#cheating the dread wolf

[soiasan]

blog mostly set up, now time for tag spam !

[angrykittybarbarian]

About that Dragon Age: The Veilguard audio web series

Thinking back about the marketing for DATV I now realize it was kind of deceptive.

No, it was not literal fraud. They did not make specific promises and then broke them, not explicitely and in a way you could hold them liable in court over. And I get when you are advertising your product you will of course highlight its most favorable aspects while not shoving its negative sides into everyone's noses.

However I do think that EA/Bioware did stretch out the boundaries between regular endorsement and fraud.

It started with the web series Vows and Vengeance they uploaded weekly on Youtube right before release. At that time I was still hopeful and excited for the game. And Vows and Vengeance all but encouraged that excitement.

You know why? Because, and this surprised me, it was genuinely good.

Vows and Vengeance functioned as an early introduction to the companions. While they were not the main characters they did play a key role in each episode. The plot was what could be typically expected from a regular DA installment. It had a dark, gripping story. The dialogue was well written. It dealt with mature themes, it actually discussed the classism of Tevinter.

Lucanis was a proper crow who killed a good man because he was hired to do so. He was positively morally grey. Davrin had actually strong opinions when the main character dropped the Dread Wolf's name. Bellara was interesting in that it became clear how she struggled with her ADHD without using infantile language, Scout Harding acted smart, mature and competent, Taash was a morally grey bad ass, fitting for a freelance treasure hunter and with smart and witty dialogue to go with it.

It was amazing, I found myself excited every week for a new episode. It got me interested in the companions. I already contemplated to romance Taash because they were so cool and charismatic in that series. I thought, if a FREE webseries that was made for advertisement was already this great then the game had to be nothing short of phenomenal.

And then it just...wasn't. There was nothing of the depth that came through in the web series. It was as if I was presented with a sample of a multilayered chocolate cake but got a dry brownie after I actually paid the full price for it.

The sheer audacity behind this course of action is still so inconcievable to me, I sometimes still wonder why they put effort into writing the free thing and not the product they demand payment for. I still don't get it. The only explanation is they purposefully put out a misleading sample to lure in the customers in the beginning to spend money, right?

This fraud adjacent behavior does not stop there.

Remember when we thought we would be importing our worldstates from our previous games? There wasn't even a question about it in the beginning because this is such an intrinsic Bioware feature. But then the info about the three choices in the character creator leaked.

Leaked!

Meaning they never intended for this information to be known pre-release. They fully intended to keep it secret until it would be too late. They also never said they wanted a soft reboot.

This is the conclusion the fandom has drawn after they destroyed their own lore and went scorched earth on the entire south of Thedas.

And the biggesr lie was when they said this was their best work. After all this!

This is the reason why DATV's shortcomings are so devastating. This is why so many feel like the game was a slap to their faces. EA/Bioware gaslit and manipulated us from the very beginning. We have been cheated and betrayed.

The last bit of trust I and many others had in Bioware, they mercilessly crushed.

I personally will never take even one thing they say at face value again. You can only trust their actions from now on.

[fangirl-writes]

It's a wolf thing

Jacob Black x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, violence, canon-level things

Request: Jacob Black x fem! reader, where reader is dating Jacob, and he is getting more distant towards reader. Bella and Jacob are getting really close so she thinks he is cheating on her with Bella. Reader goes to school, and confronts Bella about it, and Bella tells Jacob. Jacob then yells at reader and reader asks him "Do you still love me?" and then Jacob breaks down and cries, and tells her that he became a shapeshifter. You can finish the rest!

Notes: Jakey really needed a girl to get his mind off Bella; shame that the author decided that girl should be an infant. Anyway-

PS: I went a little bit of a different route than the request, but only slightly. The main beats are still there. Hope you like!

You weren't worried before.

You'd been dating Jacob for a while before Bella moved back to town, and really, what did you have to worry about?

Bella was nice, a bit awkward, sure, but nice. She didn't seem interested in Jacob and, since they didn't go to the same school, they didn't interact with much.

She was with Edward, you were with Jacob, that was that.

Until.

That dreaded word “until.”

Until Edward and the other Cullens left town.

Until she came hauling a motorbike in the back of her truck.

Until Jacob started spending all his free time with her, instead of you.

"Hey," you said, walking into the garage where Jake was crouched by the motorbike and Bella was sat next to him.

Your hands were in the pockets of your jacket, feeling like you'd just interrupted something, even though the guy in the room was your boyfriend.

"Hey, babe," Jacob replied, grinning at you.

"Hey," Bella replied in her usual soft way.

"Bike almost done?" you asked.

"Yeah, I think she's about ready for a test drive," Jacob replied, standing up and wiping his hands a rag. "What do you say, Bella? Ready to give it a go?"

"Sure," she said with a non-commital shurg. "Let's load em up."

Jacob walked over to you, smiling and kissed your temple. "You wanna ride along?"

"If that's okay with Bella."

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?"

You shrugged, trying to sweep the pit in the middle of your stomach under the rug.

"Bella, it's okay if Y/N rides along, right?" Jacob asked, walking back over to help her wheel the bikes out to her truck.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Bella replied, smiling a little at you.

Jacob gave you a look that clearly said "see?"

"Thanks," you said, following them out of the garage.

Jacob lifted both bikes into the back of the truck easily, like they weighed nothing.

It made you shake your head and laugh when he did a few extra lift ups to impress you.

See? You're being silly. You have nothing to worry about, you thought.

You hopped in the truck, taking up the middle space between Jacob in the passenger and Bella in the drivers seat.

It was a mostly silent ride to wherever Jake had decided would be good for a test run, but he soon turned it serious with one question.

"If I had told you I couldn't fix these bikes, what would you have said?" he asked.

It was a question you knew to have been nagging at him for a while.

He and Bella weren't exactly close before this project, so why had she come to him?

You wanted the answer almost as badly as he did.

"Are you doubting your mad skills?" Bella replied, jokingly.

"No. Definitely not," Jake said, smirking. "I mean, they'll run fine. It just, uh..."

He glanced at you on the trail off.

"Maybe if I was smart I would have dragged out the rebuild a bit."

That struck you.

"If you told me you couldn't fix these bikes, I would say that that's really too bad, but we're just gonna have to find something else to do," Bella said, a little laugh in her voice.

You, however, weren't laughing.

What had he meant by that? By dragging it out?

"Is that Sam Uley?" Bella asked as they drove by the jumping cliffs.

"Yeah," Jacob replied. "Him and his cult."

You gave him a look and he shrugged. "What? It's true."

"Oh my god," Bella pulled over as one of the members of Sam's group was practically pushed off the edge of the cliff.

The reaction made Jacob (and you this time) laugh.

"They're not really fighitng, Bella," Jacob assured her. "They're cliff diving. Scary as hell, but a total rush."

"A rush?" she asked.

"Most of us jump from lower down," you said. "We leave the showing off to Sam and his disciples."

Bella, reassured that no one was in serious danger, turned back towards her truck. "You guys have some kind of beef with him or something?"

Jacob tossed his head. "I don't know. They just think they run this place."

"Embry used to call them hall monitors on steroids," you remembered, smiling.

"Now look at him."

"That's Embry?" Bella asked.

She'd met him and Quil a few weeks ago at one of the bike repair meetings, back before he was with Sam.

"What happened to him?" Bella asked.

"He missed some school," you explained. "Cut his hair, got a weird tattoo."

"Now all of the sudden, he started following Sam around like a little puppy," Jacob added, frowning. "Same thing happened with Paul and Jared."

Jacob had mentioned that Sam had been keeping an eye on him lately. Like he was waiting for him or something.

It was freaky.

It was like he was next.

Bella straddled the bike, adjusting herself and wrapping her hands around the handles.

"You look like you're scared," Jacob said.

"I'm not," Bella replied.

You were perched on the edge of Bella's truck bed, watching from a safe distance.

Dirt bikes weren't really your thing and it was their project.

As much as the jealousy monster clawed at your insides, you wouldn't let it win. There wasn't a reason.

Not yet.

Bella reved the bike after Jake showed her the controls, but she seemed distracted.

"You sure she's good to do this?" you asked him as she took off.

"I don't know," he replied, watching her go. "Something's off."

He was proven right as Bella swerved, unable to hit the brake before she was careening over the handlebars and rolling into a stone.

"Oh, shit," you said, hopping up as Jacob used the other bike to speed over to her.

You followed, slower, obviously, stopping only to stare dumbfounded at your boyfriend when he swung off his shirt to tend to Bella's head wound.

What, he couldn't have tore the shirt or something? There wasn't a rag in the truck? What the fuck?

By the time you reached them, they were already walking back. Jake's hand was on Bella's waist and she was leaning on him.

"You okay?" you asked her.

"Fine," she replied, though from the blood still fresh on her forehead, you guessed you were done for the day.

You glanced at Jacob, but he wasn't looking at you. His focus was on her.

A few days later, he said he was going to see a movie with her and some of her friends. Some action flick you knew you wouldn't have the stomach for, so you stayed home.

Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea.

You should've asked him to stay with you, fake something you wanted to do with him that night.

Would he have stayed with you when Bella was on the table?

And when he came back he was angry.

You stopped by his house, wanting to see him after the movie, but he was practically boiling when he got there.

