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dismalzelenka · 3 years ago

Note

For DADW: "Either way you choose you cannot win" for Handers. "I choose to not understand these signs" for Nanders.

Played around with some more canon divergent Journeyverse AU 😌 first @dadrunkwriting prompt I've taken in probably three years and it goes absolutely nowhere and also the prompt has been VERY loosely interpreted but here we are 🥂 bottoms up kiddos

“Either way you choose, you cannot win,” Fenris hissed.

“We are far past the point of winning,” Anders shot back.

Hawke rubbed her eyes with her palms. She was mostly concerned about the fact that they were still in the Deep Roads, and she was being completely honest, she was only half paying attention to the argument unfolding in front of her. It happened enough; she already knew how this would play out. They'd yell it out and then reluctantly slink back and apologize and everyone else would breathe a sigh of relief for some fucking peace and quiet. It was positively formulaic at this point.

She was far too preoccupied with other matters today: namely, the Grey Warden archer carefully fixing the fletching on his arrows at the edge of camp.

His name was Nathaniel. He'd served with Anders in Amaranthine.

They'd been lovers.

Quite frankly that last part bothered her less than she'd have expected, but beneath the faint prickling of jealousy that wove its way beneath her skin whenever he and Anders locked gazes, there was far more fascination on her part than anything else. The secrets were what ate away at her more than anything else, but she'd grown up being taught the importance of keeping them enough to let well enough alone.

It helped that he was easy on the eyes.

“Is something the matter, my lady?” he said quietly.

“Just — Hawke,” she croaked. “I'm not a — it's just my — Hawke is fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'm — going to go over there.” She pointed vaguely in the opposite direction and wandered that way immediately.

Alright, with a voice like that, she was pretty sure she couldn't blame Anders one bit, she decided with a huff. She kicked a stray piece of stone and watched it bounce down the edge of an overhang into the darkness below.

Sure hope that didn't awaken something.

“You alright, Sparkles?” Varric's voice floated over her as she scuffed her boot into the stone.

“I would be if you'd stop calling me Sparkles,” she shot back automatically.

He laughed, a hearty sound from the center of his chest. “Trust me, you'll like the alternatives I came up with even less.”

“Try me,” she muttered.

—

She'd been beginning to nod off against the rather large rock she'd slumped against when someone shook her awake by the shoulder. “Are you alright, love?”

Why did everyone keep asking her that?

“Just tired,” she mumbled automatically. Maybe if she convinced enough people, she'd start believing it herself.

“Have you even eaten yet?”

“Why, were you too busy picking fights to notice anything else around you?” Ouch. That wasn't fair, and she winced the second it came out of her mouth. She squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I'm — I didn't mean that. This place makes me jumpy. I don't know how he stands it.” She jerked her head at Nathaniel, casually reading something by the firelight. She was babbling and she knew it, but she was too wound up to make herself stop.

“Journey. Breathe.” Hands on her shoulders, gentle touches drawing her back to reality. “I'm fairly certain the Deep Roads could make an arse out of Andraste herself.”

“Are you so smitten, that I could insult you to your face and you would still compare me to Andraste?” she teased as she tipped her head back and finally met his eyes.

“Keep looking at me like that and I'd let you get away with a lot more than insults,” he breathed before planting a kiss on her forehead and pulling her to her feet. “And you haven't eaten, have you,” he said finally with a flat stare.

“Is that a statement or a question?”

“It's a very exasperated healer who doesn't wish to see the light of his life waste away into nothing before we see daylight again.”

“You're certainly one to talk,” she grumbled, but she let him lead her back to camp anyway with minimal complaint. “Light of your life, you say?” she prodded with a grin when he thrust a bowl of beans into her hands. “What colour?”

“Hmm.” He paused thoughtfully. “D’you know the moment you open your eyes in direct sunlight after a night of drinking so much you forget your own existence?” His grin broadened. “That colour.”

