.sk.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hu.sk muttered. “Like I said, just don’t tell anyone, k? I can let my reputation gettin’ fucked up cause you blabbed that I purred on you.”

“I pro-HERP!-mise!” An.gel said.

“You what?” Hu.sk said, chuckling.

“Fuck you,” An.gel said, with a good-natured laugh.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Mmm hu’ERK!-one day,” An.gel said, giving Hu.sk’s head another massage as his purrs intensified sending deep and comforting vibrations through his torso and chest in a way that felt way more intimate than anything else he’d ever done with another person.

It should have scared him to feel such intimacy, he should feel the need to run away. But instead An.gel stayed, feeling the healing purrs that covered him and the soft warm weight that blanketed him. He felt...safe? Yes. What a foreign concept. What a scary thing to feel. It felt so delicate and uncertain to feel safe. It felt so temporary. But he allowed himself to feel it for the moment and reminded himself it wasn’t forever and that made him feel less antsy about accepting it.

“Maybe…” Hu.sk finally muttered.

An.gel didn’t dare to respond to that. He just stroked Hu.sk’s head again and gripped his wings a little tighter with his bottom pair of arms. The porn star honestly couldn’t care less about ever having sex with Hu.sk; if he could have him like this whenever he wanted, it would be more than enough.

He was so in his own thoughts that it took a few minutes to realize that his hiccups had finally stopped. Hu.sk hadn’t moved. Purrs still rolled louder and softer with his breaths. His hand lightly touched An.gel’s shoulder. His other sidled along An.gel’s lower shoulder on the opposite side. His legs intertwined with An.gel’s in the most innocent of ways. His wings had loosened from their hold against his back, and one had started to flop over the sofa’s front and down to the floor, too heavy for An.gel’s grip to hold them together.

An.gel took a deep, cleansing breath that was finally uninterrupted by spasms of his diaphragm and watched Hu.sk’s head rise and fall on his chest. The owl cat demon’s purrs grew louder for a moment and then settled into their regular pattern. An.gel smiled softly at him as his eyes gave a slow blink at the bartender’s doze.

Several minutes later An.gel himself dozed off. And when Cha.rlie ambled down in the middle of the night to see about a glass of water she was barely able to contain a squeal as she spotted the two in such a truly adorable position. They were both so uncharacteristically relaxed and so cuuuute omg!

But for all of Cha.rlie’s joy and excitement she never did reveal her findings to anyone in the hotel, even Va.ggie. Somehow, she thought that neither one of her friends would appreciate anyone else knowing of their precious cuddle puddle nap she’d walked in on. But the next day every time she saw them, she let out a small squeak and grinned like a loon.

[loki-cees-all]

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke. 

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[graysparrowao3]

Baldur's Gate 3 Fic Masterlist

Last updated Nov 2nd 2024

Hi there, I'm Gray (or Sparrow!)! I didn't really want the 'ao3' to be always at the end of my name, but I got the username and title mixed up when I was making the account, and here we are lol.

I really enjoy writing Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic, especially based on Rolan, Cal, and Lia but most anyone really, especially NPCs (and, apparently, an unexpected redemption series featuring Rugan and Aradin that broke me emotionally).

I've loved finding so many friends and talented folks in the fandom, please feel welcome to connect 💛

[Fic list under cut]

Multi-Chapter fics - Mature & Explicit

What if Rolan was a Companion. Complete. Mature Follows the game with Rolan as a companion and gn!Tav.

What if Rolan was a Companion... and Everything Went Wrong. In progress, on hiatus, Companion piece to the above. The game with Rolan, angst, and pain.

The Elturian Prodigy - Currently In progress, Explicit due to violence. A story of Rolan, Cal, and Lia, or 'What Baldur's Gate 3 looks like in my head'.

What if Kanon Lived. In progress, not published. An alternate timeline of the game in which, you guessed it, Kanon lived.

Rolan, Cal, & Lia One shots - General/Teen

A Perfectly Reasonable Exchange. General. Rolan and gn!Tav go on a romantic walk, then Cal and Lia ask how it went.

The Bet. General. Cal and Lia try to keep romantic liaisons secret from Rolan.

Distraction. General. Lia must distract Rolan and Cal so her lover can sneak away.

Our Turn. Teen and Up. Cal and Lia take care of Rolan after he defeats Lorroakan. Emotional hurt. Inspired by this art by @dreaminginpencil.

The Northern Bastards - Aradin & Rugan "Multi Chapter" (guest star Zevlor from when this was a collection of oneshots) - Explicit

What if Aradin pushed Zevlor too far. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. ZevlorxAradin. Aradin is a piece of shit. Zevlor puts him in his place. Secret Santa.

A One Night Stand at The Blushing Mermaid. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. RuganxAradin. Rugan finds a way to shut Aradin up.

A Second Night Stand at The ElfSong Tavern. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hasn't learned his lesson. In appreciation for @benicemurphy.

A Third Night Stand Under the Stars. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hits rock bottom. Rugan reluctantly tries to help him get his shit together. In appreciation for Merdyr.

Fourth Time's A Charm. Explicit sexual content. Rugan is tasked by the Zhent to kill Aradin. It doesn't quite go to plan. Requested by @fangbanger3000

Five Times Too Many. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin would've been best if they never met again. But they did. In appreciation for @lizziemajestic.

Six Times to Say Goodbye. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin meet for last time (lies). They've a few things to get sorted out. In appreciation of everyone's support.

Seven Times at Night, Once in the Morning. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin reconnect with actual mature conversation and sex. Rugan catches feels. In appreciation of Octoberskyies.

Eight Times to Get It Right. Explicit sexual content. There's a lot unsaid and unresolved. Time to say it and resolve it. In appreciation of @faerieologymajor and @vera-king-hrfl. Inspired by ideas from @fangbanger3000, @benicemurphy, and @lizziemajestic.

Nine Times to a Confession. Explicit sexual content. Time for love and making love. In appreciation of @forget-me-maybe and bepisfan69.

Ten Out of Ten. A Perfect Score / Too Good to Be True. Explicit sexual content, Major character death, Graphic depictions of violence. The End. In appreciation for @lemonsrosesandlavender, @theycallmeratt, and rolypoly.

At The Eleventh Hour. Explicit sexual content. Bonus mini chapter. Declarations of love. Finally. Inspired by @benicemurphy.

A Twelfth Night. Explicit sexual content. Aradin uses Speak With Dead.

Oneshots with Other People's Tavs - Various Ratings

The Night at Last Light Inn. Explicit sexual content, Rolan and M!Tav, Nox, share a passionate night, belonging to and in collaboration with @bihanny.

Memories of Clover. Explicit sexual content, drama & romance with @azrielsbbg's F!Tav, Clover, winner of a Rolan fic giveaway.

Touch of The Tempest. Mature. Rolan tries to teach f!Tav, Nuelith, to control her magic, and triggers a terrifying loss of control. For Mandi.

A Wizard Keeps His Word. Mature. Atop the Elder Brain, Gale sacrifices himself for his lovers f!tav, Kira, and Astarion. For @callmesimplyflo.

Happily Ever After. General, Astarion and Ghost (m!Tav), in domestic bliss. Secret Santa for Eddie.

Despair. Deliberation. Defiance. Mature. The Dark Urge is confronted and comforted by Jay, f!Tav, after slaying a tiefling bard. For jayofthenorth.

Rolan Lore / Head Canon - General

Rolan romantic line suggestion

Descent into Avernus / BG3 theme

Player-is-evil Rolan ending suggestion

Letters from Rolan

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 1

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 2

Rolan, Cal, and Lia react to Ramazith's Tower bathroom

Environment in Ramazith's Tower post-game

Ramazith's Tower post-game part 2

Rolan 'dating service video script'

Rolan's Hair

Cal's Hair

Cal post-game

Other Oneshots - Various Ratings

What if Lorroakan was Named Larry Pickle. Mature, Comedy with a lot of silliness and 4th wall breaks.

In Memory of Kanon. General, Kanon, no!

Commissioned and Gifted Art

Commissioned art for The Elturian Prodigy by Alvin Asiaten.

A beautiful three panel sexually explicit comic based on the intimate scene in Chapter 35 of the 'What if' fic by Lexindre.

A favourite scene from the 'What if' fic, Lexindre drew this incredible piece from Chapter 36 as a birthday gift.

[redroomroaving]

Fic Masterlist & Geraldus Discord

Harper Prince Hamlet

First things first! You! Are you a fan of Harper Geraldus? Would you like to speak to other fans of the best Harper Prince?

Come join us in the Hamlet!

Masterlist of works:

Geraldus x Rolan

The Harper & The Tower: (E, updates x2 a week, Longfic) Geraldus & Rolan post game finding romance over books and healing, sugar, smut, good feelings, exploration of respective traumas and growing together.

Spring: (E, shortfic, WIP) Regency AU exploring Geraldus & Rolan, CW abuse, a huge amount of pining, forbidden romance, wet shirts etc

Don't burn alone in the dark: (T, what if, WIP) what if scenario exploring the game events with Geraldus at Last Light Inn, Rolan being a mess

H&T smut one shots:

The Habit of Perfection: poetry & smut, apologies to Gerard Manley Hopkins

A simple meal: cooking & smut, apologies to the Tower kitchen

Conjuring Majesty: balcony appreciation & Rolan feeling sorry for himself

A quiet retreat somewhere lovely dark & deep: cabin smut, apologies to Robert Frost

The aftershow: post opera smut, switching things up

Winter: Rolan failing at iceskating smut

Marked for prey: Spell battling sparring smut, apologies to most of the Ranger spell list

Donnick x Abdirak

Sufferer, I shall: (E, CW: BDSM, heavy themes, religious angst, COMPLETE) Loviatar & Ilmater stand in sworn opposition, and a badly injured Abdirak is recovering in the Temple of Ilmater. Exploration of contrasting gods of pain, romance & smut

Around willing whip, a rope bound: (E, CW: light BDSM, rope bondage, religious themes) Follow up and epilogue of sorts to Sufferer, I shall

To Suffer, to live: (E, CW: short smut, heresy, flagellation) continuation of S,IS & AWW, ARB

Small Sanctuary: (E) follow up, smut and fluff with some religious angst and soup cooking

Kar'niss x Klaus

Trusting. Trusted. (E, CW: Lore accurate drider content) What if Kar'niss was part of the Circus? A one shot romance exploration with a lot of support and sadness.