"Woah there tiger, you okay?" you asked when he stormed into his room.

He froze when he saw you, an unknown emotion crossing over his features as he stared at you.

"What is there something on my face?" you asked after a beat.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, grabbing at his head.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned. "What I can't just stop by anymore? You are still my boyfriend right?"

"Get out," he said.

"What the hell?" You said, getting up from your slouched position on his bed when he turned away from you. "Did something happen? Hey, talk to me-"

"Stop! Just stop," he replied, pushing your hand off of him. "Get out. Now."

"Why?"

"Becuase I asked you to."

He was breathing heavily, his skin was hot to the touch, and he was starting to sweat.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Y/N, just leave!"

Taken aback by his anger and not feeling like fighting, you relented. "Fine. Call me when you decide to stop being an asshole."

But he didn't.

In fact, he stopped answering your calls, texts, everything. Every time you went to his house, his dad said he wasn't there. He wasn't at school, he didn't go to group hangouts anymore.

You were starting to get worried.

At first you just thought this was a breakup. That he'd finally decided he wanted Bella more than he wanted you. That he switched schools and was spending every breathing moment he could with her.

So, you decided to confront her. Ask her what the hell kind of game she was playing at. And if he was there, better yet, you could yell at him to.

You slammed the door of your car, storming up to Bella's truck where she was perched, talking to some Forks kids.

"Hey!"

She turned, surprised to see you.

"Where's Jacob?"

"What?" she asked, dumbly.

"Is he with you? I haven't seen him in weeks. He won't return any of my calls. He's gone completely cold, so I'll ask again, is he with you?"

You were seething. You wanted to see the words come out of her mouth, for her to confess that she'd wanted him all to herself.

But she didn't.

Instead, she said, "You too?"

You were slightly relieved to find out you weren't the only one that Jacob had ghosted.

And with a quick conversation, Bella assured you that she just wanted Jacob's friendship and nothing else.

Now all you had to worry about was where the hell your boyfriend was.

You caught him at his house one afternoon in the pouring rain, almost not recognizing the boy who froze when you yelled his name.

You stormed up to him, soaked to the bone and freezing, but he stood there, stone-faced and shirtless.

"Where have you been?" you shouted. "You cut your hair, you got that stupid tattoo. What Sam finally got his claws in you too?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Y/N," he replied.

"I don't?" you asked, angrily. "Cause you look just like every other cronie in Sam's cult. He have a no girlfriend rule or something or was ignoring me just easier than breaking up with me?"

"Go away, Y/N," he said instead of answering.

"Hey!" you shouted, grabbing his arm when he tried to turn away from you. "Talk to me! If you need help-"

"I don't need your help."

"And you need Sam's?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He scoffed, shrugging out of your grip. "Go away."

"No!" you stomped forward as he started to move away. "Don't you still love me?"

He froze.

"Or was that just some bullshit you thought you could say to get in my pants?"

"Stop," he said, turning to face you again. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like, Jake?" you asked, throwing your arms out. "I don't know cause you won't talk to me! I'm out here in the goddamn rain right now for you and you won't tell me anything!"

Shouts from over Jacob's shoulder got your attention and you saw Sam, Embry, Paul, and Jared standing by the treeline.

"Tell me something," you pleaded. "Anything, Jake, please. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "Which is why it's better if we- if I..."

He sighed. "Go inside. My dad's there, you can dry off...I'll be back later, okay?"

"And then? You'll talk to me?"

"Yes. Now go."

You didn't stop him when he turned away this time.

Blinking away the rain and the tears to see him running into the trees with Sam and the others.

Billy offered you a towel and an apology when you went inside.

You grabbed some of Jake's old clothes and put your wet ones in the dryer.

Then, Billy, trying to break the ice, started telling you some of the tribe's old legends.

Wolves.

Jacob came back later, after the rain stopped, to find you and his dad talking, questions flowing out of your mouth.

"Well, this is cozy," he said, strolling casually in the room.

You looked at him, still a little upset with him.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Finally?" you asked back, standing.

Billy and Jacob exchanged a look as you passed him on the way to his room.

"You sure about this, son?"

"She won't tell," he replied. "And...Sam said I could. You know why."

Billy nodded sagely, resigned to his son's decision.

Jacob turned to follow you.

You made it to his room first, sitting yourself down on his bed.

He sauntered in soon after, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," he said.

You raised an eyebrow. "Hey?"

"So, dad buttered you up for the truth?" he asked, coming to sit next to him.

"And the truth would be?"

He sighed. "When I tell you this, you're going to think I'm crazy. But I promise that I'm not."

You turned your head slightly, questioningly. "Okay..."

"All these...changes," he started. "They're not...choices."

"What."

"I mean that they're...better for me to have."

"Jacob, you better get to the point or I'm going to slap you."

He huffed out a laugh. "All right, all right. Um. I'm...I'm a werewolf."

"What?"

"Everyone in Sam's pack is. He's the leader."

"Jacob Black you'd better not be fucking with me right now."

"I'm not!" he said. "Ask my dad, ask Sam."

You shook your head in disbelief.

You'd always known Forks was a sort of beacon of strange happenings. The "bear" attacks, the destroyed dance studio last year, other things over the years. Living there your whole life, you start to pick up on that stuff.

Not closely, enough, apparently.

"And...this is a tribe secret?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Er..." he bit his lip. "Cause you're...kind of my soulmate."

"I'm what?"

He laughed, a bigger, happier laugh than you'd heard out of him in a while.

"It's called imprinting. Every wolf has one and, well, I found out you were mine the same night I shifted for the first time," he said.

"When was that?"

"The night I came back from the movies with Bella. Remember how I was all angry and hot?"

"Yeah."

"It was the wolf in me trying to come out. After you left I had to practically jump out of my window to avoid destorying the house."

"I bet Billy would've been thrilled with that," you said, laughing.

Jacob laughed to, leaning in to hug you. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this shit. I thought...I thought it would be easier if I just...waited. But you've never been patient so I should've known that wouldn't work."

You smacked his still bare chest.

He smiled.

"This is a lot to take in," you said.

"I know. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

You reached up to cart your fingers through his hair. "I miss the long hair. But I can't complain about the abs, and the tattoo is kind of hot."

He snorted. "Thanks."

"Is the...warmth all a part of the wolf thing, too? Or is that just you."

He chuckled. "It's a wolf thing."

You hummed. "Well, I've never complained about that part. Tell your ancestors thanks for that."

"I'll get right on it," he said, smiling.

The two of you laid down then, snuggling up on his small bed.

"So. I have a werewolf boyfriend."

"That you do."

"A soulmate werewolf boyfriend."

"You're not gonna let this go ever, are you?"

"Nope. Get used to it, wolf boy."

He groaned. "Do not start with the nicknames."

"Oh, no, I've got a whole list I'm excited to test out on everyone. Think Embry would like dog breath? Ooh, or butt sniffer?"

Jacob rolled on top of you, practically smothering you, which only made you laugh.

He sighed, lifting himself up to look at you. "I really do love you. You know that right? I didn't just say it that time because-"

"Hey," you said, reaching up to cup his face. "I know. And thank you. For telling me the truth. I, uh, I kind of thought you were cheating on me with Bella."

Jacob laughed. "With Bella? I knew you were jealous."

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Oh, you're gonna get it now, wolf boy," you said, pushing him off of you and taking the upper hand.

He let you, of course, you couldn't move him before he had extra wolf powers, let alone now.

You couldn't hurt him, but you didn't think wolves were impervious to being ticklish.

"AHAHA!" he laughed out when you started, making you smile with triumph. "Okay! Okay! I give! Uncle! Can we go back to cuddling?"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 24

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: hey hey.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Before you get too far, Bryce appears from the shadows. You don't know if he was listening or if he's only stumbled on you but it hardly matters. He offers only a sullen look, too meek to mention the tension that stands between you. He left you first to King Geralt, then Lord Vesemir; he's more their ally than your own. But what can a maid expect? 

"I am to return to the queen's service," you state matter-of-fact. 

"So I've been informed," he says grimly. "Perhaps you might quell her restlessness." 

You stop along the corridor as your surroundings grow familiar. You’re halt and sway as the soldier scuffs to a stop a few steps ahead of you. He turns to face you as you unclasp the cloak from around your shoulders. You drag it away from your form. 

“Sir, will you hold this for me,” you fold it over your arm and offer it to him, “I shouldn’t require it during my work.” 

He looks at it and takes it with a frown. He pets the soft fur around the neck as you catch a peek of the wolf’s badge sewn into the lining. You lift your head and look past him. 

“I will make sure it is not lost,” he promises. 

Your dread mounts with each step. You’re weighed down by the last day and all that’s come to light. You cannot shake the shackles newly clasped around your wrists and the links only draw tighter and tighter. For now, the danger has calmed but it will not dissipate entirely. There is only doom ahead, even if now, it remains obscure. 

You will have no safety, not even in the familiar; not even in your duty. How can you keep on in serving when you are at the same deceiving? 

Jazlene, once Lady, now Queen, has rarely been easy to calm. You've come to expect her virulent behaviour, never once forsaking her the habits inherited from her mother. Now, you fear her fiery emotions and what wrath she may rain upon you should your betrayal be discovered. It almost seems wiser to confess and be done with it all, yet your fear restrains your guilt. 