She smacked him on the chest in offense. “Prat,” she snorted.

She trailed off when she looked up and saw Nathaniel watching them with an odd expression on his face. Anders cupped her face between his hands. “I'm with you,” he said firmly. “Past be damned. This is just a favour for an old friend. Nothing more.”

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just squeezed his hand and left it alone.

—

It was impossible to mark the passage of days in the Deep Roads; Hawke awoke from a markedly troubled sleep and helped tear down the camp in exhausted silence. The entire place reeked of death and rot tinged with the sickly sweet scent of something that wanted to be enticing but managed to land well on the other side of foul. It reminded her of her first trip into the Deep Roads, and of her less than glamorous voyage to Kirkwall before all of this ever began.

“Where did you learn how to fight?” Nathaniel asked curiously after a skirmish with darkspawn left her winded and depleted enough she managed to knock back an entire lyrium potion without gagging. Sweet, metallic, and unnaturally cold as it slipped down her throat like distilled sweat. The taste still made her shudder even as she stuffed the bottle back into her pack.

“My father taught me,” she said with a grimace. She spat the last of the taste onto the ground. “Ugh. Awful stuff.”

“Was your father also an apostate?”

“Of course not. The Circle gave him permission to traipse about the countryside with a wife and three children. Sometimes they sent Templars after him, but only as a friendly little game.”

“I'm choosing to interpret that as a joke that wasn't at my expense.”

“So you're an idiot and a poor comedian.”

He snorted. “And you're remarkably short tempered for a Champion.”

“You didn't think I killed the Arishok with my winning personality, did you? I'm sorry to say you're going to be awfully disappointed.”

“You're working so hard to win me over,” he said dryly. “And here I've been told I'm quite likeable beneath the scowl.”

“Is that so?” She squared her stance in front of him and planted her hands firmly on her hips with a smirk. “What happened to the last person who tried to win you over?”

His gaze flickered ahead of them to Anders as his expression darkened. “I watched him die,” he muttered. He took a deep breath. “We're falling behind. We shouldn't linger.”

#dadrunkwriting #f!handers #past nanders #eventual nahanders #this is probably my least developed AU of the three of them #weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

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Cry

Lorcan Salvaterre and Elide Lochan modern au

A/N: Alrighty alrighty I’M SORRY. I’m not posting anything lately cause I’ve been busy (very fucking much) and I just want to let you all know that I’ll write every single day of MOF even when October is finished (even if that’s not the point of those challenged but still)

I was on tiktok the other day and I saw this video of a couple in a long distance relationship where she surprised him and he CRIED. A LOT. It’s become one of my favourite things in the world to be honest. He really seemed exhausted coming in his room and he literally SNIFFED the air, cause he could SMELL her and I D I E D.

Anyway, this is basically the plot. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,948

Lorcan would rather shoot himself in the head than listen to Rowan talk about contemporary history for another hour.

He promised him that he would help him prepare one of the billions of exams he seemed to have every month because his girlfriend, Aelin, had abandoned him at the last minute, leaving him alone. Knowing the type, Lorcan would have bet the house that she had told him a lie not to have another long and boring talk about the Cold War.

As much as he loved his best friend, just the idea of what Rowan was studying made his eyelids close faster than any sleeping pill he had ever taken. And Lorcan had taken a lot of medication to help him sleep in his life.

Things had not gone very well lately. With Elide on the other side of the world and their schedules that fit perfectly so that they never got to see each other on skype, he hadn't seen his girlfriend for almost five days. Lorcan had never been an excessively soft guy, who felt the need to talk twenty-four hours a day just to tell others that his relationship was perfect, but the distance was playing tricks on him and the fact that he couldn't sleep well only added stress and nervousness.

There was also the small detail that his father - or rather, his sperm donor - had died a few weeks before and his mother, who had always been the only parental figure in his life, really wanted to give him the letter that the man had written to him only a few days before his death.