Conductor, Ringmaster (E, CW: More lore accurate drider stuff) Follow up from Trusting, Trusted, following Klaus x Kar'niss on some dates across the planes with the touring circus.

Geraldus x He Who Was

Of my sin: (E WIP, CW: trauma, dacryphilia) Shortfic, takes place in Act 3 following the Bhaalist cult, exploration of troubled relationships with returning to service.

They asked for no pickles: (HWW x Geraldus, E modern restaurant AU, COMPLETE) A little short fic because He Who Was loves pans that spawned out of a fic prompt challenge.

Shadowheart x He Who Was

Communion of shadows: (E, CW: Trauma, COMPLETE) Shadowheart/Shadar-kai mystery solving squad, exploring a lot of Shar/Ravenqueen lore and two really evasive people driving eachother insane

Halsin x M!Durge

On nights without much sleep: (E,CW: Durge stuff, COMPLETE) heavy on Redemption Durge angst, Halsin x Durge finding a lot of healing, nobody getting any sleep,

Klaus x Lia

A Dash of Scarlet: (E, smut one shot) spun off from H&T, shameless happy smut for Lia and Circus Husband

AUs:

The Red Harp: (HWWx Shadowheart, Rolan x Geraldus, E, Penny Dreadful AU) A monster hunting squad feat He Who Was, Shadowheart, Rugan, Geraldus, Jaheira, Minsc, Aradin and more to come.

Written in Glitter (or how we fell in love and took down a mega corporation along the way): (multi, Klaus x Kar'niss, Geraldus x HWW, Rolan x Haarlep, Abdirak x Donnick) modern au following the trials, tributions and loves of the roomates of 33 Rivington Place.

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 14

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: Semper Ad Meliora

Notes: /

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  14/ It’s a secret.

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You were the first one awake and went down to the inn to stretch your legs.

The Innkeeper greeted you warmly, as did the barmaid. You took your chance and asked if there was perhaps a spare aketon left behind by a patron. The Innkeeper had indeed a spare and kindly gave it to you free of charge, you hoped it would fit the Monk.

It was nice to see some friendly faces, the inn’s environment felt quite welcoming.

Some people were there to eat their breakfasts, others used ale to start their day.

You looked around the place to pick a suitable target, you searched the patrons for signs of wealth, it wasn’t in you to steal from the poor.

The door of the Inn opened and in walked a wealthy looking young fella.

A gold chain around his neck, two golden rings on his fingers and garments the nobility would wear. A lord by the looks of it.

The lord ordered only a tankard of ale and paid for it without saying much else.

Lancelot and Squirrel came down the stairs and walked over to you.

The Monk saw that your attention was fixed on the man. “What is it?”

You did not let your target out of your sight. “I’m going to get us some coin.”

He sighed. “Something tells me that you will not earn this in a honest manner.”

You handed him the aketon. “You worry about your clothing, I’ll handle this.”

You did not give the Monk a chance to get the idea out of your head and went over to the lord.

The lord was drinking his ale alone, but not for long, you went to stand right next to him.

“Hello.” You offered your most charming smile.

His eyes traveled over you slowly, then snapped up to your face.

“Good day, milady.” He greeted you back with a shy smile.

He was wearing a long overcoat and long tunic under it, you had seen him take the coin out of the pocket of the overcoat.

You turned your body towards his. “Has anyone ever told you how well that your attire suits you?”

The compliment surprised him and he brushed a hand over his overcoat, “You believe so?”

You boldly touched his chest. “I do. How firm…”

He cleared his throat nervously and took a sip of his ale before putting the tankard down on a table. He was distracted enough by the looks of it.

Then you did your usual trick and walked around him like a feline searching for attention, close enough to quickly let your fingers slip into his pocket and catch some coins between them, you closed your hand to hide them.

Slowly the young lord turned and put his attention on you fully, having felt the light brush of your hand along his waist.

“Forgive me, I am being too bold.” You apologized and tried to step away, but the man���s interest was awakened.

The Monk was watching the interaction like a hawk.

When the stranger put his hand on you, he was ready to step in.

The man held on to your arm lightly. “Not at all, milady. I enjoy your appearance as well.”

In your vest with holes in it? And two visible old blood stains on the hem of your shirt?

They would say anything to try and melt a woman’s heart if it got them what they wanted.

Squirrel knew what his part in this act was and came over running to your side. “Mother! Should we not return to father before he thinks we have gotten lost?”

Not a single one of these men you had played this trick on had ever pursued you further when they saw you had a child.

And this lord was no different, he let go off your arm right away, stunned by it all.

You gave an apologetic smile and took Squirrel by the hand, walking past the Monk to nod towards the door of the inn. You slipped the coins in the satchel at your side.

The Monk followed right behind you and when you were outside, he took hold of Squirrel’s shoulder, telling the boy, “Go and mount Goliath. Now.”

Squirrel did as told and hurried towards the stables.

Then the Monk caught you by the elbow and steered you towards them too, “Did you steal from that man?”

“I did. We need to survive and he clearly has enough.” You answered.

He walked faster, pulling you along. “We need to leave, before he realizes you have robbed him.”

With that, you agreed.

Even Squirrel knew it was unwise to linger around the inn for longer, it was why he had listened to Lancelot.

You thanked the stable boy for looking after the horses well and quickly got on your horse.

The Monk was the first out of that stable and you followed Goliath’s canter.

Once the inn was out of sight, you calmed the horse’s pace and rode beside them.

“How much did you get?” Squirrel look over at you.

You dug your hand into your satchel and fished out some of the coins to show him.

Four golden ones, the other’s in the satchel felt smaller and were most likely silver ones.

“You two have done this before.” The Monk stated.

You and Squirrel grinned wickedly. “The moment the men see that a child is with me, they stop pursuing.”

“Why?” He asked.

You thought he was joking, he was not. “I am afraid it is not uncommon for men to lose their interest in a woman if they see she has a child. I think they fear the responsibility it would bring them.”

A frown settled on his face and you realized that this act would not have worked on someone like him, the presence of a child did not scare him off.

Squirrel was chirpy, “But we do get coins easily from them.”

“Exactly.” You were proud of the scheme you had thought of together.

Squirrel proceeded to tell the Monk some stories of times when that scheme had almost failed and you had to improvise together.

After taking a short break from riding to drink some water and eat something, you continued on your journey.

The boy wanted to get something off of his heart and told the Monk, “Before you saved me from that ugly paladin, when I tried to save the Green Knight, he made me a knight of the Fey.”

You put your attention on Squirrel, as did the Monk.

Squirrel turned around for a second to look at him, “Do you think he’s alive?”

The Monk was quite for a moment, then truthfully replied, “I am not sure. All I know is that he was taken to Uther’s camp.”

It saddened the boy. “I hope he survived…”

This child was mourning a friend and could possibly be mourning another if the Green Knight had not survived.

The apology for the Monk’s part in this came forth, “I am sorry, Percival.”

Squirrel looked down at his hands. “I’ll forgive you, as long as you don’t go back to the paladins.”

It was a fair agreement.

You were looking over at him expectantly and waiting for what he would say to that.

The Monk said it to Squirrel and looked at you, “I will not.”

There was still fear in you that he would turn his back on the Fey again, that he would return to the Church and ask for forgiveness, maybe it was your own struggle to trust others that made you see the worst in others before seeing the best.

Then Squirrelsought an answer to the question many would have, “Why did you kill Fey?”

The Monk grew uncomfortable, the boy was brave enough to ask things that could have painful answers.

He answered with what he was raised to believe in, “Death is not the end. Cleansing would save their souls.”

Squirrel was worried what that included. “Are you… going to cleanse us too?”

He firmly told the boy, “No.”

Death is not the end…

You had an idea where that came from, “Death is not the end, that is something the Hidden have been known to say. Is that were you heard it too?”

The Monk cast his eyes to yours. “Death is not the end-”

You found yourself saying, “Save them…”

The slight widening of his eyes said it all, the Hidden had not just called upon you, but upon him as well.

You were starting to understand how they had turned him against his own people. Father Carden made a child believe that the Hidden agreed on the cleansing, that death was not the end, cleansing them was saving them.

The Hidden’s words had been twisted until it fitted the narrative of the priest.

You quietly told him what you believed had happened, “What you heard from the Hidden was used to turn you against them by the Church. You really believed you were saving us…”

The Monk looked away, like shame came over him.

Squirrel sensed the turmoil in him and carefully asked, “How long were you with them?”

He was rather quiet when replying, as if he feared to be judged, “I was younger than you, around the age of six, when I was chosen by Father and began my training. My memories of life before the clergy are vague, but I remember how I became the Grey Monk.”

“How?” Squirrel asked.

He fidgeted with the reins. “After four years, in the midst of my training, Father took me along to a cleansing. The Fey there saw me, saw my cross bearing clothes, and attacked me. I no longer belonged with them, I belonged to the Church. Father offered me a chance to save myself from the influence of evil.”

So that dammed priest had made a Fey child believe that the Fey were dangerous.

You tried to understand his point of view and reasoned with him, “The Fey attacked you because they believed you to be the enemy, not because evil gods took control of them. They were just scared.”

As he must have been too after that.

The Monk was trying to find the truth between the lies, at least he seemed to think it all through now.

You could not begin to imagine what other tactics they had used to mould him into the Weeping Monk. “They twisted your mind until it fitted their purpose. A frightened child is easy to manipulate.”

“Oi!” Squirrel piped up.

You saved yourself out of that one. “A child. Not a knight.”

The boy was pleased with that.

The Monk did not reject the possibility that it was true. “I was not permitted to question the faith.”

It came as no surprise. “At least you are willing to hear our voice now. Maybe death is not the end, but I prefer to live life to the fullest before I skip to the next one.”

You shared a look with the Monk, who seemed appreciative of how calm you had managed to stay while speaking of this. Seeing him outside the inn last night in the gushing rain to mourn Father Carden’s death, had made you less vigilant towards him. There was good in him, under all that struggle with his identity, and only he could make the decision if he would embrace that or not.