As you come upon the queen's chamber doors, you give pause, as does the soldier at your side. You share a curious look between you. There are no guards at her door.  

"Gods, I beg, do not tell me she has escaped once more," Bryce mutters. 

You step ahead of him and go to the door. You turn your ear to it and lean in, dragging your palms along the wood. You ball your hand and rap upon it, certain you hear some sound from within. There is scuffling and the queen's trite voice. She is within. 

You peer back over your shoulder at your escort as he squints. The door opens from within and you spin back. It's that orange-haired guard; Gilles. It’s odd and the noise that escapes Bryce’s throat says as much. 

“Queen having another tantrum?” The soldier behind you scoffs. 

“Eh, she is your queen too,” Gilles accuses, “it is treason to mock your liege.” 

“Mocking? No, merely the truth,” Bryce chirps, “let the maid in. She’ll do better work of serving our admirable queen, eh? Tend to her lady needs with a softer hand.” 

Gilles grabs your arm and shoves you through the door, “do not worry her--” 

“Eh!” You feel another tug and you’re turned back as Bryce tears the guard away from you, “unhand her. She is but a maid. If you need feel big, you might go squash insects in the stables, yea?” 

“Be wary of crossing me, king’s pet,” Gilles pushes away the other soldier, “I do not fear any old man, no matter his name.” 

“Young twerp like you, I’ve known many,” Bryce stands unflinching, “my name comes from tossing fools like you in the dirt. Don’t think the years have taken that much.” 

“The maid is a maid, as you say. She hardly needs a guard herself,” the carrot-headed man rebukes. 

“And you hardly need the witness, eh,” the soldier sneers and chortles, “heed your own warning, man, you dance in a pit of snakes.” 

“I am the snake,” Gilles makes himself as big as he can but pales against the taller soldier. 

Bryce pokes his tongue in his cheek and smirks. He doesn’t reply, instead looking past the younger man, “maid, attend your duty and I’ll attend my own.” 

“Sir Bryce,” you utter tremulously. 

“Don’t worry for me,” he assures as his gaze returns to the man before him. “I’ve sworn never to draw steel against a man of the crown, and I shan’t, so long as the man in question does not offer doubt to that title. We are allies,” he slaps Gilles’ arm, his other hand on his pommel, “aren’t we, loyal guard?” 

Gilles’ gauntlet flinches towards his own sword but does not finish its path. He raises his chin and backs up against the wall. 

“In the name of the king and the queen,” the guard proclaims. 

Bryce’s eyes linger on the man and he shoos you with a flick of his fingers, “go on, maid. You needn’t worry for the matters of men.” 

You quickly flit inside, your heart fraught and your veins flooding with ice. That look in the soldier’s eyes worries you. He is a man of war and the mere scent of conflict seems to enliven him. Certainly, you know, if the guard gives the merest of reasons, there will be blood. 

Jazlene is within, abed beneath layers of fur. She lays with a hand against her forehead in a constant state of dismay. The door closes behind you and she sighs. 

“I called for a bath ages ago!” She decries, “if I must be imprisoned in this horrid place, I will at least be warm!” 

The mention of a bath disarms you. You waver on your feet before you can reclaim your wits. You ignore the memories stirring in the base of your skull. The king’s heat creeps up your back as the sensation of his touch tickles in your sides. You could sob for the way your chest rents. 

“Your highness, I will fetch the water,” you acquiesce in a brittle voice. 

“Oh, and where have you been?” She bawls, “here I am, with child and miserable and cold, and you are off, a maid, without a care? Abandoning her queen, as my very husband does the same?” 

You lower your chin at the mention of the king, “my apologies, I was bid to... other duties.” 

The lie is like poison in your mouth. You could gag at your own deceit. You keep your head low. You wish she would rise and pinch or lash or kick you. 

“All I wanted was wine,” she babbles at the canopy as she throws her hands up, “and company. He will not allow my own father to see me. He chased him out like some stray dog. The only family I have close and he keeps us apart. I want to play cards and I have no one to win against.” She thumps her fists down on the mattress and kicks her foot, “how can a queen have no power?” 

She sits up, her eyes fiery as her curls puff out wildly from her head. Her eyes are sparkling from her tears and pretty features twisted. The blankets fall away from her torso. She mops her face with the sleeves of her gown; they are wrinkled and her bodice is crooked. 

“And that Lord Ves... whoever he is, he is a nasty old troll,” she blusters, “I hate him. I hate them all, these winter pests. These animals. Beasts!” She snarls, “how can they live like this? I swear, when we reach the king’s castle, this will not go on. I must have my court. I am a queen and I should be crowned!” 

She sneers and shakes her head, closing her eyes as she presses her long fingers to her nose, “why are you just standing there?” She hisses. “I want a bath!” 

She pushes the blankets off of her and like a storm, she blows out of bed and towards you. You flinch but do not shield herself. She grabs your shoulders and shakes you. She shoves you away from her and you stagger. 

“I will fetch the wat--” 

You cannot finish your words as she strikes you across the cheek. You taste blood. The punishment you longed for is not so freeing as you expect. The sear across your face cannot assuage the flames of your guilt. 

“Go before I knock your teeth from your stupid head,” she snarls.  

You retreat and pull the door inward, letting yourself out. Gilles remains and does not look or comment at you. You rush away, your mouth pooling with blood. You swallow it down as you get to the kitchens, a pair of servants in gray working in the light of the stove. 

“Water,” you murmur as you rub your jaw, “please, can I have a pot to boil?” 

A woman, slender and silent, moves to fetch the large vessel. She hands it to you and you thank her. She clings to the other handle. 

“You will need help,” she declares. 

“Yes, thank you,” you flutter your lashes as the sting sticks in your skin. 

You know her. She is the same who welcomed in the king’s party to the castle. She helps you carry the pot down a corridor. You feel cold creeping through the air and your teeth chatter. She doesn’t react to the chill and leads you out a door into the frigid outdoors. She stops at a cistern pump and angles the pot beneath it. 

She takes a small mallet from next to the spout and beats the lever until it dips, ice falling away from it. She pumps without a word as you watch. You offer to take over but she shakes her head. You linger close by, feeling useless. 

“Lift,” she orders as she stills the pump and you grab the handle as she takes the other. You carry the pot together back into the castle. 

The act reminds you of another time. The night you and Merinda carried water to the king’s chamber in Debray. The woman across from you is a stranger and as cold as the winds. You raise the vessel over the flames and leave it to boil. 

She turns to you and nods, “hard work serving strong men. Best us maids work as one.” 

Her words are kind though her tone remains as hard as iron. Your cheeks tense and your lips tremble, “yes, thank you, miss.” 

“Same as you,” she dismisses the title you give her, “let me know when it steams.” 

You agree and turn to face the pot as it sits above a brazier. You are comforted in knowing that not all is changed in the Hinterlands. That camaraderie among servants has not frozen over like everything else. 

As you carry up the first pot of steaming water, the servant offers a name. Ezme. You return your own before you reach the queen’s chamber. You make several trips up and down, between the boil, and fill the large tub nearly to the brim, adding a pot of cool water to mellow the heat. 

Ezme leaves with the empty pot as you remain to attend the queen’s bath. As Gilles pulls the door shut, you notice how his eyes search past you. You turn and go to Jazlene as she tugs at her dress. You help unlace the piece of her gown, then her corset, and lift her shift over her head.  

She lowers herself into the tub, her dark skin flawless and her figure still as sculpted and firm as ever. She must be early in her state as she has yet to show the effect of her condition. She reclines with her arms over the lip of the wooden tub. 

“And what do you suppose the king is about?” She speaks with her eyes closed, frightening you as you stand quietly by the wall. “Hm? Why does he keep my people from me? Not only my father, but those other summer nobles who have accompanied us?” 

You don’t speak or move. It’s best to act as if you aren’t there. She speaks to herself; for herself. 

“First, he forbade my mother to come. Kept her from seeing me conceive her first grandchild,” she sneers, "and now he has banned my father from my chambers. All because he thought to provide me with a bottle of wine.” 

She is back to that. The wine. She is childish in how she latches onto that one grievance and will not let it go. 

“Because he would defend his daughter,” she snivels, “well, who else will keep me company as my husband remains errant? Oh, how bound he is to his kingliness. Oh, the hero he is. He has brought his wintry misery to the summer people and cursed us all to his wretched ways.” 

You stare at the floor, scalded by the dangerous inference of her complaints. She treads close to those things even a queen should not voice. She might be unhappy but she cannot be so unwise. It is like the game with the dice; she does not think of the turns to come, only what she holds in the moment. 

“He must plot against us. It’s what we all believe,” she sits up the water swishing around her.  

You try not to react, especially as the king’s command returns to you. ‘...you will watch and you will listen...’ 

“He has baited us all into his lands, into his snare, and he means to close it on us. He must,” she puts her hands up as if what she says is only the truth. Without a doubt, she must be right, “he speaks of uniting us and yet he means to extinguish us. He will do away with the summer’s blood and invade our lands as he always meant to.” She scoffs and drags her fingertip over the water’s surface, “he gives to all the same empty vows he gave me...” 

Silence, the sort where you can hear your own heart beating. You hold your breath. She needs to stop speaking. You want to stop hearing. 