Lorcan had tried to read it, several times, even on a call with Elide, but every time he read the first lines, where the man expressed his sincerest apologies for never having been part of his life, attributing part of those faults to his mother too, he could never bring himself to finish it.

"...can you at least pretend to be listening?" Rowan asked exasperatedly, running his hand over his face.

Lorcan closed his eyes sighing, opening them a few moments later. Rowan was staring at him slightly pissed off. He could perfectly understand that talking to someone who didn't even seem to be in the same room as you could be irritating.

"Sorry Ro, I know I told you I'd stay until seven, but I can't do it." he got up, without looking Rowan in the face, but he saw him stiffening, "If I hear you say Gorbachev one more time, I might throw up."

"Are you okay?" he asked him in a lower tone of voice. Two girls sitting at the table next to them turned around, immediately bringing their attention back to their books when Lorcan gave them a hard look.

He tightened his jaw, putting his stuff in his backpack, "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"I wouldn't have started to worry if you'd just told me you were fine," Rowan pointed out, leaning against the table with his elbows and pushing towards him. Lorcan put on his jacket, puffing.

"Well, I'm actually fine," he said, finally looking him in the eye. He felt his breath hitch when he saw that Rowan seemed genuinely concerned about what was surely disturbing his friend and had to turn around so he wouldn't let him see how bad he really was.

"I know you don't do these..." he paused, frowning, "things. But if you need to talk to someone -"

Lorcan interrupted him by putting one hand forward, "Rowan, listen," he laughed dryly, "You're right, I don't do these things and you're starting to sound like Fenrys," his friend made a disgusted grimace, "Exactly, so cut the bullshit and don't ever try to be all mama hen on me again, okay?"

Rowan nodded bitterly, "It's just that Aelin told me that you and Elide," a hint of pain shot through his chest at the girl's name, "haven't talked for a few days and I just wanted to know if things were going well?" he asked hesitantly.

Lorcan pinched the bridge of his nose, "What exactly don't you understand about the sentence 'I'm fine'?"

"I'm just checking on a friend who won't stop bullshitting me," Rowan pointed out abruptly.

"I don't need you to check up on me."

Rowan's face softened so much that Lorcan knew that anything he would say in a few seconds would make him lose every ounce of patience.

"Is this about your father's letter?" he looked him in the face, reducing his lips to a thin line, then Lorcan turned around, without even saying goodbye, and walked out of the library.

It was not because of the letter.

It was the fact that his mother had felt the need to give it to him. It was the fact that the woman who knew him better than anyone else in the world, the woman who had seen him in the most vulnerable moments of his life and who had raised him alone, breaking her back day and night to make sure he had a future, had accepted the words written on that letter to be the truth.

Your mother prevented me from seeing you. Don't be angry at me, but at her. It wasn't me who decided to abandon you. Agnes told me that I could not see you until you were sixteen years old. It is not my fault that you did not have enough during your childhood.

A lot of bullshit if you asked Lorcan.

His father had left the second he found out that his mother had gotten pregnant and took every penny he could find in their house to buy another dose or bottle of alcohol.

Lorcan knew that his mother had read it because when she gave it to him, the envelope had been torn. And he knew that she hadn't done it with the intention of violating his privacy, but rather to protect him. He certainly wouldn't blame the mother if she still cared about her baby when it came to the man who got her pregnant and then ran away.

He did not realize that he had stopped in the middle of the university garden, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the ground until a drop hit his forehead. He looked up and the sky split in two.

All the students who were lying on the lawn stood up screaming, putting away their notes and books as quickly as possible. Some laughed as they ran for shelter from that sudden thunderstorm, but Lorcan resumed walking normally, reaching his dorm canopy in a few minutes.

Walking up the stairs as slowly as he had never done before, he found himself thinking about his mother yet again.

Perhaps he should have called her.