Returning to the Fey or returning to the Church was his choice to make. And if he were to keep his promise on earning your forgiveness…

It was either the Fey or the faith, and for now he had chosen the Fey, albeit just two of them.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

When evening came, the Monk picked out a spot in the forest to set up camp for the night.

By now, it was evident that the three of you could work together when there was clear communication.

You were getting the package of linen from your horse’s saddle, feeling the wounds on your back protest against it.

The Monk handed Squirrel a piece of cheese and asked the boy to cut some slices off and put the rest of it back into Goliath’s saddle, he then came over to your side to help you with the stack of linen.

“Does your back hurt?” He asked while putting the stack on the ground and untying the rope from it.

“It burns, but I’ll live.” You admitted.

There was a worried expression on his face,“It will take some days before the pain lessens.”

He handed you some of the linen and then went to retrieve something from Goliath’s saddle bag, he returned with a loaf of bread.

You frowned at the sight of it, “Where did you get that?”

“From a table at the inn.” He confessed.

You blurted out, “You stole it?!?”

The Monk failed to fight off a grin. “While you were occupied with robbing that man. Some bread will go well with the cheese.”

You stared for a second, then smiled. “I should not be proud, but I am. Well done.”

That small smile made him feel a bit better.

He was doing something right.

He let you take the bread from his hands.

You gestured to the nearly forgotten aketon that was draped over Goliath. “I’ll help Squirrel make us a meal. You can try on that aketon if you want?”

The Monk gave a nod and took the aketon from the saddle. “Brown…”

You stopped walking towards Squirrel, having heard the comment. “Just try it on, anything’s better than walking around with that cross all the time. People notice.”

That was true.

He took off his cloak and draped it over Goliath, who stood unbothered by it all.

Squirrel was but all too excited to test the sharpness of the knife he had been given as he cut the slices of the cheese, and then the bread you handed to him.

Together you made the modest meal of cheese on bread.

“If we had a fire, we could get these nice and crispy.” You said.

Squirrel looked up over your shoulder, “Can you make a fire again?”

You turned to see the Monk wearing the aketon, he was looking a bit timid and uncertain about the change of garments.

“It looks great.” You told him, because it did look good.

The Monk appreciated it and gave a slight nod to you, then answered Squirrel, “I can. We’ll need some branches and dry grass to-”

The boy was already up and searching the ground to collect the items.

You got closer to the Monk and adjusted one of the leather buckles that wasn’t sitting correctly, “Is it comfortable?”

The friendly gesture took him off-guard. “I… yes.”

You went over to help Squirrel collect what was needed. “Good. Now let’s get to that fire. I’m starving.”

A little while later, Lancelot had made a modest fire and helped the two of you by putting the bread, with cheese, on thin branches and held it over the fire.

The scent of the cheese melting over the bread filled the air.

He handed the one he had started with to Squirrel who eagerly plucked the crispy bread off of it and almost burned his fingers before putting it in his lap to cool off.

You were imitating the Monk’s idea and patiently waited for your meal to have the right level of crisp, and watched Squirrel try to eat from the hot meal, he was pulling some pieces of the bread and putting them in his mouth.

“You remind me of someone.” You admitted to the boy.

Squirrel was curious, “Really? Who?”

It was rare for you to talk about your family with others. “My cousin.”

The Monk had heard, you had never mentioned to him that you had a cousin.

“Why?” Squirrel asked.

You grinned. “You can be quite adorable too.”

Squirrel scrunched his nose but could not hide the reddening of his face.

You weren’t going to mention it to the boy or tease him about it.

The Monk touched Squirrel’s arm to draw his attention. “I believe you are sitting too close to the fire, your face is getting red.”

The irritated child brushed the Monk’s hand from his arm. “I’m not!”

You scolded the cheeky Monk for it. “Leave him be.”

He in return smirked at you and the boy, but he stopped and ate his meal in silence.

After eating, you saw that the Monk had the discarded surcoat in his hands and was looking at the cross embroidered on it.

He approached the fire and fed the surcoat to it, watching it burn.

You shared a look with Squirrel but kept quiet about it.

An hour passed and darkness had spread it’s wings over the land. Lancelot had chosen a tree to sleep against for himself.

Squirrel was yawning but still walking around and giving the horses some attention.

You could see that the Monk’s eyes were distant again. He was mourning his father figure and burying the agony it brought him.

Part of you wanted to keep a distance, but part of you hated to see the suffering of others.

You were Dawn Folk, it was in your nature to help others.

You collected some linen sheets for yourself and shared a look with Squirrel, who looked back and forth between you and the Monk, you nodded.

With arms full of linen to use for the night, you went over to the tree the Monk had picked out for himself and put your linen sheets down against it too.

He was already sitting against a side of the tree and was about to get up from the grass, you put a hand on his shoulder to halt him.

“Mind if we sit here too?” You asked.

The question might have rattled him a bit, it took two counts before he answered. “I do not.”

Squirrel went to sit at his left side, you took place at his right.

You were already covering yourself with the sheet when you asked, “Am I breaking a rule by sitting next to you?”

There was a short pause before he answered, “No.”

But he was, by not getting up and preventing it.

The scriptures were strict regarding those of the clergy in the presence of women.

You sank back against the tree, nesting yourself under the sheet. “Just to warn you. If I see washed women’s clothing out to dry tomorrow, I intend to borrow some.”

Squirrel chimed in, “Because of the blood on yours?”

The child had not seen the back of your shirt, but the hem of it still showed the proof of the lashing. “Yes.”

The boy fired another question, “Are you going to steal a dress?”

Lancelot knew that these questions could continue for a long time and found himself listening in.

You were not even considering it. “Never.”

The next question came quick, “Why not?”

You rolled your eyes, knowing Squirrel could not see. “Dresses don’t suit me. Besides, it’s hard to fight in a dress. Too much fabric getting in the way.”

Squirrel seemed to agree on it.

The Monk suddenly said, “Careful. Do not cut your fingers.”

You leaned to the side to look past him and saw Squirrel playing with the knife.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have sharpened it so much.” You told the Monk.

He dared to say it, “You’re the one who wanted to give him a knife.”

You glared in the Monk’s direction, then told Squirrel, “Squirrel, put away the knife before you lose your fingers. Try to sleep, alright?”

“Fine.” The grumpy boy mumbled.

You had thought that Squirrel had listened.

Then Lancelot said, “Listen to y/n, Percival.”

Another “Fine.” was the answer he got, and this time the boy listened.

No one said a word for quite a while, and it wasn’t long before you heard Squirrel’s quiet snoring.

You were looking off to the side, trying to let the calmth of the forest calm you too. You sensed that the Monk had shifted his body a little but paid no attention to it.

Not until the Hidden’s faint melodic whispers were in your ears. Strange. You had not heard them sound like this before.

You turned your head and caught him quickly turning his head to look in front of him instead.

Almost had you caught him inhaling your scent. He did not understand why his heart’s pace increased because of it, or why the voices that haunted him were coercing him to do so.

“Did you just smell me?” You whispered a bit uncertain.

You weren’t sure, but you had a feeling that he had done it just now.

“I uhm…,” He paused and then sounded quite embarrassed about it. “I am sorry.”

You blamed it on the lack of change in your attire. “My clothes smell, don’t they? I should have searched in the inn for something else to wear.”

He did not say a word, and you considered getting up and sitting further away.

With his heightened sense of smell, it would be normal if he picked up on certain things quicker than others would.

You pushed back your self-consciousness and asked, “Do you want me to sit somewhere else?”

His answer was a fast and firm, “No.”

“You sure?” You asked.

He was brushing his hands over one another. “I am. Your scent does not bother me.”

It took you a moment to feel confident enough to lean back against the tree again.

And when he was looking at the trees, you discreetly smelled your clothing just to check. You shook the feeling off before insecurity could grow, none of you had been given the chance or time to take a long bath with everything that was going on.

You pulled your sheet up to your chin and turned to your side, away from him, to sleep.

Unlike you, Percival was not afraid to sleep facing his direction. The child had an amount of trust towards him that he wasn’t sure he was worthy off.

Lancelot was the only one still awake, both because he was not used to sleeping close to others, and because he felt responsible to make sure the two of you could sleep safely.

As you and Squirrel slept, the Monk kept watch for as long as his eyes could remain open and focused.

An hour passed, his eyes grew heavy and the quiet breathing surrounding him made sleep all the more alluring.

Then you turned over in your sleep, your hand was put on the bark of the tree to rest, where it slipped off and landed on his arm instead.

It brought him back from the sleepy state he had been in, from reflex he placed his hand over yours. He looked over at you and found you still very much asleep as you reached out for something to hold while you slept.

He lifted his hand from yours again, letting yours stay where it was.

For someone so vigilant, you sure looked a lot less intimidating while asleep.

The next thing he felt was Percival’s foot hitting his leg, the boy had turned over in his sleep as well and far less gentle and careful.

Lancelot did not even realize right away that he was smiling, he leaned back against the tree more and closed his eyes.

This did not feel wrong, it felt like something he had been missing.

A gentle touch, a spark of kindness. A reminder that there was still light and hope in the darkness. And that light came from where he had least expected it.

When he finally was on the brink of falling asleep, he heard something moving through the forest.

The howling that followed was what fully awakened him.

Taglist:

@ourlazydetectivekitten​​ @the-great-adventures-of-me​ @linkpk88​​  @fxrchxldws​​  @elenaoftheturks​​ @slytherlight​​ @beananacake​​    @crystallizedtime​​  @moonlightaura03​​  @angrygardendeer​​  @have-aheart​​   @5am-cigarette​​ @arcanenature​​  @thewinterskywalker​​ @notyourwildestdream​​ @coloursforyourportrait​​ @koressecretidentity​​ @nike90​​ @n1ghtlux​​ @rachlovesactors​​ @luckyzipperscissorsbat​​ @morena-doing-stuff​​  @the-fangirl-diaries​​ @gipsydanger17​​ @heavenly1927​​  @phantasmalbeiing  @labyrinthonmymind  @asarcastic-thiamstan​​  @rainyv-skies @kissingandromeda @stclairesplace @​​katjusja

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story.