“We are not as foolish as he thinks. We will be ready,” she smirks and tilts her head, “and he would not hurt his own prince, would he?” She plunges her hand under the water and rubs her stomach. “Even he cannot deprive his people of their future.” 

She hums and the water swishes around her as she lays back again. She snickers and sighs. You tuck your chin down and clutch your hands tightly. In this war of winter and summer, of king and queen, of husband and wife, you will surely be lost. 

[meowmoew3]

IN MY ROOM - Satoru Gojo

- PLAY! ˚⋆⭑:: SATORU GOJO ONESHOT

summary - Based on Julia Wolfs, In my room <3 word count - 1.3k content warning - angst, gojo sucks, mentions of smoking, slightly implied cheating if you squint masterlist // not proofread

February 7th, Friday 8 pm

You miss him. You couldn't deny it, you couldn't deny the way your eyes were tearing up at the sight of his old sweatshirt sitting in the corner of your room. You couldn't deny it when you came home crying, you couldn't deny the way you stumbled on your words while you informed your roommate on what the hell your boyfriend had done.

Satoru Gojo, the love of your life, well you thought he was. Until he dumped you right in front of his friends at the same restaurant he had asked you to be his girlfriend at two years ago.

"We could never work out, you know this. We both want different things baby." He had said, both of you were sitting down at a similar table to the one you had grown fond of sitting at during each of your anniversaries. You remember the tug at his lips when he had mentioned it being a nice tradition, but even while breaking up with you he was still using that same damn nickname you were growing tired of.

Was it so wrong to want to settle down with the man who once told you that he too, wanted kids and to have matching rings that go further than the promise rings he had gotten you both for your one year anniversary?

That all led up to now, packing up his things in a large box for the exchange you two will be having two days from now. You were dreading the day February 9th came.

February 9th, 10 am

Despite the lack of sleep and motivation you had, you still got up. Your roomate, Shoko, being there every step you took, you could tell she's worried about you.

"You know, you don't have to go. We could stay in, order food, have Suguru pick him his shit." His, Shoko being nice enough to avoid saying his name. The name Satoru had become a sacred word, a word you felt as if you didn't have a right to say.

"I know, but I also have some stuff I had left as his place." Your breath came out shaky, your sitting down on the shared couch and yet you still feel like you're out of breath. Shoko walked from the kitchen to sit across from you,

"Do you want me to come with you?" Before you could answer with a simple ill be fine, it died on your tongue at the sound of her next words. "Look, you didn't hear it from me but, he's seeing someone else. Suguru blurted it out on accident when he found out you're still cooping yourself up in your room." She finished with a loud sigh, well, you definitely didn't expect that.

"Oh." How do you respond to this? During the break up he had mentioned staying friends, you agreed. Not willing to give him up completely. "Uh, do you," you looked up, finally looking her in the eyes, "Do you know who it is..?" The silence consumed you both as she shook her head.

You stood up, grabbing the box full of Sat- Gojos stuff. "I'll be back in a few 'ko." You gave her a weak smile, you had better things to do than allowing the fact he had moved on so fast to bother you.

Dropping the box off in your cars backseat, the teddy bear you had purchased for his birthday a few months back bounced out of the box and onto the floor. It smelt like him still, he had left it behind the last time he had spent the night, much to Shokos to dismay.

Instead of putting it back in the box, instead of listening to your thoughts screaming at you to not bring it into the frontseat with you. You did anyway, grabbing the passengers seat seatbelt where Gojo used to sit, you plugged the seatbelt in across the stuffed animal and continued on your way to the park where he had asked you to meet him.

Upon your arrival to the park you pulled out your phone, he had a thing for being late.

He had unfollowed you on all social medias when you had broken up, not wasting a second on switching your matching profiles and taking your initial out of his bio. You had laughed it off on how his social media presence was a hint you missed on the breakup. His bio changing from, "I love my cute girlfriend y/n <3" to " I love my gf" to "i 💙 my gf" to "y/n <3" all the way to "y/i<3" and finally, to just the plain first letter of your name.

The tears welled up in your eyes as you unprivated your account. Hoping that one day he'll stumble upon your profile and realize that he didn't completely break you, he totally did though.

Reorganizing it, changing your profile pic, your bio, removing highlights and deleting posts on your instagram.

Stalking yourself on the internet just to get a glimpse at what he might see.

When you see his profile you can tell he's barely affected by the breakup, his story lingered with posts of him smoking, partying, and of course,

his arm wrapped around a girl, offering her the same smile you had loved, looking at her with look in his eyes that screams, I love you.

How does he make moving on and throwing you away look so easy?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw him and his new girlfriend walking towards a bench nearby, he hadn't noticed you. His girlfriend was holding the box full of your stuff, she set it down and dug through it. If you didn't want your things back before you definitely don't now.

"Hey," Gojo giggled out at his girlfriends wondering hands, "She'd notice if anything of hers is missing, if you want it that bad i'll buy you a new one."

"Aw cmon! Look at this!" She held up the teddy bear. You both had bought each other bears, you looked down at your passenger seat to see the other half of it, one that represented him a little too much.

This wasn't worth, it was it? Seeing him again, hearing his voice only kills you more, would he even care? The junk in the box in your backseat was all easily replaceable and worth nothing to him.

As you continued to let your thoughts scatter you noticed the tears falling, yeah, it wasn't worth it. You told yourself it wasn't worth hearing his silky voice being directed towards you, the voice you knew would make you fold and beg him to take you back.

So you pulled out of the parking lot, the sound of your breaks that you definitely needed to get fixed based off the loud squeak they just let out, had caused him to look up. Looking into his eyes had only motivated you to drive faster. He saw you drive away, your phone didn't ring, not even after you had pulled into your apartments parking lot.

Shokos cars gone, so as you marched up the stairs and threw yourself onto your bed to sob into your pillow you were met back with silence.

He didn't call to ask for his stuff.

You thought he'd call at least.

The box of his stuff sat nicely on your desk.

Despite it only making you miss him more

You've learned to accept the fact you'll miss him all of the time.

You could deal with his stuff in your room.

#BREAK ROOM!⭑─

AYY FIRST ONE SHOT!! lmk if this sucks + tell me if a part doesn't make sense or if i spelled something wrong.. I think i got the ao3 writer effect bc i have been feeling like crap 😭😭 Im so behind in school too but im using my break to write this >o<!!

CREDITS ⭑─ 

Inspired by In My Room by Julia Wolf

please do not copy, translate, or reupload my work to different platforms. I do not own music, photos, or characters used. Things written in quote ( that isnt a character talking ) does NOT belong to me, I am not claiming to own any of it.

RULES ⭑─ 

Honestly there are no rules.. but try to keep it positive. Idc for mdni but small warning, i am not responsible for what you see on social media. if you see something you dont like please scroll it is not my responsibility to tell you who and what to interact with.

[yandere-fics]

♡ You 'Cheated' On Sister Eliza ♡

You weren't like Eliza really, or the rest of your pack for that matter, you hadn't even been able to shift or sense certain things that they could which is why you left for the city, not pausing to consider what you were doing for even a second even as the pack members around you tutted at you for abandoning your mate. You hadn't realized what they meant by that, you had thought they were thinking about the mate you would wind up meeting one day, not that you had already met them, your sister, without even realizing you were fated. So you were a bit stubborn when that mate tried to worm her way back into your life only a few years later. She had worked hard to get strong enough to work in the city just so she could come and get her mate back. You had already been having the time of your life in the city though, sleeping with whoever you wanted, though admittedly they were not the best lays, but you liked the freedom it gave you, no longer forced to run off of wolf rules when you yourself weren't even really one. She was not happy to say the least with your history of sexual relationships though when she found out.

"Puppy, who's is this?" She growled, holding up a shirt that she found in your closet, something a one night stand had left at your apartment a few weeks ago. You hadn't been able to return it with an obsessive wolf trailing you every day for weeks, you hadn't even gotten laid in so long because you weren't sure if she'd be able to smell people on you and get upset. Today though she had barged into your apartment so she could make it smell like her because while her silly puppy didn't know you needed to live with her yet, your area still needs to smell like her to protect you. Anyways like a tracker dog she had immediately zero'd in on the one thing in your apartment that still smelled like someone else. You supposed that somewhat made sense though, your pack always said all wolves had a sharp nose when it came to their mate.

"I slept with them." You just had to be blunt with it. She was going to find out you had sex at some point and hopefully this would make her no longer want you and actually leave you alone. Her whole body tensed up though and she began to shake violently, her arms coming up behind you to squeeze you tightly, her nose burying itself in your neck like she was trying to sniff if you were a virgin or not.

"Puppy, you cheated on me?" She nipped at your neck aggressively and her arms only tightened further. It felt like she was crushing you.

"We're not together, I can do what I want?" She snarled, turning you around and pinning you to the bed. Her ears were low with her tail stiff and pointed. Well there went your thoughts of her just wanting to leave you for sleeping around. You just hoped she never found the people you had slept with, you worried what she would do to them.

"Puppy, my silly silly puppy, we're mates. Of course it's cheating." She snuck her teeth into your neck, her claws beginning to quickly shred your clothing. "Silly silly, don't worry, your sister will fix this!" You dreaded to think about how she actually planned on fixing it but you could assume the dent in her jeans had something to do with it.