They had spent hours on the phone after she had given him the letter. Lorcan yelling at her because the man's words had certainly struck Agnes in the heart - so much so that she handed the letter to her son, without warning him that it was all crap - and she apologized to him for something she had thought right almost twenty years earlier.

Lorcan had reassured her that he had never missed a father figure. He had never had the need to go fishing with his "old man" or "play catch".

He ran his hand over his face for the millionth time, sighing and trying to keep his emotions at bay until he reached his room where he would decide what to do. Whether to take a sleeping pill and try to rest or go to the gym and punch something. Or someone, if he found one of the guys willing to get it.

He arrived in front of the door and saw that it was slightly open, the corridor light on. He swelled his chest holding his breath and praying to every god on the face of the earth that Connal or Vaughan were not home, he pushed the door, entering the small apartment.

He heard no noises of any kind and frowned. If one of his roommates had been in the house there would have been at least the sound of pots being thrown into the kitchen or the springs of their beds moving under the weight of both.

Relieved that he had not entered the house in one of their usual hot moments, he made to move and then sensed it.

He smelled the air, stopping in his footsteps.

Lemon and cinnamon.

He would have recognized that scent everywhere.

He turned around, closing the door and expecting to see her hidden back there.

When he couldn't find her, he sprang towards his room, opening that door and throwing his head back laughing when he saw Elide sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Don' t believe it." Lorcan whispered without looking at her.

He turned back into the living room, taking two steps towards the couch before turning around again and putting his hands in his hair.

Elide was smiling at him with her hands clutched between her legs. She got up, going towards him, slowly, "Believe it.”

"You're here," Lorcan told her, with a shocked expression on his face. He couldn't move, the emotion too great to be contained and in a second everything he had taken so long to shove down and not to process reappeared on the surface, hitting him with such force as to take his breath away. Elide smiled at him more widely with bright eyes and threw herself at him.

Lorcan wrapped her in his arms and held her so tightly that she laughed and then stuck his head in the space between her shoulder and neck and breathed deeply.

Without his consent, a sob slipped from his lips.

He felt Elide stiffen, "Lor..."

He knew that if he spoke, he would not be able to recognize his voice as broken it would be.

"You're crying." Elide tried to tear herself away to look him in the face, but Lorcan prevented her, holding her tighter and letting go of more sobs. He was leaning completely against her and when she moved again, to get the backpack off his shoulders, he let her do it, taking her back in his arms immediately afterwards.

One of her hands rubbed his back, "It's alright." she whispered to him, kissing his cheek. "Everything is all right."

"Why are you crying?" her voice was so small, so weak compared to what she normally had. He let go of a trembling breath, taking a step back, and rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes to wipe away the tears.

Elide was holding her hands on his arms and stroking him to calm him down. He bent forward, extending one hand towards her neck and passed a thumb over her jaw. She half-closed her eyes, looking at his face. Lorcan looked back, with watery eyes.

He hugged her again with a surge, kissing her forehead and sighing with relief, "I missed you so fucking much."

Elide replied in a muffled voice, "So did I."

They lingered a few more minutes, Elide caressing every part of his body she could reach with her short arms, without worrying that he was completely soaked, and Lorcan relaxing under that familiar touch so strong that he could drive out every demon that had dug his way under his skin during those months without her. And even if things hadn't worked out just because Elide had come back for what would surely have been two days, at least he could talk to someone who knew would understand.

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#elorcan #elorcan fic #angst #fluff #lorcan #lorcan salvaterre #elide #elide lochan #college au #modern au #elorcan college au #fic #fan fic #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fan fic #julemmaes writing #my writing

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nalgenewhore · 4 years ago

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masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

+*+*+*+*+*+*

His smile was blinding, as always, but Elide didn’t believe him. There was something holding him back. “We’ve thwarted the wicked witch, El,” Fenrys cheered, lifting her up and spinning her around.