[drabbles-n-doodles]

Explanations for the ideas under the cut!

DBD/NPMD crossover:

This one is essentially the boys taking on another case in America to either stop Grace Chasity from continuing the string of murders caused by the Black Book's influence, or forcing Max Jagerman to have a redemption arc, kicking and screaming the whole way. I think Steph and Crystal would mesh well as friends and Pete and Edwin would also get along. Bonding over bow ties, anyone?

Dreamling role swap au:

Literally just a switch where Hob is something akin to one of the Endless and Dream is the immortal human.

New Inn yelp reviews:

I've lost the post that posited this idea (if someone finds it and sends me the link I'll add it in a reblog to give credit where it's due) but it's basically another dreamling fic but told through reviews left about the New Inn and there's so much potential there. So so much.

Dead Boys meet Hob and Dream:

I love the idea of the boys' office being at the new inn and Hob has no idea his inn is technically haunted and chaos ensues when he finally does find out, and also there is nobody that can convince me Hob wouldn't take one look at those kids and not instantly want to look out for them, dead or not, and Dream getting caught up in it because they're both fathers and maybe dream sees a bit of his son in them. The boys need more adults in their afterlives that actually care about them, okay?

[chaoticbardlady99]

Fic requests ❤️: Pair - Spawn Astarion x Female Redemption Dark Urge - Aristen ~High Elf ~Sorcery ~ Storm Sorcery. Generally, I have such a scene in my head, it would be nice if someone described it and developed it. This scene takes place after the events of the game. In short: Aristen hates herself because she was Bhaal's child. She and Astarion are is at the inn, near some cemetery. At some point she learns that that her victims are buried in this cemetery. So she runs out of the inn (it's night and it's raining very hard) and she kneels in front of the cemetery, devastated, crying and whispering to herself that she's a monster. After a few minutes the Astarion comes. Aristen tells him through tears that she is a monster and let his see what she has done. Astarion's goal - comfort her. How? It's the writer's will and idea 🥰. If you need more information about Aristen and her relationship with Astarion, you can find everything here: Their relationship: https://www.tumblr.com/aristenfromwarsaw/763968114225528832?source=share Aristen's background: https://www.tumblr.com/aristenfromwarsaw/761880367691153408?source=share Thank you ! ❤️

Hello! I hope you enjoy and it is close to what you envisioned! I really enjoyed writing this and learning more about their story in the process. Thank you for putting in your request :)

Astarion x F! OC

   Aristen had been having an excellent time with her companions- there was plenty of warm food and drink in their bellies and they are all truly clean for the first time this entire journey.

 Elfsong has been a Gods’ send- to say the least. Aristen has been soaking in every single second and her favorite time of day as of late is bed time. She gets to sink into a soft bed with her lover; her brave, incredible, and exceptionally brilliant lover, every night.

 Astarion has been nothing but loving and supportive this entire journey. He stayed when she killed Alfira- he even called her on it and yet, he kept her secret. Hells- he even helped her hide the body.

 He confessed his feelings to her and then, within 24 hours, she confessed to being on the verge of taking his life.

 Any normal person would run away or kill her, but Astarion sat with her throughout the night and he hasn’t treated her differently ever. 

 They had killed Gortash and now they are helping Karlach nurse her wounds at the bar, but Aristen is only becoming more and more suffocatingly aware of her family and their desire to have a Chosen- a title she doesn’t even want. 

 She hears the whispers of grief and names being thrown around and they all feel so disgustingly familiar that it makes her feel inhuman.

 I killed them, she thinks, swallowing the venom in her throat, I killed that man’s wife, that person’s sister, and their child- all because I wanted to.

 To some extent- she even remembers indulging in the soft flesh their former frames adorned. How it felt against her teeth- the taste of their rich blood on ther tongue and the raw flesh in her mouth.

 It makes her even more repulsed by herself- even more desperate to be rid of these horrible thoughts and the way they make her body feel. 

 All of her companions are laughing and playing a card game, but all Aristen can focus on is the conversation from the table over. 

 A husband dead. A sister gone. A support group of people who lost their loved ones to some sick pervert lurking around Baldur’s Gate and for whatever reason, she knows she is the one who killed them.

 It’s a deep, inner knowing that she can’t shake and the turning in her stomach is too much to bear.

 With the group focused on Karlach and her misery- Aristen slips away and out of the tavern as quickly as she can. She feels suffocated by the crowd of people and the grief that echoes through the inn on all sides.

 Pushing through the doors, Aristen is immediately met with a blast of cold air and the pouring rain and desolate streets greets her like an old friend. 

 She goes hurtling into it’s cold embrace and her shoes slosh through the streets, but it doesn’t deter her frantic pace. Every street feels longer than it needs to be, but she doesn’t even have a destination in mind- absolutely nowhere to be. 

 Her weary feet eventually bring her to the one place she is dreading more than anything and yet, Aristen still collapses at the gate and begins to sob. The sounds are lost to the raging storm and her heart feels like it’s cracking.

 In the sea of Gravestones, Aristen feels more dread and disgust towards herself. She has lost count by the time the guilt completely consumes her.

 All these people, a broken whimper leaves her lips, friends, loved ones, and even strangers. Maybe they were vendors or had lives. A child or two on the way.

 And she took that from them- all of them. 

 She is drenched to her core, shaking and crying, but she doesn’t believe she deserves warmth and comfort- not when she has stolen so much from others. She is a monster- a vulgar, scary, bedtime tale thing and that may just haunt her forever. 

  A heavy, warmer cloak is put over her and she is suddenly being dragged away from the gate to the cover of a building. She doesn’t have to be afraid- she knows that it’s Astarion. She can smell his cologne on his cloak. 

 “I’ve got you, my Love,” he holds her tightly to him, “it’s okay.”

 Her hands twist into his shirt and she sobs against his chest brokenly.

“I-I’m a m-monster,” she whimpers, “I should have never been born.”

 Gentle hands cup her face and she is greeted by ruby red eyes. Sadness is pooling within them, but there is also so much love for her- and only her.

“My love-”

“I killed all those people, Astarion,” she gestures wildly in that direction, “all of those fresh Gravesites? Those are my doing- people had to bury their loved ones and say goodbye to them forever because of me!”

 How could he love someone so broken and monstrous? Aristen is a Bhaalspawn for Gods’ sake and she doesn’t even know what her future holds and if she will be stuck this way forever or not. It’s possible these urges will haunt her for eternity and he deserves better.

   Astarion kisses her sweetly and slowly- she has no idea why he is being so loving. He should be terrified of her- running and screaming at the very least. 

“You saved me,” he rests her forehead against hers, he supports her shaking form the best he can “whether you intended to or not- it doesn’t matter.

“You have been by my side and have never led me astray- I love you and I am not going anywhere. You are no monster, my Love, and I will keep telling you that for all of eternity if I need to.”

 Aristen smiles through her tears and goes to hug him- he happily returns it. They embrace each other for several moments until a crack of lightning and a roar of thunder interrupts them. 

“Come on, Lover,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “I believe we both deserve a nice warm bath- don’t you agree.”

 Instead of answering, she grabs his hand and they begin to run back to Elfsong at a full sprint- the only thing lighting their path is the storm overhead, but Aristen isn’t afraid.

 She knows that whatever comes, her and Astarion will weather the storm together.

[jrooc]

First of Ten

Thank you for the tags @energievie @roryonic @sgtmickeyslaughter @rayrayor @bawlbrayker This game is so fun! And I feel so honoured being tagged by you beautiful writers.

rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

Mickey walked out into the courtyard of his family’s estate and threw the bottle of expensive scotch so hard it shattered against a nearby tree. He relished the destructiveness of it. (Dear Gentle Gallavich Reader)

Mickey walked into the Library and up to the Bar in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters–or the X-Mansion (depending on the time of day)--where the teachers hung out at night. (Wolverine vs. Gallagher)

Mickey saw him across the bar that first time. (I was lost but your fool)

The first time Ian saw him, he was out for a ride with three other friends from his cycling club for a morning road bike ride. (In My Veins Like Lighting)

Ian was hot shit in the kitchen. He knew it and his classmates at culinary school knew it. (If You Can't Stand the Heat)

It had been 8 months. 8 months since Mickey and Ian had reconciled. (Staring at the Sun)

Ian sat outside the Garden Springs Spa, hidden from the entrance in a basement stairwell. His face was throbbing from where Mickey kicked him a few days ago but he was more focused on the pain in his broken heart. (Prosthetic Love)

Mickey wakes up with a gasp. (Redemption Tale)

They get back to the Gallagher house from the Alibi, arms around each other, holding each other up. (Confessions. Post s4E11 Emily)

Ian’s asleep but his phone is buzzing. (Drunk Text)

The Pattern? There’s much walking and sitting. Many actions 😆 The ones I like create intrigue lmao. No dialogue here.. might have to try that. This was a great exercise lol. I learnt things.

Tagging @ms-moonlight-inn @suzy-queued @whatthebodygraspsnot @celestialmickey @thepupperino

@the-rat-wins @goodkwuestion @gallavichgeek @stocious @transmurderbug

@palepinkgoat @mmmichyyy @deedala @notherenewjersey

[cloud-somersault]

don’t think i didn’t notice Wukong’s unfinished thought about how the Celestial court was aware and took note of Macky’s birth despite it being not well known, meaning that Wukong’s actions in keeping MK’s origins unknown are most likely futile and in vain

because i haven’t forgotten 👀 and i have been quietly taking note of this “little star” and how Wukong believed he failed them and that it involved Heaven (maybe) making Wukong more cautious about the Celestial Primate status for MK (aka, “little sky” which is the translation of MK’s Chinese name and is coincidentally similar to little star 👀) but with Heaven already being, assumedly, very aware of MK’s origins, Wukong’s caution would be all for naught

so yeah! don’t think i haven’t ignored this mini thread which i assume will be left open ended for this au

haha, good detective work! Since Wukong heard Macaque's Celestial Record, he now knows what Heaven does and doesn't know about them. The fact that they know about the anomalies is very concerning to Wukong because of MK, yes, but specifically, he doesn't want Heaven to know about MK because of what happened to Little Star.