"I didn't even know we were mates though!" You tried to squirm away but one of her hand came up to pin your wrists, her nails digging into your wrists painfully making you cry in a bit of pain though you weren't sure Eliza cared about that at the moment.

"Silly, you're a werewolf, of course you'd have a mate duh, even if you can't shift you hafta wait for your soulmate! You'd be in less pain puppy if you would stop moving." Her other hand pulled her cock free, pressing it against your hole, already leaking and fully hard.

"Eliza, please don't do this." She snarled at you before putting a smile back on her face to reassure you.

"If you'd stop crying you'd like it silly, we're mates!" She started to press in as you started to cry harder. You just wanted to have a little freedom to pick who you wanted to sleep with, why could you not even have that? This wolf thing fucking sucked.

[heliomanteia]

Musing more on “Inquisitor is Fen’Harel whereas Rook is (younger) Solas”. It’s even in their names.

Inquisitor is that tale assigned to you by the masses that you don’t have to believe in in the same way Felassan warns Solas not to believe in the Dread Wolf stories. Meanwhile Solas is what has always been there as a facet of his nature in the way Rook has — “Rook” as a nickname from Varric is personal, it’s not any grand and impressive name to instill fear into enemies. Yeah they’re Rook. Because they cheat at games, Chuckles.

[hoboblaidd]

Veilguard Verse Tags, timeline, and headcanons

timeline: - rather than list what we're all familiar with, some basic points:

In addition to dreams, Solas can talk to Rook and those who are sensitive to spirits ala Emmrich and Lucanis/Spite in places where the Veil is thin or in the Crossroads, as long as Rook's around. Anyone can talk to Solas at a Fen'harel altar; they're like walkie-talkies.

Rooks start at very low approval, for obvious reasons. Their relationship is adversarial. To Solas, Rook is "an irritant", a "child", and a tool. They tossed him in jail, took away his control and his goal, and unleashed his worst enemies. It doesn't matter how kind, snarky, or aggressive a Rook is. They are, to him, a jailor and an enemy. As such, I don't see how a ship with Rook and Solas would work.

Solas is a textbook trickster god in datv, far more than he is 'the god of lies.' He bargains, he cheats, he uses people. It's in his lore, and it's in every mythological story that has a trickster irl. He'll act accordingly.

tag:

VEILGUARD | : The events of the game. Solas is trapped in the regret prison, but not before he uses blood magic to bind with Rook. He advises the team up until they kill Ghilan'nain, when he's finally able to pull a switcheroo and break free. He fights Elgar'nan's forces in Minrathous, and tries to trick Rook into killing Elgar'nan and bringing down the Veil. Unless I’m interacting with an Inquisitor or we've talked about it before, I will use my default romanced Lavellan/world state, but it will have no effect on whatever ending you choose.

important headcanons:

General

I'm convinced "You've earned the Dread Wolf's respect" is a Fourth Wall trick.

Solas knows Rook's real name, but he almost exclusively refers to them as Rook (in italics, and derogatory).

Solas can communicate with Rook more frequently than in the game

Anyone can talk to him at a Fen'harel altar

Solas loves his People and is motivated by them - including modern elves

Power Levels

Power levels in Veilguard

Solas’ power during the final Veilguard battle

Regrets

The veracity of Solas’ regrets and memories

Regret Prison

Solas in the regret prison

Sensory experience in the regret prison

Trickster

Solas the trickster

Solas keeps a Batman-like dossier on everyone

The Dread Wolf - Ratdog

Ratdog

Quest-specific

The End of the Beginning (Solas threw Rook into the wall so they'd bleed and he could use blood magic to connect them)

The Enemy of My Enemy (Solas could kill Rook in their sleep, but it's against his interests)

The Blood of Arlathan (placeholder)

A Cage for Gods (Solas took over the Shadow Dragons in Minrathous for those weeks Rook was in the prison)

The Dragon and the Dread Wolf (The archdemon fight scars linger) (Injuries, scars, and shapeshifting in the final battle)

The Dread Wolf Rises (Atonement ending) (Non-Atonement endings)

[dreadfutures]

Rules: If you're tagged, MAKE A NEW POST and showcase one fanartist or fanfic you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don't forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in!

Let's bring back rec posts, and share some love for the creative work we get to enjoy every day in our fandoms! For ANY fandom, highlight either a fanartist or a piece of fan writing (or both) you love and tag some friends!

FANARTIST: @yolebrat

Today I'm highlight @yolebrat - an amazing artist who I first found through painterly Dragon Age fanart. Since then I've enjoyed commissions, and cute little doodle replies that make me smile!

One of my favorite pieces is a commission yole made for Mel (below) Give it a reblog and follow yole for more art of all kinds. Or buy a commission and get an amazing painted piece of your own!

FANFIC: Cheating the Dread Wolf by cartadwarfwithaheartofgold

I read this story long ago all in one sitting. It absolutely gripped me, tugged at my heartstrings, and wouldn't let me go. A Cadash/Solas/Varric Tethras rare pair, you have to give this a try.

Rating: E Pairing: Female Cadash/Solas, Female Cadash/Varric, Varric/Solas Chapters: 13/13 Length: 42,657 words Summary: Maria Cadash hung up the Inquisitor's mantle for the Viscountess' crown, but she's unable to stop her desperate and impossible struggle to stop Fen'Harel from destroying the world both her husband and daughter inhabit. The fact Varric, Maria, and Solas are all madly in love with each other just means she may have enough of an edge to win this game.

Tags

I'm tagging a lot of people on this one because I want to get this KICKSTARTED. Dragon Age is coming BACK this summer, and I'm trying to get twitter refugees who don't know anyone on tumblr to realize that there's a thriving DA fandom that has been here the whole time. But feel free to recommend from other fandoms! I love finding new fics and new artists to follow.

Dragon Age FanFic server tag list: @warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @theluckywizard | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie | @delicatefade | @leggywillow | @about2dance | @plisuu

People I Love In My Notes: @fiadhaisteach | @shivunin | @greypetrel | @littlewitchbee | @wildbasil | @peforby | @sucrosesorcery | @layalu | @beebundt | @neonteeth | @galadae | @thiefbird | @mel-0n-earth | @alienturnip | @ndostairlyrium | @v-arbellanaris | @demandthedoodles | @wailing-willow | @the-rebel-archivist | @thedreadblog

(There is a tag limit of 50 people on posts so I'm pushing it lol)

[pluckyredhead]

3, 6, 13 for the book meme!

3. What were your top five books of the year?

This was predictable because I've gushed about it several times now, but I'm gonna put the entire Big Bad Wolf series by Charlie Adhara in as one entry because otherwise it would be my entire top 5.

The others, in no particular order: Twisted Shadows by Allie Therin (paranormal M/M romance, extremely high stakes and incredible UST). Plain Jane and the Mermaid by Vera Brosgol (graphic novel, beautifully drawn and funny and so cleverly plotted with excellent worldbuilding). Better Living Through Birding by Christian Cooper (beautiful memoir of growing up Black and gay in the 70s and 80s, working at Marvel, living through the viral "Central Park birdwatching" incident in 2020, and traveling the world, all through the lens of a life of birdwatching; made me cry more than once). And I'm cheating and cramming in two NYC history books that I loved this year: You Talkin' to Me? by E.J. White, a history of NYC English, and Madame Restell by Jennifer Wright, a biography of the most infamous abortionist of 19th century America that is sadly extremely relevant in today's anti-choice environment.

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

Hmm, not really? I mean, my TBR is never-ending and I especially wish I'd made a bigger dent in my comics reading this year, but time is finite, alas. There isn't anything specific that I wanted to read but didn't.

13. What were your least favorite books of the year?

There were a couple of mysteries I read which disappointed me - A Dreadful Splendor and How to Solve Your Own Murder - but I am very picky about mysteries so that was inevitable. And I just finished The Foxhole Court and, uh... Sorry, I know I have a bunch of mutuals who love it but it was not for me!

[thedissonantverses]

28 for the rook codex entry 👀

Thanks so much!!!! Hahaha these are fun(I did cheat and copy it out from the one I did earlier)

28. Propaganda for or against Rook:

Missive found amongst Venatori belongings, a crude drawing of Rook's face done under the script. It looks like a wanted poster:

The gods have warned us of this upstart elf. She is the worst kind of heretic, wielding the weapon of the Dread Wolf. Kill her on site, but bring her body to Ghilan'nain directly. She has...plans. As for known companions see the other side.

[abbatoirablaze]

Big Bad Wolf, Chapter 12

Word Count:  1.4k

Warnings:  heartbreak, angst, noncon, mentions of kidnapping, forced relationship, implied smut, stalking, murder, gun violence.   

Lloyd’s hands tightened around your waist as you tried to shift again; the large hands keeping you standing, bent over the counter top, “you don’t have to move, baby…we aren’t doing anything wrong?”

“What the fuck is going on, Hansen? ” your dad repeated. 

You went to speak but your mouth opened and no words came out.  You couldn’t begin to tell your father what was going on.  Dread filled you as you thought about everything that had happened since last Christmas.  How you and Lloyd had began something so far removed from who you were as a person. How you managed to give this man that was very close in age to your father every last bit of you without a second thought. 