Elide squealed, hitting his back as Fenrys slung her over his shoulder and sprinted down the hallway, “Fen, my whole ass is out!” She reached around, pulling down the hem of her black dress. Fenrys batted her hands away.

“It’s only half out,” he pouted. “And it’s a nice ass, it’d be mean to only let me see.”

Elide slapped him upside the head, hissing, “I don’t even let you see it.” Fenrys snorted and slowed down, putting her down in front of her doors, holding onto her waist to make sure she didn’t tip over on her heels. “And I’m a future duchess, a royal one, I can’t have any of my ass hanging out.” She crossed her arms, glaring up at him.

“You’re a future duchess ‘cause of who, again?”

She rolled her eyes at him, patting his face a bit too hard, “Don’t be a dick, sweetie-pie.”

He laughed, tipping his head back. Elide laughed as well, their hysterical chuckles ringing out throughout the hall.

Eventually they calmed down, grinning wildly as they wiped tears from their eyes.

Elide looked at her door handle, “I should go to bed… do you wanna, I dunno, come in? I was going to watch something, hang out with my dog.”

Fenrys nodded, “For sure, Ellie. My choice, ok?” He winked and opened the door, sneaking past her. With a flourish, he opened the door, bowing as he ushered her in. Elide shook her head at him, but the second she took another step, Fenrys had scooped her up and kicked the door behind him with a resound slam.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Fen, get off, fat ass,” Elide groaned, pushing the man off. It turned out that Fenrys was a cuddler and though they had fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed, by the time Elide woke up the next day, Fenrys had wrapped himself around her.

Fenrys whined, decidedly keeping his eyes screwed shut, “Where is my lovely fiancée running off to, so early in the morn?”

“The gym, now move,” she growled, smiling triumphantly when he rolled away and she could get out of bed.

“I’ll be lonely, with the bed so cold.”

Elide glanced over her shoulder, moving out of the way when Bear bounded to the space she had vacated, “Bear can keep you company.”

“At least Bear will never stop loving me,” Fenrys crooned, fawning over the overgrown puppy. “Won’t you, girlie, huh? No, I’m your favourite.”

“That’s cause you give her treats when she’s not supposed to have any,” Elide scolded jokingly as she padded into her closet to change.

When she walked back out, her long hair smoothed back into a high ponytail, both Bear and Fenrys were passed out, sprawled across the plush mattress. Elide chuckled and kissed them both on their foreheads before heading out.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan danced on the balls of his feet, glaring at the heavy bag as if it had personally offended him before jabbing with his left hand and swiftly following it with a powerful roundhouse. The bag swung when his shin connected with it and Lorcan jabbed again, kicking once more. His hips twisted with the drive of his leg, making sure the kick was strong before springing back.

After a few rounds - switching every minute - his knuckles were smarting from the rough wrapping and Lorcan stopped, breathing heavily.

He could still feel his anger rolling in his gut so he carried out a complicated pattern that ended with a spinning back kick and the heavy bag straining against the chain it hung from as it swung wildly.

Lorcan reached out, steadying it with his hand before he stalked over to his water bottle on the bench. He sat down heavily, his lungs burning. Practically ripping his wraps off, Lorcan blew away a flyaway strand of hair that had escaped the single braid going down the length of his spine.

When the strand just settled back down on the bridge of his nose, Lorcan glared at it, pushing it back.

“Why don’t you just redo your braid?”

He shut his eyes, managing to keep his mouth shut and not curse aloud. With more control than he thought he had, Lorcan stood up and did not look at Elide, “I can’t.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw her prop her hand on her hip, tilting her head to the side in a condescending way, “Why not?”

Lorcan almost told her to fuck off and mind her own business, but he’d promised Rowan and Fenrys that he would do his best to be civil. In a terse tone, he bit out, “Hair is sacred. I have to have the right intentions when I touch it and I’m pissed right now, so.”