Throughout Constellations, Wukong often remarks about how Heaven views him, and that applies to all celestial primates. These monkey demons aren't outright vile and beyond redemption, but Heaven is cautious around them/regards them carefully just based on what Wukong did. They know that each one of them is powerful on their own, but together? They're unstoppable.

That's why Wukong and Macaque were tortured separately. They're very cautious when it comes to handling them.

So of course, after Wukong finally figured out that MK was a celestial primate, he does his best to keep MK away from Heaven. In chapter 1, I originally had MK's clones go with Wukong to Heaven to turn in the furnace. I wrote that before the details of this AU were fully planned out, so I went back and edited out that only Wukong's clones went to Heaven.

Wukong essentially wants to keep MK out of Heaven's sights and mind. That's why he never corrects the Jade Emperor when he says that Wukong defeated the Lady Bone Demon; Wukong knows MK was the one to defeat her, but he's letting the Emperor believe it was him to protect MK.

Macaque shares in this protection for obvious reasons, but it's also because of what happened to Little Star. Both Wukong and Macaque are fiercely protective of MK because they don't want history to repeat itself.

As for what happened to Little Star...

Wukong often meditates and goes searching through the cosmos for...something. He says he hasn't found it for over 2,000 years.

The central theme of the fic is the connections we share with each other and how they look like constellations in the sky in how everyone is connected.

Little Star was born from embers, and when they were born, all the stars in the sky burned brighter for a single moment.

Every celestial primate is connected to a celestial body or spacial...object of some kind. Wukong and the sun, Macaque and the moon, MK and the earth and all 6 realms.

Every celestial primate is connected to a season: Wukong and autumn, Macaque and winter, MK and spring, Little Star and summer.

Wukong and Macaque often speak about teaching Little Star things, but Macaque told Wukong at the inn that they never get things right. He tells Wukong when they're getting the lantern piece the hiker has that it's not easy teaching someone. Wukong thinks to himself on the roof of Pigsy's restaurant that if Macaque weren't so full of himself, he wouldn't have to search every time he meditates.

What do you think happened to Little Star?

[silverglass83]

It's FINALLY back!

The Sword and the Hourglass, Part 2 of the “Time of the Hourglass” series has returned! Everything up until now has been reworked and edited. Several chapters were split and a few new were added along with new moodboards, art, and songs. UPDATES TO RESUME SOON!

****Please note that this is a sequel to "The Star and The Hourglass" and the stories are meant to be read in order. Read Part 1 first!****

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24177604/chapters/58229962

Pairing: Raistlin Majere/Original Female Character (Yurielle), Caramon Majere/Tika Waylan Majere Fandom: Dragonlance Rating: Explicit (This fic is mostly Mature themed but I rate it Explicit due to its sexual content - more info in the story's notes) Chapters: 74/? Takes place beginning around, and replacing, the Legends Trilogy

Summary: ~⚔~ On the surface, Caramon Majere has gotten on with his life. He is now a husband, a father, and the proprietor of the Inn of the Last Home in Solace. However, try as he might, he cannot escape the void left behind by his twin. Six years after the war, as the rest of Krynn goes on, the former Hero of the Lance struggles with hidden vices while maintaining the facade his friends and family expect of him… Conversely, Raistlin Majere has freed himself of the Archlich Fistandantilus. But in that void left behind, he faces a new challenge: that of self-identity. Now in Palanthas, the Archmage struggles to remember who he was before his Test as he adjusts to this new life with his Star beside him… Their lives may go on, but memories and lost friendships burn like dying embers in the hearts and minds of these two men. The past is painful and bitter, yet the ashes of their lost kinship may hold the key for the twins to reclaim what they each seek for themselves.

Tags to note: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence | Alternate Timelines | Headcanon | Drama & Romance | Violence | Redemption | Family Issues | Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism | Family Reunion Slow Burn | Domestic Disputes | Codependency | A story in which Raistlin faces the consequences of his actions | And so does Caramon | Caramon's in a really bad place | Brotherly Angst | Brother Bonding | Unresolved anger | Tika is a saint for putting up with him for so long | Fistandantilus doing shady shit in the background | Working through Trauma

[karniss-bg3]

So many went to the absolute for like Power—- reading a lil fic that has the main character wondering if Kar’niss went to the Absolute seeking to be returned to normal. But not getting that, was just happy to be ‘accepted’ (barely).

This could very well be how he ended up in the Absolute's clutches. He knows Nere and it could've been him who pointed Kar'niss in the direction of Moonrise. Desperation is as much a motivator as power, money and sex. I mentioned in another post that I have a theory as to how he became so ruthlessly devout in the first place.

Warning, the rest of this post talks about Minthara's storyline which contains spoilers. Don't read ahead if you haven't completed her story in Act 2.

If you go to straight Moonrise and skip Last Light Inn you meet Ketheric Thorm and if Minthara is still alive or in your party she is confronted by him. To summarize he chides her for failure to secure the artifact protecting Tav and crew and she is handed down the sentence of death.

I am unsure if this cutscenes plays only if certain dialogue trees are chosen or if it happens no matter what. But if she is taken away and you go down to the cells, you find that Minthara is essentially being mind tortured by other cultists. They are tapping into her tadpole and bombarding her with psionic energy to make her break. She is in a lot of pain and parts of her are breaking down in real time.

Tav gets the choice to either save her or let the ritual play out. If the latter is chosen then she becomes completely subservient, broken, an empty shell completely devoted to the Absolute.

My theory is that either Kar'niss willingly went to the Absolute for help or he was somehow captured. No matter which way it is, he's very resistant to being tadpoled. Considering his mind is already broken from the drider transformation he proves to be a bit more difficult to control. He may also still be loyal to Lolth. The mere act of being transformed doesn't always turn driders from Lolth, in some cases it makes them double down in their faith because they don't want to piss Her off again. With any of these factors in mind he's basically an unhinged beast, lashing out and spewing vitriol at his captors.

So they do the only thing they can, the mind breaking ritual. They torment him for hours, days, maybe even weeks depending on how much he continues to fight. Until one day his already fragile mind snaps, he can't take it anymore. He's so desperate for redemption and acceptance and these ritualists have all but convinced him he can only find it with the Absolute. Problem is Kar'niss was already fucked up before he came to them. Rather than him being empty and robotic like Minthara, he turns into the Absolute's biggest fanboy. It's all he can talk about, think about, it becomes an obsession. He convinces himself the voices he hears are the Absolute's, that they care about him, that he has an important mission that only he can fulfill. He's found a new Queen, a new calling.

His second transformation is complete and those at Moonrise couldn't be happier. They now have an obedient drider to control and use as they see fit. Even if his constant droning about "Majesty" does get a bit old after a while. Oh well, take what you can get right?

Thanks for the ask!

[writingforfishes]

you when grav/ty fa//s fanart: https://www.tumblr.com/toxifoxx/759861773456277504/you-put-some-body-fat-on-that-middle-aged-man?source=share

worm regards 👍🥲👍 @worm-writes-hicfics

Where's the lie?!

I see one more skinny/muscular St@n and I will stab somebody with that damn triangle!

istfg

That being said, of all the fandoms GF is the least offensive when it comes to skinny-fying the mains in their fan art.

THERE WAS A SCENE WHERE HE WAS FEEDING HIS TUMMY CRACKERS, FGS!!

There is an ENTIRE scene in the shorts where "Zues" jiggles his belly fat!!

[typicalopposite]

I am hella late on the ask game but that's what happens when i save a post in my drafts for when i get home and then my brain forgets. Clap Your Hands If You Believe: You say something like tinkerbell comes back to life for WWX??? It doesn't sound like you've started writing it yet but do you have more to say about this idea? i am. intrigued. :eyes:

(also the drunk lxc fic? :eyes:)

Ok… SO! The idea was that all (or like a lot of) the cultivators come together and with their combined spiritual power WWX gets back his golden core (while somehow JC still having it or having a part of it or something… this was a very bare foundation idea!) the reasoning around this needing to be done im not sure… maybe he is like wounded orrrr idk! I really want to (and probably need to) finish the show before I start a more serious fic like this! I really have to sit and think so much on it but the idea of JC having to participate in this being that HE has WWX’s golden core was where it spawned from ! Cause ya girls all about a redemption arc 👀

As for drunk LXC fic 😂😂 just.. here’s the plot/prompt I made up for it

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji are in Caiyi Town and LWJ gets drunk. WWX decides instead of taking him home they will stay there so no one know/says anything and he gets embarrassed. He has to BS with the juniors (mainly Jingyi) about something being wrong with him, and so they can’t leave, but once they find an inn LXC shows up. WWX tries to keep him out of the room – even though he knows he wouldn’t really care – for LWJ’s sake, but LWJ gets out of bed and tries to pull the doors open (picture when WWX hears LXC knock he slips through the doors and is blocking them, and once LWJ is up he starts trying to tug them open) He gets out and WWX tries to use the same excuse he used for the Juniors – He’s sick, tired, been drugged is cursed idk – but LXC knows. And does his little Hmm smile and is like ok. He didn’t drink in Cloud Recesses after all, so loophole? they get LWJ back in bed and start talking and this leads to that and LXC has a glass(cup, shot?) for whatever reason LXC doesn’t do whatever it is he does in the show to stop himself from getting drunk but still one is fine and he isn’t affected so WWX is like oh its just LWJ that can’t handle it and he offers another one… and thus drunk LXC shenanigans ensue (with drunk LWJ tagging along and WWX panickingly trying to control them

[vilandel]

🥝🍐🍑

For the fruit writing asks please? Thank you! 🌻

Hello Acacia and thank you for the ask 💙

🥝 What’s your favorite trope/AO3 tag to write? I love writing romance, that is certain, also any kind of fluff, be it domestic or platonic. What I also love are forgiveness and redemption stories (probably why I love the Silvas and especially Nozel so much). Happy Endings are also something I love and if, IF I write angst, never without a happy ending! I could write bittersweet, though, but more in oneshots and less in multi-chapter fics. One tag I start using to love on Ao3 is "Papa Nozel is best Nozel" 🦅

🍐 Is there anything in canon that you absolutely hate and love to fix in fics? A wrong choice made, a fuck-up in characterization, a misunderstanding never cleared up, a conversation never shown onscreen, etc… Hm, probably anything involving the Silvas? Especially Nozel and his path to become a better brother. I also like to think how the teams at the Royal Knights Tournament would have been, what friendships and dynamics. I especially love Finral-Leopold-Hamon and I want to write something about it. Like Hamon visiting the Black Bulls just after the tournament, because he was with Finral on a team (remember how Hamon appreciated Finral) and he certainly felt ashamed about what Langris did. Or how Finral and Leopold would feel about Hamons death. And I certainly would love to make Rill and Charmy realize! There are probably other things, but this is what comes to my mind right now.