When Jacob attempted to get you drunk, but Lloyd became your knight in shining armor, making sure you felt safe and protected.  How his lips felt against yours when you two kissed, and how his bulge felt as he rocked himself against you; desperate for the same contact you always wished for.

How, you cheated on Jacob with Lloyd anyways.  And while it wasn’t something you had intended on doing, it meant way more to you than any memory you’d shared with the younger Barber.  But above that, you never bothered breaking up with him until you knew Lloyd wanted more. 

How Lloyd admitted to Suzanne that you two had what he called ‘an incident’ at Christmas, but that he felt more with you than he ever had with her.  And how in the summer time Suzanne left. 

And the weekly cleaning sessions. 

How hey had devolved to nothing more than you going over just to be pressed into the mattress.  How two neighbors had become lovers, and even that transpired into something more; you mewling your boyfriend’s name as he came inside the condom he wore because you were terrified of the idea of becoming knocked up before you graduated high school, much less college. 

“WELL?”

“Daddy, I-“

“Don’t call me daddy,” your father spat, his face twisting into a look of disgust as he watched the two of you still coupled together, “not after what I just heard.  Not while you still have a man inside of you.”

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach, and you paled.  Your head turned ever so slightly so that you could see Lloyd in your peripherals. 

How loud had the two of you been?

“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel!” Lloyd said quickly, bravely in front of your father, “I love her more than you’ll ever know.  And I-“

“What the fuck is on her finger?”

Your gaze shot down to your hand. 

A ring sat on your finger.  You felt Lloyd slip out of you and you immediately turned to face him.  Your lips were still parted, though this time over the unspoken question of the engagement ring on your finger.  You held it between the two of you, surprise lighting up your face as you glanced between the diamond and his eyes.    

“You said yes, baby…don’t you remember?” Lloyd asked, his brow raising as he nodded towards the ring, “we were in here making love, and I asked you to be mine…you said yes…you screamed it for me.”

Your eyes slipped away from his and your other hand went to the one with the ring on it.  You were quick to begin shaking your head as you attempted to remove it, “n-no…no.  Lloyd, I-we-you’re still marrie-“

“My divorce finalized last week, pumpkin!” he said gently, brushing away the stray hairs that were getting in your face.  His hands went over yours and he stopped you from removing the ring, “this is what we talked about, princess…you said you wanted to be my sweet little wife.  That you wante-“

“YOU WERE PLANNING THIS?”

You spun so fast it nearly knocked you off your feet.  Lloyd’s arms wrapped protectively around you, cradling your naked form so there was some barrier between you and your father. The look across your father’s face was one of betrayal. 

“I-I didn’t…we-“

“Baby…what are you saying?” Lloyd asked, spinning you away from your father and back to him, “we’ve been talking about this for weeks.  How you wanted to feel wanted…and loved.   And seen.  I see you.  I want you.  I love you, sweetheart.  And I want to marry you.  Ever since last Christmas…when Jacob did what he did…and we-“

But he stopped himself shy, not wanting to betray the last ounce of your trust that he’d had in front of your father. 

“Since what?  What happened at Christmas?”  

“L-Lloyd��I can’t!”

“What?”

“I-I don’t want this, Lloyd…I don’t want to marry you….”

Lloyd’s jaw clenched as he watched you.  You were enjoying your life, acting as though he had never been a part of it.  As though he’d never been with you at all. 

After that day, his heart shattered.  Sure, he was upset when Suzanne had left him, but you were his good little wife in training.  You listened to his every word; hung off of it.  At least, he thought. 

But watching you tear that ring off your finger and rush to get dressed again was something that he hadn’t prepared for.  He had expected you to be shocked, but he’d also expected to be able to talk you through it; to warm you up to the idea of being his wife. 

But you ran away from him; acting like he was the monster. 

It’d been a whole summer since he’d last seen you. 

And most of the fall. 

Lloyd sold his house and had moved from the neighborhood, letting everyone think that he was gone.  He’d gotten back into the private sector, working off the grid for Carmichael to get his mind off of you. 

A lame attempt, sure, but it did allow him one thing. 

The freedom to watch you without you even knowing. 

You’d been sipping drinks from a red solo cup most of the night with those other little sluts. They’d introduced you to parties and underage drinking.  Being a little plaything for those fucking frat boys.  They’d corrupted you in so many ways. 

But he knew deep, deep down you were still his delicate little angel.  His little dream wife.

His perfect little slut.

And tonight was the night that he’d planned so well for.

Tonight was the night that he brought you home.

For good. 

As he cleaned his tools and looked at the dead frat boy that sat behind him, strapped and tied down to a chair a sick grin came across his face. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, you sicko?”

The young frat boy spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth since Lloyd punched him hard enough to knock his back molar loose. 

“You touched her.”

“What?”

“You fucked my girl.”

“I don’t know who the fuck your bitch of a girlfriend is.  Just let me go man.  I don’t know anything.  Or anyone.  I don’t even know who you are!  I won’t go to the cops.  I swear!”

“It’s a little too late for that,” Lloyd shrugged, “and frankly I wouldn’t give a damn about cops…you aren’t going to make it out of here alive, Chad.”

“FUCK YOU!” he spat, tears streaming down his cheeks.  Lloyd smiled as he turned to quickly look at the picture of you and the frat boy. 

It was a picture of the night before it’d progressed into him bringing you back to the house to fuck you.  He picked it up and flicked it at the guy.  His eyes strained so that he could get a glimpse of you in the ill-lit room. 

“Know of her?”

“I only fucked the uptight little cunt once!” the frat boy swore, “I’m telling you the truth man.  It only happened once.  I didn’t know she had some boyfriend waiting on her.  I didn’t know!  The lying little slut said that she was single.”

“She’s free to do what she wants,” Lloyd shrugged, pulling his gun from out of the back of his pants only to aim it at his head, “and she’s my future wife…not some little slut.”

The blood had long stopped dripping from the front of his head a while ago. 

And Lloyd had taken his time cleaning up. 

But the boy still sat in the middle of his bedroom as he looked across the street. 

The music had been so loud that no one heard the murder occur.  The gunshot silenced by the aftermarket piece he’d attached to it. 

You were oblivious to what was going on. 

How the big bad wolf was just a few steps away. 

And how he’d planned to take you back in just a few hours. 

Because as you’d once said, ‘you were his…and only his.’

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @buckysteveloki-me, @eralen, @chemtrails-club, @bean-is-reading

[sundogsandrainbows]

Of Elves And Humans: Redux, WIP-Saturday snippet.

I love to write scenes of Alistair/Warden like the next person, but sometimes you need just scenes of the group interacting with each other, and i love how this came together here, using the canon party banter in between 😁

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

The tavern’s main hall was a lot livelier than when Lenya left it hours age. The durgen’len was playing cards with the bard and assassin, who accused them of cheating with their successive wins. Sten methodically cleaned and polished his armor parts while Wynne held up her large, knitted piece of yarn in his direction, as if measuring up the size of the Qunari with it. 

“I don’t think I have enough wool…” she grumbled under her breath, not destined for her ears and yet amusing. And Shale observed it all so quietly from a shadowed corner that one could mistake her for the tavern’s inventory. Lenya gave the golem a wave when passing by, but she was fully in her ‘I don’t care’ mode, and did not react. Fitting somehow, since there was not much to do, other than waiting out the storm raging outside. Lenya still had to tend to her own equipment, but meh, later. She steered toward the card-playing trio and acknowledged them with a nod. 

“Lenya, hi!” Leliana said brightly. “Are you feeling better?”

She sat down on the bench opposite of them. “No more headaches, if this is what you are asking.”

"Good, I’m glad to hear this! Let me finish this round and… then there is something I need to talk with you about, if that’s alright?” 

Ah, always leaving her an out, always cautious. Given their tenuous relationship, it wasn’t a surprise, but perhaps no longer needed. The bard wasn’t as obnoxious as she’d been, or appeared to be, in the beginning. Quite the opposite, she was helpful and very skilled with the bow, at that. Which reminded her… “Sure. There is something I need you to ask too.” Odd that Alistair wasn’t around, though. Was he sleep– 

“Wynne?” Oh. He was coming down the stairs just moments after her. Lenya smiled. Speak of the Dread Wolf. 

“Yes, Alistair?” the mage replied to him with the patience and tone of a mother.

“My shirt has a hole in it.” To make his very whiny point, he steered directly toward the old rocking chair she occupied at the fireplace. He bunched up the torn fabric at his side and poked his finger through it. “Look!”

Wynne was unimpressed. “I see. And?”

“Can you mend it?” 

“Can't you mend your own clothes? Why do I have to do it?”

“Sometimes I pick up too much fabric and it ends up all puckered and the entire garment hangs wrong afterward. And you're... you know, grandmotherly. Grandmothers do that sort of thing, don't they?“

And people wondered why Lenya gave him the puppy nickname and used it for months. This man was taking all his cues from Revas when he was begging for scraps and even Morrigan couldn’t say no to, then. Kinda adorable, though.

“Darning socks and whatnot. You don't want me to have to fight darkspawn in a shirt with a hole, do you? It might get bigger. I might catch a cooooold.” 

There was a pout in his voice, no need to see his expression to know of its existence. 

“Oh, all right.  Give it to me then,” Wynne gave in, had never any chance than to do so. Perhaps he should use that technique to ask the archdemon to leave Ferelden the fuck alone. It would actually work. “But first, fetch me my darning satchel placed next to the fireplace, young man.”