“Why are you pissed?” Any condescension seemed to have left her stance, replaced with intrigue. That probably had more to do with a desired elaboration of what his hair meant to him - not that Lorcan had any inclination to do so - than his being pissed.

He snapped, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

Elide rolled her eyes, somehow looking down her pert nose at him despite the fact he towered over her by almost half a metre, “I was just wondering.”

“Well,” he narrowed his eyes, giving her a mocking smile, “don’t.” Lorcan sipped from his water bottle, watching her carefully as Elide moved around him. He tensed when she walked behind him.

Elide noticed, her face somewhat falling. “I’m not going to touch your hair, Lorcan,” she said quietly. “I would never do that.”

Lorcan was speechless. He slowly put the bottle down, trying to find the words. Elide frowned, looking down at the floor. She picked at her nails, frowning harder at the ring on her finger. Without a thought, Lorcan quipped as he stood, “Having second thoughts, sweetheart?”

Like always, she snapped her head up, “No, I am not. And I am not your sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I see that you enjoy the possessiveness, but I didn’t say my sweetheart… sweetheart,” he said, with a wink and somewhat filthy grin. “Have a fun workout, Elide.” Lorcan picked up his t-shirt before sliding past her to the treadmill to cool down.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide fumed as she pulled herself up on the bar and slowly lowered herself. She glared into the mirror at Lorcan, who was jogging on a treadmill.

She finished her pull-ups and dropped down, landing lightly on her feet. About to move to her next rep, Elide looked over her shoulder to find the door swinging shut behind Lorcan.

Something like anger, anger she’d never known, sparked in her chest and Elide chased after him, slamming the door open, “Hey!”

Lorcan glanced behind at her, a brow arched, “What?” He didn’t stop walking, his long legs eating up distance faster than hers ever could. Elide sped up, her pace faltering when her ankle smarted.

She didn’t notice how he slowed slightly, a concerned gaze zoning in on her leg. Soon enough, Elide had caught up to him, “I don’t get what your fucking problem is. What did I ever do to you that was so bad that you felt the need to tell the whole world that I was unfit for what I was born to do?”

Lorcan stopped walking and looked down at her with a blank expression.

Elide seethed, hissing, “I know you think I’m some joke, Salvaterre. Did you and your horrid aunt sit around with that horrid lordling to plan that dance? Wh-what, you came to save me like you were a fucking hero only to humiliate me?”

“We danced for a minute, Elide,” he said drily, “not exactly what I would plan, if I had planned it.” Her heart cracked a bit in her chest, to hear him be so dismissive about it. Despite herself, despite everything that had happened, it meant something to her. It meant so damned much to her.

She frowned, shrugging her shoulder, “It was more than a minute.”

Amusement stole across his breathtaking face. His perfectly shaped lips curled into a crooked smile, “Well, maybe a minute and a half.”

“Fine, it was a minute and a half, but you lied.”

He tilted his head to the side, “And how did I do that?”

Elide crossed her arms over her chest, “You didn’t tell me who you were and that you were trying to steal my title.”

Lorcan rolled his eyes, “Oh, forgive me, your royal Grace, I guess I forgot that it’s customary to show a girl your entire family tree before dancing with her.”

She gasped, “Oh, you- I’m going to kill you.” They heard voices down the hall and Elide grabbed his arm, dragging him with her into a cozy broom closet. She flipped the light on, glaring up at him, “The lie dance is not the point, Lorcan. It’s–”

“What is the point then,” he asked, flicking the light off.

Elide sent him a withering glower before she turned it back on, “The point is that I’m onto you. I know what you’re trying to do.”

Lorcan raised his brows in a fake impressed look, “Oh, really?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Do you not think I saw you last night, talking to Fenrys?”