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work? If I could, I would love to make crossovers with Black Clover and some of my favorite classics. Remember that I got the idea for Rosette mostly by reading Agatha Christie, so Silvas in an Agatha-Christie like story is something I love to imagine. Or some of my favorite ships in a Jane Austen universe, especially Nozessa, because sometimes I feel like Nozel has a bit something of an Austen hero. Or putting my fav characters in Jules Verne's Journeys. One of my favorite Children Books is The Last Resort by Roberto Innocenti. It tells the story of an artist who lost his imagination and in order to find it again, he ends up in a lonely inn at the sea. Roberto Innocenti is practically self-inserting himself and all the people the hero meets at the inn are basically his favorite authors and fictional characters. I love reading this story especially when I have a writer's block and need to find my own imagination myself. Then, I imagine this story at this inn, while meeting my own favorite authors and characters. You bet that Black Clover is also part of it. I'm always thinking to write something like this myself.

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 20

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: Sweet As Honey

Notes: /

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  20/ It’s a secret.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the morning you awoke well-rested, it had been a long time since you had last felt so at ease. Your former enemy was still asleep, as was the young Fey knight beside you.

At least the boy had moved his arm from your leg, and was now sleeping in such an odd position that you wondered how on earth he could be comfortable that way, but this was Squirrel and everything was possible with him.

While being careful not to wake them, you folded up your sheets and quietly walked over to the horses to put them away in the sack again. Then you collected three potatoes from the satchel and two large carrots. It would be nice to have something for breakfast by the time they awoke.

Carefully you had went and plucked Squirrel’s knife from his cloak’s straps and used it to cut the vegetables. Some melted cheese would fit along with it well. You quietly returned the knife to the boy.

The flint and steel to make a fire was in Goliath’s saddlebag, thankfully.

Now the bowl that Squirrel had taken in the inn came in handy.

You covered the potatoes with the carrots and put cheese on top of it, all that was left to do was make a small fire to prepare it with.

Each time the flint struck the steel, you looked over to see if it had not woken them.

With stones and branches you built a support to place the bowl on top off it, after that it was only a matter of waiting until the meal had baked enough to eat.

Lancelot awoke at the first sign of the aroma hitting the air.

You saw him approach as you sat by the fire in the early dawn and he knelt down beside you.

He dared to jest about it, “I see you are able to make a fire after all.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t make me want to set your cloak on fire and prove it to you once and for all, Ash Man.”

His glance moved to your face, something told you that your threats had the opposite effect on him.

What you had not noticed was how a flame had gotten past a rock and licked one of the branches the bowl was sitting on. The bowl slipped from it when the wood burned to a crisp and fell into the fire. From fear to let this meal go to waste you nearly reached into the flames to retrieve the bowl before it would all be burned.

The Ash Man saw it happen and stopped your hand from going anywhere near the flames, and without thinking of the consequences, he reached into the flames himself and retrieved the bowl. His Ash Folk markings glowed a fiery red at the contact, the Hidden’s whispers made their presence known.

That red fire-like glow distracted you for a blink, then reality kicked in again.

“No!” You were on your knees instantly and pulled at his lower arm to get his hand out off the fire, dreading the damage it had done to his skin.

He put the bowl down, feeling it’s heat still against his skin but the feeling was easy to forget when he saw the concern in your eyes.

You moved his hand closer to you to inspect it, holding it with both hands like it could fall apart at any moment “By the gods, your hand!”

His thoughts were slowed for a moment.

No one had ever shown him this sort of concern. Only Percival. He did not expect it off you.

The sight of seeing you so distressed over his health made him want to comfort you. “I am alright. It’s alright.”

You thought you had gone mad, there was not an inch of burned skin on his hand to be seen. “I saw… but you…”

His voice was as gentle as it could, “I am Ash Folk. Fire cannot burn what is already ash.”

The sudden urge to stick a finger in the fire to see if it was real passed your mind and you fought that out off your head.

His hand was warm, not a mark of the flames was left on it, and that red glow beneath his eyes was gone.

Lancelot’s head tilted a little, like he wished to read your mind.

It was because you were still holding on to his unharmed hand and looking at it like an infant who did not understand the purpose of a rock.

It lasted until he brought his other hand around yours.

Seeing it happen had rattled you, “Fire can’t hurt the Ash Folk?”

He offered the only knowledge he had on it. “I cannot speak for others, only for myself. And I cannot burn.”

Your eyes lifted to his. “I didn’t know that…”

“Burning my cloak will not harm me either.” He smirked.

You pulled your hands free. “A sword still can.”

Leaving him to simmer on that, you looked at the bowl with the meal you had been trying to prepare.

He saw you look a bit doubtful at the bowl. “It’s not burned. I would smell it.”

You felt the bowl and when it didn’t feel too hot to touch you held it up. “Here. Taste it. I’ll wake Squirrel up.”

It was by accident that his fingers grazed over yours as he took the bowl, that is what you told yourself at least.

The boy was reluctant to wake up, until Lancelot walked over and let the scent of the meal go right up Squirrel’s nose, that surely helped.

It wasn’t the greatest meal, but it was a good breakfast. Afterwards, you packed everything up into the sacks again and continued the journey through the forest.

Considering that the three of you had been riding on horseback for days now, it was a nice change to walk through the forest for a while just leading the horses along.

Squirrel took the opportunity to dart around and get rid off some of the build up energy inside of him.

Lancelot walked beside you with Goliath and often had to hold the reins a little firmer when the horse kept trying to walk closer to you.

The loyal creature had not forgotten the attention he had been given by you.

“Can I hold the reins?” Squirrel asked you all of a sudden.

You trusted him enough to hand them to him. “Yes.”

The boy was content to be the one leading the horse for once and you were happy to be able to stroll around freely for a while too.

Fall had begun and leaves were beginning to pile up on the ground, you kicked them around a little.

The encounter with the white stag was still on your mind, and the encounter with the Ash Man afterwards too. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw him turn his head the other direction, you did the same.

The sound of galloping horses disrupted the peaceful forest.

A group in a forest close to Uther’s castle? This was undoubtedly some of his soldiers patrolling.

Lancelot sprung into action and took the reins from Squirrel’s hand to tie them to Goliath’s, he send the horses away before they could be detected.

You ran to Squirrel and grabbed his hand.

The Ash Man took hold of your upper arm and led you to the largest tree in sight.

The tree was so large that you could hide between it’s roots which were half-raised above the soil as they had grown over rocks.

The open space under the tree wasn’t big, but the shadows were dark enough to hide the three of you.

You held Squirrel close against you, keeping his feet from sticking out too far from under the tree.

Lancelot did not react on having you lean into his chest somewhat with your back.

The horses stopped nearby, and you could hear the men talk about the bonfire that had been extinguished not long ago.

Then there was laughter, they didn’t care much.

One was heard excusing himself to the others, who he referred to as ‘soldiers’, to go and relieve himself against a tree.

A quiet hissing reached your ears and when you looked down you saw an adder close to Squirrel’s feet. The boy had noticed it too and was frozen in fear.

You couldn’t grab your sword, Squirrel was half-laying on it and moving him could tempt the snake to bite.

When looking at Lancelot to see if he had noticed, you also noticed how close your face was to his now.

His eyes were fixed on the snake while whispering to the both of you, “Don’t move.”

Easy for him to say, the snake wasn’t getting closer to his legs.

Squirrel squeezed his eyes firmly shut.

The voices of the old gods found their way to where you were hiding. It wasn’t your silent prayers they were responding to, you could feel it.

The green leaf like markings were crawling up his arm as he invited the gods he was taught to forsake. He could feel their presence on his skin ,and the snake suddenly recoiled as if it had been attacked by the wind, it quickly slithered away.

You let out a breath from relief, as did the boy.

The footsteps of the soldiers grew closer and Lancelot kept his hand on the pommel of his longsword.

Should he handle the threat or wait it out?

It would be near impossible to escape or fight if they found him hiding.

You felt Lancelot try to move and get up from under there. You considered it a terrible idea and leaned into him so much that he’d have to push you off of him if he wanted to leave.

“They’ll find us!” He hissed into your ear.

“Stay where you are.” You hissed back.

And so the three of you were stuck there, in that narrow space with limbs starting to cramp up, because after an hour these soldiers still had not left.

Needless to say, that all three of you were bored.

It wasn’t easy to keep Squirrel awake, his snoring would have surely alerted the soldiers to your presence.

The soldiers’ conversation turned to the events they had experienced the night before at the inn where you had rented the basement for the night.

Your hands were covering Squirrel’s ears when you heard it.

Thankfully you weren’t subjected to the revealing discussion for long and you soon heard them depart.

Your leg had fallen asleep and the boy was the first to crawl out from under the tree. You were next and all but dragged your leg behind you.

The Ash Man seemed glad to finally be free of the tree and rubbed at his sore neck. Once it was certain that the soldiers were gone, he whistled for Goliath, who came at his call and brought your horse along.

You untied your horse’s reins from Goliath’s.

“We should go before they think of coming back.” You told Lancelot.

He agreed on that, not willing to be stuck hiding for another hour, so he helped Squirrel get up on Goliath’s saddle.

You rode away from the place, hoping to not encounter soldiers again.

It took some hours to reach the end of the forest, and by midday you were riding in an open field.

A barn you recognized was seen in the distance, home was not far off anymore…

“Squirrel?” You rode closer to them and saw the boy turn his head. “I want you to know that we’re not traveling to a friend. I lied about that because I wasn’t sure if I could trust Lancelot yet.”

The Ash Man was glad that you were honest enough to say it aloud.

“But… where are we going then?” Squirrel was confused.