“What is it that amuses you so, my dear Warden?” Lenya flinched, clasped her ear as hot breath grazed it. Shivers ran down her spine, but not of the good kind.

“Eww, don’t whisper into my ear, you weirdo!”

“Apologies. Enraptured as you were, I had to do that to get your attention.” Zevran chuckled, leaned in even closer to look past her. “What is it that made you smile so, I wonder…”

“I didn’t –”

“Oh, I see.” Lenya turned toward the assassin who drew away with another warm, if very irritating laughter. Sitting back down, he continued his card match as if he’d never been a cryptic weirdo to her just now.

“See, what exactly?”

He only glanced up for a second from his stack of cards before playing a pair of eight. “Ah, this is for you to figure out, my dear.”

Ugh, why did this elf have to be —

“Hah, I won!” Oghren banged the table, hard. “Nug suckers! Round is mine!”

Zevran grabbed the table’s edge with both hands to stop it from shaking and possibly toppling over. “Yes. I have to admit, you bested me after all, my stout friend!” he said in an even tone that revealed he’d let him win, so he’d stop complaining. Well, whatever.  

“Lenya!” Leliana lay down her set of cards and looked at her. “Can you… come with me?”

“Nel?” Alistair’s version of her name was shrill on his lips and he crossed his arms over his chest to cover himself. Huh, why was he not wearing… ah. Right. The hole in his shirt that – 

“Lenya… hello?” She nearly jumped out of her seat as the bard appeared in her vision and waved in front of her face. “I have been calling you twice now…did you not –” She turned around and back right after with a particular smug smile. Ugh. “Ah, I see. Enjoying the view, hmm?”  [...] 

[queenofdragons12]

𝘾𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃, death, puss in boots

The crisp night air was a welcomed distraction from the bustling roar of the city's night life. It was a welcomed retreat, to be able to sneak into an alleyway and recollect one's thoughts, the distant murmurs and laughter of drunken bar flies drowned out by a placid silence. Unfortunately, this bout of peaceful repose would be short lived.

A distant sound echoed through the dark alleyway, a melancholic melody akin to a lullaby; a somber whistle that was both soothing and unsettling in its consistent, repetitive tempo. It was an otherworldly melody, something primal that perhaps even preceded mankind's first song.

"Great night for a stroll!" An unfamiliar voice spoke, its smooth baritone words slipping past a set of sharp, grinning teeth and a flicking tongue. The wolf-like figure stood at the end of the alleyway, his strong frame outlined by the flicker of neon lights.

"Though in your case… I'd say it's not really a stroll, is it?" The beastly figure stepped forth, out of the shadows, his piercing red eyes flickering with malice. "You're running, running for your life. You've been running for a while now. Unfortunately for you… it seems I've finally caught up."

You stared at him and blinked. "Muerte," you said, your tone as cool as stone, your claws flexed around the hilt of your sword, "you are not welcome here, leave" you stated, your tail swishing from side to side, the fur on your back standing on end. The alley was cold, but the warmth of your anger was like a beacon in the night.

"Ah, Muerte," the anthropomorphic black wolf drawled, his grin widening to show a set of razor-sharp teeth. "Always so formal, aren't we?" The whistling grew louder, echoing off the grimy walls of the alley. The air grew thick with the scent of brimstone, a scent that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. His cloak fluttered in the non-existent breeze, revealing bandaged wrists and the glint of his dual sickle blades.

You glared at him with intense defiance. "Why not? It's not every day you come face to face with Death himself."

He chuckles darkly, the sound resonating in the tight space of the alleyway, his eyes gleaming like hot embers in the night. The whistling turns into a low, eerie tune that seems to make the very shadows around you shiver. "Why, indeed," he says, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken stories. "But I assure you, my dear Muerte, this is no mere meeting. I've come to settle a score, to collect on a debt that's long overdue."

You glared at him, the fury in your eyes burning like blue fire as you pulled back the hem of your cloak, revealing shimmering purple scales that flashed ominously. “Do you really think Death is a threat to a dragon?” you challenged, your voice edged with defiance. As you spoke, you drew your sword with a fluid motion, its blade catching the dim light of the alley. “I’ve been cheating Death for years now. Why should this time be any different?”

The whistling grew louder, a symphony of dread that seemed to resonate in the very fabric of the alley. His grin never wavered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your display of power.* "Ah, the dragon within you," he said, his tone one of acknowledgment rather than fear. "Impressive, truly. But let's not forget, Y/N , that I am not just any reaper. I am the personification of the end of all things. And your little… escapades have not gone unnoticed." With a flick of his wrist, the shadows at his side grew into long, inky tendrils that snaked towards you, the air around them crackling with dark energy.

Your eyes danced with a fierce, determined glint as you stretched out a talon towards him, the tendrils of your power wrapping tightly around your wrist. With a sudden, forceful tug, Death was yanked off his feet and fell to the ground with a resounding thud. You let out a low, mocking chuckle as you approached him, your sword burning with an otherworldly glow clutched in your claws—the only weapon capable of striking a true blow to Death and ending him.

With surprising agility for one so large, the black wolf rolled onto his back, his cloak fluttering around him like a living shadow. He chuckled, the sound echoing off the alley walls, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ah, the fire in your veins, so bright, so fierce," he mused, his voice now a low, rumbling growl. "But tell me, Muerte, have you ever truly faced the one who has seen the end of galaxies?"

Chuckling softly, you advanced with deliberate steps, the intense glow of your sword casting eerie shadows on the walls. You pressed the tip of the blade against Death’s throat, the cold steel biting into his skin. He was taller than you, yes, but that mattered little. The power and resolve in your eyes spoke volumes. You would have his blood on your hands before long, and there was no doubt in your mind that this time, Death’s reign was coming to an end.

He stared up at you, his red eyes unblinking and filled with a smoldering amusement. The tendrils of shadow retreated into his form, only to re-emerge as a pair of twisted, elongated arms that wrapped around your own, halting your deadly blow. "So eager to embrace oblivion," he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and mockery. "But, my dear Muerte, your fiery spirit does not make you immune to the fate that awaits us all. In fact, it is what makes you so… delectable."

“You don’t say,” you teased, your voice dripping with a dark satisfaction. With a swift, decisive motion, you drove your sword through his arms, pinning him with a brutal efficiency. “I can do more than just this,” you added, the edge of your blade gleaming ominously as you let him feel the weight of your resolve. The scent of burning shadow filled the alley, a stark contrast to the usual urban odors.

He roared in pain, his form flickering between his anthropomorphic wolf and a more primal, monstrous version of himself, eyes now surrounded by additional ones that stretched down his snout. His tongue grew longer, and his teeth sharper. "You think you can best me, half-breed?" His guttural voice was filled with anger and challenge as the shadows grew denser around him. "You are but a fleeting spark in the endless void I govern!"

You released your human form, allowing your true self to emerge. A massive purple dragon rose from the shadows, its scales shimmering with an otherworldly iridescence. Fire roared in your belly, an inferno of defiance and power.

“I burn devils like you to the ground,” you growled, your voice echoing with primal fury. “Death has never claimed me before, and it never will again.” Your tail whipped through the air, knocking over a nearby dumpster with a deafening clang, sending trash flying. The alley was now a battleground of shadow and scale, of life and the looming specter of its end.

The black wolf chuckled, the sound a mix of pain and amusement, his eyes glinting with a fiery light. "You think your newfound power makes you invincible? That you can defy the very fabric of existence?"

Leaning down, you smiled. "yes. I've already made a deal with my own god. Yours will do nothing."

The whistling grew silent as the alley was filled with the heavy, anticipatory pause. The anthropomorphic black wolf before you, pinned by your blade, his primal form rippling with shadowy malice, seemed to shrink under the towering presence of your true dragon form. His crimson eyes searched yours, seeking the truth behind your words. The shadows grew denser around him, as if trying to shield him from your fiery gaze. "Ah, the arrogance of youth," he sneered, his voice now a hissing, echoing snarl. "You think a pact with your own deity shields you from me?"

With a sinister smile that seemed to split your dragon's face in two, you leaned down closer to the struggling black wolf, the heat from your nostrils making the fur on his snout sizzle. Your claws, now the size of swords, dug into the cold, unyielding stone of the alley, the sound of them scraping against the pavement like nails on a chalkboard. "Oh yes," you murmured, the words a seductive promise of pain and a grim acknowledgment of his fate. "Indeed," you repeated, your smile never wavering as you let the fire in your eyes flicker with the intensity of a thousand suns.

The anthropomorphic black wolf stared up at you, his pupils dilating as the shadowy tendrils retreated back into his body, his fur standing on end from the intense heat radiating from your dragon form. The alley, once a silent sanctuary, now reverberated with the harsh echo of your challenge. The neon lights above flickered and dimmed, as if the very essence of the city was aware of the ancient power that had just unfurled its wings. His grin was gone, replaced by a look of utter shock. "You… you're mocking me?" he managed to rasp, his voice a hiss of disbelief. "You dare to stand against the very force that has claimed the mightiest of beings?"