Elide couldn’t discern what flashed over his face before he schooled it into a visage of cool neutrality, “I was already on the balcony. Your fiancé came to talk to me, so…”

“That is irrelevant. I beat your little game and you’re trying to cheat at it. I’m going to marry Fenrys, Lorcan, why does that annoy you so much?”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about him. He has his own life, you know. Fen doesn’t magically exist to fix your problems,” Lorcan snapped, a different type of indignation flaring in his gaze. Elide played it off as jealousy and the bitterness of defeat now that there was nothing in her way.

“Problems,” she laughed coldly, stepping in as close as she could and stabbing her sharp nail into his chest, “that you created, Lorcan. You think I’m any happier with uprooting his life?”

He shrugged, his face settled into cold disdain.

Elide laughed again, the sound hollow. She opened her mouth, about to rip into him when someone opened the door. She tried to jump back, but in the enclosed space, there was nowhere to go.

The poor maid gasped, her eyes as wide as saucers. They snapped between Lorcan and Elide and she stammered, “O-oh my g-go-ds, I-I’m, I am so sorry, ma’am.”

Elide tried to argue, but the girl closed the door, ignoring her protests. She rounded on Lorcan, her gaze like a live wire. “You–”

Lorcan reached for the door handle, turning it and pushing the door open, “You should really learn more about your fiancé.”

Without another word, he stalked away, leaving Elide stunned in the broom closet.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Channeling all her anger into her arm, Elide threw the stick and watched it as it sailed through the air. Bear barked once, quickly tearing after it into the woods.

Someone whistled from behind her. Elide whirled, relaxing slightly when she saw that it was only Fenrys. “Damn, Lochan, you’ve been holding out on me. Who knew you could throw like that?”

“Thanks,” she said shortly, turning back to keep an eye on Bear. “What are you doing out here.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Fenrys commented, sidling up to stand next to her. It was late and dark, but with the lights of the palace, Elide could see that he had already gotten prepared for bed. The hood of his Doranelle University hoodie was pulled over his head, but the shine of the silk durag he wore to protect his waves peeked through. “Lorcan told me he saw you out here.”

Elide scowled, not answering as Bear bounded back and dropped the stick. Her heavy tail wagged enthusiastically as she sat and waited patiently. Fenrys picked up the stick before Elide could and tossed it, smiling at the way Bear eagerly chased after it. “So, what’d Lorcan do this time?”

She groaned, letting out a slight scream of frustration, “I hate him so much. He- I- I can’t even articulate how much he bothers me. Like, today, for instance,” Elide didn’t notice Fenrys’ cheeky grin as she launched into her tirade, “I went to the gym and he’s just there, being pissed for no good reason and acting like I would- would hurt him in some way!”

He tilted his head to the side, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweatshorts, “How did you get that?”

Elide rolled her eyes, “His stup- his braid was coming undone and he kept blowing away the hair and so I asked him why he didn’t just redo it and he-” she breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly to collect herself, he supposed. “He told me that he couldn’t redo his braid without good intentions and since he was angry, he wouldn’t do it. I mean,” she scoffed, “what does he have to be angry about? If anything, I should be the pissed off person in this scenario. And I am!”

His friend began to pace back and forth, not noticing how Bear trotted back to drop the stick down in front of Fenrys. “Then he tells me that me uprooting your life is somehow my problem when he’s the thief. Throne thief.” Elide threw her hands up, “And, like, he’s acting like he knows you and you guys are friends…” she trailed off, the words dying in her throat when Fenrys looked away and pushed his hood down.

He ran his hand over his wave cap, blowing out slowly.

“You guys are friends.” Elide drew back, wrapping her arms around herself. “Well, ok, um… I think I need a minute–”

“El, it’s really not like that. He didn’t know until I got here and- and we haven’t seen each other in years,” Fenrys protested. “We went to the same boarding school and we roomed together with my brother and Rowan and his cousin Vaughan. I’m not helping him with any of it, I would never do that.”