Lancelot answered it for you, “To her family.”

Not an answer the boy had expected. “To Dawn Folk?”

You were honest and forward about it “Yes. There’s my father and mother. My cousin is a bit younger than you. You’ll be meeting them.”

Squirrel knew it was a delicate question to ask, curiosity won over fear, “Didn’t you say that you couldn’t go home anymore?”

Ouch…

A small sigh slipped out of you. “Well… they won’t be very excited to see me. But it’s the best chance we’ve got.”

And you wouldn’t be staying long enough to anger them further…

The boy had more questions, “Can they heal others too?”

You nodded. “My cousin will still be learning to do so. My parents can’t do it as well as they once used to.”

Squirrel frowned at that, “How come?”

The story of your parents meeting was not a common one. “The Dawn Folk has been hunted and enslaved for a long time now. The Brotherhood once captured my parents when they were young, that is how they met. They were able to escape but their magic had been drained from them so much that it never fully returned.”

It worried the boy to hear how using magic came at a cost, “Can it kill you?”

You admitted it. “It can. It has killed most of the Dawn Folk.”

The crack in Squirrel’s voice twisted your stomach. “I don’t want you to die.”

Lancelot reassured the boy before you could do so. “It will not happen.”

You did not expect him to sound so firm on the matter, and didn’t know how to interpret it. It was like he considered it a personal task to prevent it.

A little stunned, you offered some comfort to those worries Squirrel had. “Not for many years I hope. But remember what the Hidden wants us to know, death is not the end, and I would find you in any life I am given.”

Lancelot saw the boy smile at you in adoration.

He did not know if he should still pray for a life after this one, but he had an idea to what or who it should include to make him want it.

The boy was content with the promise of the Hidden to look after the Fey even in death.

And you prayed they would allow you to live a long life first.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

You had past the barn a while ago and now you could blindly find your way home, it was something the Ash Man could tell, the map was no longer necessary.

The closer you got to home, the more nervous you felt. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t want to turn the other direction a couple of times.

“Nervous?” Lancelot suddenly asked.

You hoped he could relate, “Imagine you had to go back to the Church, how would you feel?”

He answered lightheartedly. “I do not think your parents will wish to see you burn.”

“Don’t give them ideas…” You mumbled under your breath.

The cheeky twit decided to get on your nerves, “Look at it from the bright side. Will you not be seeing Matthew again?”

Your head snapped around and you saw both of them grin. “Ugh. I never should have told the two of you about him.”

Squirrel thought you needed some help with it, “I could tell him that you like him, if you’re too scared to do so?”

You couldn’t even think of how embarrassing it would be to get rejected a second time. “Squirrel, no! Absolutely not!”

The Ash Man could not hold his laugh and turned his head away.

That rotten…

It wasn’t in your nature to just let it go. “This is your fault! Why did you have to-…ugh!”

You steered your horse to ride a little further away from them and heard Lancelot chuckle along with Squirrel.

It wasn’t long before you came along the creek you had often played at as a child, it was shallow enough for the horses to just walk through.

“We’re close.” You informed and hated how your voice shook.

This time Lancelot was more compassionate upon hearing it. “It will all be well, y/n. I believe I will offer enough distraction to spare you from the worst of it.”

Well, you didn’t want him to be on the receiving end of the possible outrage. “It doesn’t make me feel better to think that you might be riding into danger. There will be other Feys there, Lancelot.”

He was quiet for a moment, as if he needed to process the fact that you were worried for his safety.

“We’ll tell them he’s one of us.” Squirrel chimed in.

You looked at Squirrel. “We’ll have to.” Then send a sympathetic look at Lancelot. “Hide your face in that hood until we are with my parents, Ash Man. Do not take risks. Please?”

You hated to ask this of him, but the markings beneath his eyes would reveal his past to the Fey.

He was not insulted by the request. “Fear not. I will do as you ask.”

It was a relief to hear. “Thank you. And I am sorry, I wish you did not have to.”

He shook his head slightly. “No one to blame but myself for this.”

You still could not hide that you felt bad over it, he was trying and here you were reminding him of the fact that the Fey will not be welcoming to him.

The silence that had fallen between you was palpable and lasted until your home came into sight past the trees up on the hill.

You pointed in it’s direction. “That’s where we are heading. Up on that hill.”

Lancelot looked where you were pointing at, “Behind the fort?”

“No. We are heading to the fort.” You said.

The Ash Man and the boy looked at you dumbfounded.

This was not something you had mentioned…

“You lived in a castle?!?” Squirrel was flabbergasted.

To you it was just home, a big home that was true, but it was not something you flaunted with. “It was the court of the Dawn Folk, it was passed down to my family after the last king died. My father was once a knight of the Fey.”

The boy asked, “Why is he no longer a knight?”

You got a bit quiet. “He abandoned the title after the Dawn King was murdered by the former leader of the Brotherhood in battle years ago. My father tried to save the king but could not, so he returned the fort alone and without his title.”

Lancelot questioned why the fort was left unclaimed by the Church until it dawned on him. “We were never given orders to come here…”

The Church would never have been given the authority for it, the Holy Father would not risk crossing two kings so gravely.

You explained the reason for it. “Because this is not part of Uther’s kingdom, it is King Cenred’s. Uther is not foolish enough to try and take the land of another king, especially not Cenred’s, they are at a peace treaty with each other but the tension remains. If the Church attacks the fort or it’s people, Cenred will send his army to answer for it. This is not about the Fey, this is about power and land to him. Not even Uther’s soldiers are permitted to enter the forest ahead.”

Ah, yes. It was well known that King Cenred did not care what the Fey or druids did in his kingdom as long as it did not cause him any problems. Therefore it was also considered a dangerous land because of rogue druids, uncontrolled magic and dangerous woods.

It was almost amusing to him how a building could lead to war and he pointed it out, “That fort is on the border of causing war between two kings.”

You hummed with a smile. “The Dawn King loved the idea of tormenting the Church. So close, yet still untouchable.”

Lancelot hoped there would be no more surprises, “Is there anything else we should know before we go further?”

There was…

This was the part that worried you the most considering you were traveling with the former Weeping Monk.

You looked at him with compassion. “It’s not just my family who lives up there, all Fey are welcome. But my father is the one who is in control of the castle and the rules to live there. To get to the fort, we will have to go through a small Fey village too.”

He sighed and got off of his horse. “I should not travel further like this.”

It confused you greatly, he had been so insistent to meet your parents before…

“What do you mean?” You asked while Squirrel looked as confused as you were.

Lancelot took a linen sheet out of the sack and tore a long piece from it, he proceeded to bind it around half of his face like a veil.

This make-shift veil hid all from sight except his eyes, and even they were hard to see now between the shadows of his hood and the veil.

He mounted Goliath again and ignored the quirk in Squirrel’s brow that was aimed at him. “This will offer some anonymity.”

You weren’t smiling like the boy was. “I’m sorry you have to do this, Lancelot.”

He shook his head slightly. “What matters now is that we get there safely. I will do what is necessary to ensure it.”

You only felt a little better when his eyes found yours and he gave a slow nod. “If it is alright with you, I will lead the way from here. I know where the village starts and we should not be riding into it without announcing we are Fey to the ones keeping watch on the place.”

He agreed to it. “Very well. I do hope you have told me all there is to know, it would be unfortunate to learn we have been traveling with a Fey princess beyond our knowledge.”

You began to ride again and resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. “I’m not a princess, Ash Man.”

He actually dared to say it. “As I thought.”

Even Squirrel could tell that the tall oaf was saying it just to rile you up, and he turned his head to face him as if it were to scold.

Since when did he find such joy in getting you angry?!?

You weren’t going to ignore the comment, “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I can’t be a princess?!”

It was Squirrel who gave the unexpected lovely answer. “You look like one.”

“I-” Your anger was gone in a flash.

Even Lancelot looked stunned by the boy’s compliment.

You almost believed your ears were playing games, “I… look… like one?”

Squirrel nodded as if there was no doubt in his mind, then he turned his head again to look the tall oaf right in the eye, “She does, doesn’t she?”

Expecting another foolish answer from the Ash Man, you turned your eyes away from them.

The boy gave his stubborn friend a nudge in the side with his elbow and whispered, “Tell her!”

Would it not cross a line to speak of his opinion on your appearance?

He felt his past prevent him from doing so.

Squirrel was disappointed at the persistent silence coming from him.

You ignored it, the Ash Man was not the sort of person to put attention on a woman’s appearance, he had been a monk most of his life so it came as no surprise.

But you did appreciate the sweet compliment you had received. “Thank you, Squirrel. It’s sweet that you think so.”

You rode closer and brushed your index finger to his cheek, seeing it turn red a bit in return.

“Y/n.” Lancelot pulled your attention and pointed at a tree.

A Fey sign was hidden between the branches of a tree, it was meant to give directions to Fey who did not know the way.

You saw it too. “We’re getting close. Ride slow and follow me.”

The deeper you went into the forest to reach the hill, the more Fey signs you encountered. They were made of branches and rope, using everything nature had to offer to create the signs.

The scent of Fey grew stronger and stronger.

By now he could find them blindly if he wished to.

After minutes of riding, you slowed down and told them it was better to dismount before going further.

You made sure to walk close to Lancelot, Squirrel would be safe here but if they realized who else had come along…

Faun archers were in their wooden build hideout in the trees. Only those of the village knew of their presence and their task to guard the village from outsiders.

This was how it had always been in the old villages before they were burned out off existence.

You stopped before getting too close to the trees they were in and shouted, “Born in the dawn!”

With bows in hand, they came out of hiding and looked down at where you were.

Some of them recognized you right away and you could hear them say ‘Dawn Folk’.

One of them gestured for you to get closer.

“And who is with you?” A Faun woman called out.

You just said, “Feys.”

A Faun man said to her, “That’s definitely her.”

She seemed to agree on that. “You know the way, Dawn Woman.”

That you did…

They let the three of you continue on your path without a problem.

The familiar place was in sight now and you grew more nervous by the second.

This Fey village was modest, but well build into the forest compared to the many other Fey camps. It was spared from the Church’s brutality on the Fey.

There were houses build of stone and wood, in all kinds of shapes. Some had their homes in the caves and tents scattered around the forest.