: You felt the alleyway shrink around you as your laughter, a thunderous sound that could shake the very foundations of the world, rolled out from your massive dragon form. It was a laugh filled with the weight of a hundred lifetimes, of countless escapes from the clutches of the grim reaper. "Oh, I'm not mocking you, 'Detah'," you rumbled, your breath hot and smoky as it washed over his snout. You leaned closer, your nose almost touching his, your blue eyes burning with the intensity of a star going supernova. "I'm reminding you," you whispered, "that I have danced with the void before, and I've always come out the victor."

With a surge of power that seemed to shake the very essence of the alley, you swiped your massive dragon claw across Death's chest, tearing through his cloak and the very fabric of his being. His eyes went wide with shock as you pinned him against the cold, damp bricks, the crimson blood seeping from his wound like a grim river of regret. "Now," you murmured, your voice a symphony of triumph and malice, "you're mine, Wolf."

His eyes, once a fiery red, had dulled to a lifeless black, and his body had gone limp beneath your mighty dragon form. A soft whimper escaped his muzzle, a sound that was at once pitiful and haunting. For a brief moment, the alley was still, the air thick with the smell of burnt shadow and the coppery tang of blood. You leaned closer, the warmth of your breath mingling with the cold emanating from his wounds. Your forked tongue slithered out, caressing his snout with a gentle touch that belied the ferocity of the battle that had just unfolded. He responded with a kiss that was more of a desperate clinging than a show of affection, his teeth grazing against your scales in a silent plea for mercy. But mercy was not yours to give, not to one such as he. You smirked, the fire in your eyes dimming to a smolder as you tasted the sweet victory of his defeat. "You've played your games, Wolf," you rumbled, your voice deep and resonant with power. "But now, the tables have turned."

He whimpered again, his body trembling beneath the weight of your dragon's claw. He knew what you were, what you had become. The alley's shadows danced with the flicker of your purple scales, casting an eerie glow over his defeated form. With a strange mix of fear and fascination, he turned his neck to you, offering the soft, vulnerable flesh. You leaned in, your teeth grazing his fur, and then with a swift motion, you clamped down, piercing his skin. You didn't want to kill him, no, not yet. You wanted to show him the true nature of power, of dominance. The warm, metallic taste of his blood filled your mouth, a bittersweet victory that only served to fuel your hunger for more. After a brief, savoring moment, you released him, licking the wound clean. "Come on, love," you murmured, your voice a low purr of satisfaction. "Let's leave this place."

[teecupangel]

Hey, wanna read me defending myself in my plans to multiclass Desmond into a Rogue-Thief/Ranger-Gloom Stalker?

The thing about trying to play as Desmond in Baldur's Gate is that I'm forcing the narrative to work around my need to min-max in terms of classes allocation.

Narrative choices are easy because Desmond's more on the side of neutral good, sliding into true neutral with the whole 'stab them when it's clear they killed an innocent' guideline.

But the classes though... the thing about Assassins in Assassin's Creed is that they're not exactly a 1:1 of the Assassin subclass.

So my reasoning for the plan to multiclass Desmond into Rogue-Thief (4)/Ranger-Gloom Stalker(5) is...

Thief subclass is chosen because [Fast Hands] means +1 bonus action which would make it easier for Desmond to hide and/or dash/disengage. Hiding is the best way to get the Sneak Attack actions. [Second-Story Work] means less falling damage which could made into our narrative workaround for Leaps of Faith. Assassin subclass was passed over because Thief has more utility and Assassin is more combat oriented with focus on attacking targets that have not taken a turn yet. This could, narratively, be more or less the equivalent to the Hidden Blade's oneshot kills but it doesn't work because early level Rogue has a hard time oneshoting enemies at low level. Rogue will be leveled up to Lv4 so Desmond can get another Feat (Ability Improvement: Dex +2 to up it to 20)

Gloom Stalker Ranger is chosen because Favoured Enemy [Bounty Hunter] gives Investigation Proficiency and Natural Explorer [Urban Tracker] gives Sleight of Hand Proficiency. Narratively, Urban Tracker goes well with Desmond's background and his Bleeds are experts in the urban areas of their time. Anything that gives more Investigation Proficiency is good as part of Eagle Vision. Lv 2 will let us get Speak with Animals and Enhance Leap (Enhance Leap is pretty much necessary since Str is needed for jumping but Str is a dump stat for Rogues so yeah, we'll have Desmond cheat for this one). Lv 4 will let Desmond get Gloom Stalker subclass and automatically get Disguise Self which means we can put the Disguise Self helmet (I forgot the name) back to camp ([Dread Ambusher] is also more consistent than the Assassin subclass unique skills)

The reason why we're going for up to Lv 5 Gloom Stalker is that Desmond can get an Extra Attack + Misty Step at Lv 5 (and he can get Past without Trace as well for extra stealth)

This does leave 3 more levels to allocate and we have some options:

Rogue up to Lv 7 so Desmond can get Uncanny Dodge + Evasion and an additional 1d6 for Sneak Attack damage.

Ranger up to Lv8 so Desmond can get another feat (probably Dungeon Delver for Advantage on Perception and Saving Throws to avoid/resist traps or Savage Attacker if Desmond can now safely melee) and can get Land's Stride so he won't be slowed down by difficult terrain.

Rogue up to Lv 5 for Uncanny Dodge and an additional 1d6 for Sneak Attack damage + Ranger up to Lv 7 for an additional Lv2 Spell Slot.

Or... we go and lean into Desmond being a bartender and have him multiclass up to Lv3 Bard (or Lv2 Bard with Lv5 Rogue + Lv5 Ranger) so he can have more spells (probably Detect Thoughts and maybe something like Feather Fall? idk) or we go for Lv3 Druid (Wild Shape) as a reference to Tyranny of Washington DLC (which does have wolf and bear in the Circle of the Moon)

[whumpdoyoumean]

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Tagged by @deepwoundsandfadedscars! Thank youuu!!

I don't know who to tag which I guess defeats the purpose of these things but please if you see this and feel like playing along, do it!!!

First lines are under the cut!

The Broken Hearts Tour (The Penumbra Podcast; Junoverse) "Are we sure this set list is where we want it?" Juno asks, plucking the still-warm piece of paper from the printer tray before it's even had the chance to settle and skimming his eyes over the page with a thoughtful frown.

~

Everybody Bleeds This Way (911) As bitterly as he likes to complain, Buck doesn't really mind cleaning the rig, especially on days like today. It's late morning and the sun is shining in a cloudless blue sky, and it's warm enough that the water they're using to spray down the outside of the engine is refreshing rather than shiver-inducing. Somehow it's worked out that it's just four of them-Buck, Eddie, Hen, and the captain-and as things wind down, Buck is feeling ready for some end-of-shift shenanigans.

~

Prodigal (Fire Country) Bode wants to kill him.

He wants to kill Odin.

~

We Can Be Heroes, Just For One Day (Stranger Things) Eddie and Dustin aren’t in the trailer, and the makeshift rope looks like it’s been cut, lying in a heap on the floor beneath the gate. Steve’s stomach lurches. He almost throws up, probably would if he’d actually eaten anything recently. Instead he dry heaves twice, until he’s left trying to catch his breath.

If anything happened to them, if anything happened to that kid--he can’t even think about it. 

~

Many Partings (Stranger Things) “Nancy!”

Steve has seen a lot of terrifying shit these past three years. Confusing, sickening, shake-you-to-your-core action horror movie bullshit. Not just seen, but been through. Survived . 

But of all the terrifying shit, this is the most afraid he’s been. 

Because in this moment he feels truly, utterly helpless. 

And because this is Nancy. 

“Nancy, wake up!”

~

Damn Your Kiss (And the Awful Things You Do) (TPP; Junoverse) As much as he doesn’t actually want to be here, Juno has to admit pit boss has a nice ring to it. With the casino owner herself overseeing all activity on the floor from the security booth, really what he is is a glorified bouncer, here to act as a deterrent in case anyone feels like cheating. Taumata seems to think the eyepatch and frown give him an edge.

~

Beside the Still Waters (Grantchester) Will is in a particularly good mood. It's a warm, sunny evening, the streets lit by the orange glow that comes in the last weeks of summer, with a hint of crisp coolness hitching a ride on the tail end of the light breeze. He's just finished checking up on Matthew, who's doing remarkably well considering everything he's been through.

~

Juno Steel and the Inside (Wo)Man (TPP; Junoverse) The case starts the same way many cases start, with two words, spoken by Juno Steel.

"Why me?"

~

Break (Wolf 359) Eiffel looks over at the MRI machine from his perch on the table and shivers. The whole hospital is cold, but this room feels colder and the thin gray sweats and white tee they've given him don't do much by way of warmth. His arms are covered in goosebumps. But the shiver that runs down his spine has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Something about the small, cramped space is awakening an icy dread deep within himself, an inexplicable need to be anywhere but there.

~

The Spy Left Out in the Cold (The Man From UNCLE) Waverly is unfolding a crudely drawn map when Napoleon stretches in his seat in an obvious display of boredom that has Illya rolling his eyes.

"I don't know what you're so worried about. It sounds like a simple extraction," Napoleon says with a sniff.

"Oh?" Waverly says.

"Another rich politician's entitled son, kidnapped from his private school or Wimbledon lessons, taken for ransom or leverage or whatever these bastards are after. We'll just waltz in, kidnap him back, and take him home to daddy. Simple."