It wasn’t much but it was cozy, it was home.

From what he could see, this community was closely tied together. And the presence of strangers was instantly noticed upon arrival.

Youwere greeted by people who recognized you, and acknowledged it without getting close to them and leaving the Ash Man’s side.

Did you think he would not notice how close you walked now? If they recognized him, you were the only thing standing between him and an angry mob. It was a thought he did not like in the slightest.

“It’s the summoner!” People said among each other.

Even without having accepted he Hidden’s offer, the title was still bestowed on you.

Whenever someone got close, you took a step in front of Squirrel and Lancelot to shield them from curious eyes.

You walked a little faster through the village, then your feet froze on the spot at the sight of him.

Matthew was speaking to a merchant and turned his head when hearing those around him speaking off the summoner all of a sudden.

Those honey colored eyes were on you right away and you didn’t know where to look.

You cursed under your breath and Lancelot was the only one to hear.

“What’s wrong?” He feared someone had recognized him.

Nerves crashed into you. “Matthew is walking over to us.”

The concern in the Ash Man’s eyes changed into something else, he scanned his surroundings to spot the man approaching you.

“Let me do the talking.” You told both Squirrel and him.

Squirrel was quite curious to see what the fuss about this Matthew was about.

He could already smell that the man was Sky Folk.

Matthew stopped a few paces in front of you, eyes drifting over you until they landed on your face. “Well, well, if it isn’t our summoner. Welcome back, y/n.”

You were tongue tied for a second but managed to find your voice to greet him. “Matthew. It’s been a while.”

“Far too long.” He said. “You brought… friends?”

Matthew looked past you to Squirrel and Lancelot.

It was the first time you had referred to them as such. “Uhm… yes.”

Matthew looked at Lancelot a moment longer before fixing his eyes on you again, “I’m guessing you are here to see your parents?”

Your voice grew small. “I am.”

He send you a compassionate look, as if he knew that you were walking towards the lion’s den. “I am sure your mother and cousin will be as glad to see you as I am.”

But your father was another thing…

“Let’s hope so.” You gave a small smile.

Matthew stepped closer and, for the first time since you had known him, embraced you.

You didn’t know how to respond and kept your arms at your sides until your mind caught up with what was happening, only then did you shyly put a hand on his shoulder.

Something made him release you quite quickly.

“Where are my manners…” Matthew reached a hand out to Squirrel. “I am Matthew, what’s your name?”

Squirrel arched a brow, weary of strangers. “Squirrel.”

The way the boy arched his brow was familiar to you, he was picking up habits that the Ash Man had.

When Squirrel showed no intention to shake his hand, Matthew offered it to Lancelot next.

“And you are?” He asked.

Lancelot’s reaction was far more expressive as he declined to shake hands as well.

It was no surprise that he refused to do so, he was not the hand-shaking kind, not to strangers at least.

Matthew withdrew his hand and looked to you for an answer.

“This is Lancelot.” You gestured to the stubborn Ash Man.

“Good to meet you.” Matthew said to the both of them, then turned to you. “Mind if I walk you home then, like I sometimes did?”

You ignored the side-eye from Lancelot and accepted the offer. “That would be lovely.”

Lancelot’s eyes snapped to the side, like he resisted the urge to roll them.

And so began the walk to and up the hill that led you home.

“Where did your friend find his sword?” Matthew asked at the start of the hill.

He did not ask Lancelot directly, considering not a word came from him.

Had you heard the change in the man’s tone as well?

By reflex you looked at the sword in question, the one that still bore the cross…

The sword stood out far more than the one you had.

Lancelot answered, sounding quite annoyed that he was not asked directly. “In the hands of a dead man.”

Whether Matthew believed it or not, he cared little.

Matthew seemed glad that Lancelot had finally spoken, “Oh. May I ask why you hide your face?”

All these questions…

You worried that Matthew suspected something. “He has a very sensitive nose. Some smells make him nauseous. How has my family been?”

Well, it wasn’t a complete lie and you hoped speaking of your family would distract him off it.

Matthew could probably tell that you wanted to divert the conversation away from Lancelot. “Your cousin behaved quite rude right after you left. I think he was angry at your father. But he became better, and grew quite a bit. I believe he’s almost as tall as young Squirrel with you.”

You barely dared to ask, “And my mother?”

He struggled to say it. “Mirena… she uhm… it broke her heart.”

Hearing it broke your own and made you fell silent.

Matthew noticed. “She is a strong woman and always believed you’d come back one day. I think she understood why you left.”

Lancelot walked only a few steps behind you with Squirrel and could hear all.

He could see how much it took from you to not show the heartbreak you felt upon hearing the news of your mother’s reaction to your departure.

The Ash Man caught up with you and touched the back of your arm lightly to get your attention. “If you do not want to go through with this, we will turn back.”

After coming all this way he would just turn back if that was what you wanted?

Your eyes found his. “I owe it to my mother and cousin.”

And to Squirrel… especially to him.

It felt so hard to believe Lancelot would not be disappointed in you, “You wouldn’t be angry for making you come all this way and then having to just turn back?”

He did not look away from you. “I would not.”

It was baffling to hear.

“Thank you.” You quietly said. “I will continue, but it is nice to know that you are at my side regardless.”

With a slight tilt of his head, he acknowledged your choice to continue.

Matthew gestured to resume the walk up the hill. “Don’t be nervous. I’m sure your father will be glad to see you as well.”

You highly doubted that. “It’s alright. You don’t have to lie.”

He seemed almost relieved. “Thank the gods.”

You did smile at his reaction, but it was clear that he was trying to make you feel better instead of telling you the truth and you didn’t know whether you liked it or not.

It was nice of him, but… you’d appreciate it more to go on ahead with knowledge of the true situation up in the fort.

But Matthew was sparing you, and heavens only knew how your father would truly react once you got there.

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[archangelsunited]

Foul Redemption

Hey! Look I am responding to tags again! Hurrah! Tagged by @mareenavee Tagging: @kookaburra1701 @orfeoarte @gilgamish @thana-topsy @changelingsandothernonsense @tallmatcha @snippetsrus @rainpebble3 @rhiannon1199 @inquisition-dragonborn @the-storytellers-seer @thequeenofthewinter @elfinismsarts @paraparadigm @friend-of-giants @saltymaplesyrup @weirdponytail @ms-katonic-of-tamriel

Rules: Revisit an old fic (or earlier chapters of your current WIP) and share a snip from:

  Your first chapter:

    The blood had drained from Rikke’s face and Falk looked taken aback. Elisif felt like she couldn’t breathe. There was a taste of nightshade on her tongue and her fingers wished to twitch. Her eyes cut towards the General, imaginig him standing still enough for her to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze- to watch despair enter his eyes the way she was despairing. There was no chance of the Dragonborn not coming for her throne with Ulfric. Tullius’s wish to end the war early had doomed the Empire to failure in Skyrim.

 Your favorite chapter:

 “Because of poor Cicero?” Cicero cackled. “No! Cicero has only been traveling with Elisif for a mere fraction of the time. But we have seen many people, and many people have seen the Jarl of Solitude- the High Queen even! They have not given her a second glance.”

              “Seems like the ideal solution was to drop her off at an inn and ‘arrange’ for the bounty to be picked up.” Astrid tilted her head.

              “Cicero was going to! Cicero was not inside the inn for five minutes. There was a werewolf and Elisif was off into the woods!” Cicero threw up his hands. “And now Astrid has been so kind as to bring her inside a sanctuary.”

              “You like this girl?” Astrid waved a hand as if bringing a victim inside the sanctuary was in any way sane.

              “Cicero is fond, he supposes. But more importantly, the girl OWES Cicero. Cicero has kept her safe. Cicero has shared food! Gold! Cicero has even helped her with her boots.”

              “They must have been in pretty bad shape if that was a ‘fixed’ version.” Astrid’s voice turned dry.

              “Cicero thanks his sister for not questioning his skills. Yes, Cicero could only do so much. They were terrible. But if Cicero is not getting a coin from poor Elisif, Cicero must get something else.”

              “You want her as a recruit? She’s wanted all over Skyrim.”

              “This is nothing new.” Cicero wanted to screech, but he knew he was throwing away a lot of his pre-determined goodwill with this. “She was able to speak naked to someone who knew her as a child. Their friend, nor they noticed she was naked- nor connected her to the Jarl of Solitude.”

              “You think she has the Night Mother’s Blessing?” Astrid looked a bit unsure. “It’s been years since the Night Mother has-”

              “Cicero is never noticed unless he wishes to be.” Cicero pointed out. “Does the Speaker think Cicero’s outfit is subtle?”

 Your most challenging chapter:

“What are you planning on doing, High Queen.” The smith seemed to be speaking for them.

Elisif tilted her head. “Doing? I was ousted from my position. Why have you not elected a new leader?” There was a small uproar at this.

“Who would you suggest? No one is standing up to the Empire; everyone in Solitude knows that if we upset them, our trade will be cut off.” Sayma pointed out. Her cheeks were thin in a way they were never supposed to be.

“It’s already cut off.” Elisif pointed out. “The Empire is effectively just draining Solitude. It can’t get access to the Reach, Windhelm, the Rift, or Winterhold.”

The merchants looked at each other like this had never occurred to them. Elisif understood. Hope was sometimes damning. The assurance that things would get better if you just stuck it out drained you until you no longer realized when that hope lied and you were walking dead.

“You are in the odd position.” Elisif said, “Of having nothing to lose and everything to gain. They aren’t sharing food, but there are fish and horkers outside this gate. You have no medicine- but all the ingredients are outside this gate.”

“There are also enemies outside this gate.” Morrard looked uncomfortable, her hands red and swollen. She must not be able to get good ingredients anymore. Elisif thought. She’s substituting Nirnroot for other things.

“If I can survive outside the gates of Solitude, so can the rest of you.” Elisif said, not backing down. “You have guards who can wield a bow or a sword? Take them with you.” Elisif looked to the two guards who had lead her out of prison. They sat in the back, silent.

“Half of us have been kicked out of our stores and-” Onis started.

“Take them back.” Elisif said. “If you are looking for an armed force to come and take them back for you, you will die waiting.”