Elide looked at him distrustfully, staring directly into his eyes. Fenrys fought the impulse to avoid her piercing gaze. After a few moments, Elide sighed, her shoulders slumping inwards, “Of course, I’m- I’m sorry, Fen. He just drives me fucking crazy.”

Fenrys raised a lightened brow, giving her a slow smile. Elide glanced at him momentarily, distracted by Bear, who was barreling at full force towards the pair. She looked back at him in shock and horror, “Oh my gods, no, Fen! I am not into Lorcan.” She hissed his name with a visceral disgust.

He picked up the stick before she could and hurled it away, laughing as he ran after the dog, “I didn’t say anything!”

Elide exclaimed in rage, flipping him off when he looked over his shoulder, “Yeah, you better fucking run, Marama!”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: hey ! lorcan is indigenous in this story, specifically lakota, and his hair holds a lot of meaning ! here are some super cool links for you to educate yourself further on the significance of hair in lakota culture because i am the furthest thing from an expert!

https://sistersky.com/blogs/sister-sky/the-significance-of-hair-in-native-american-culture

http://keepersoftheword.org/traditions/native-americans-long-hair/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/ca/blog/understanding-grief/201710/death-and-bereavement-among-the-lakota

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @januarystears @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @magicalunicorngypsy @elriel4life @sensitiveillyriancomment/ask to be added or removed from the tag list 🥰

#knowing me knowing you #kmky chapter seven #princess diaries au #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #it's not nice to lie elide 🙄 we all know what u want rn

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lovingmyselfcore · 4 years ago

Text

i can go anywhere i want just not home

A fic based on My Tears Ricochet!! Highly recommend listening to the song while reading. Very angsty, it's if something happened and Aelin was forced out of Terrasen and had to fake her death. So yeah. I'm working on my Illicit Affairs one so that should be soon? No promises

**Not beta-read or anything we die like men here and I think I'm allergic to editing after 8pm so I can't be blamed if it's really bad

“Do it,” She spat, staring up at him - at all of them. Rowan was the only one who met her eyes, he didn’t flinch away from her, he never flinched away from her. Until recently, at least. There was a sort of comfort in knowing that she was horrible enough that Rowan Whitethorn had finally flinched.

She felt that achingly familiar lick of flame, starting at the base of her spine slowly curling up, lighting the hollows in her spine and bones, in her soul.

Something must be smoldering in her eyes because Rowan shifted, almost imperceptibly. Only being his mate and carranam did she recognize it for what it was. He’d shifted enough to have placed himself between them. Between her, Chaol, and Dorian.

With a bitter laugh, she spat again, “It’s come to this? You’re protecting them from me!” Her voice got shrill.

“Fireheart,” Rowan started but she cut him off.

“No. No. Don’t. You. Dare. Call me that.” It took all her years of training in hiding herself, of becoming other people, that allowed her to keep her voice steady.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to curl up in her massive bed, half sprawled against the comforting warmth of her husband, with Fleetfoot resting in her lap and a good book in one hand, the delicious chocolate hazelnut cake an elderly woman in town had learned to make just for her in the other. She wanted to go home.

But home was a long way from here.

Dorian shoved forward, elbowing past Rowan, ignoring Chaol’s muttered warning, and stopped once he and Aelin were nose-to-nose.

“We didn’t want to do this.”

She just hummed, not backing away from him.

Those flames still curled, ready for her to wield.

“This is better than the alternative,” Chaol spoke up and she and Dorian both moved to look at him.

She arched a brow and schooled her face into that indifferent arrogance she knew made nearly everyone see red. “The alternative? What was the alternative to forcing me to flee my kingdom I have fought so hard to keep and fake my own death with only,” She jabbed a finger at each of them, “You three knowing the details of what happened.”

“The alternative was taking away the fake part,” Dorian said, cold water to match her own burning flame.

She started, and against her better judgment, looked at Rowan. “You were going to,” She swallowed and tried very hard to ignore the agony in his gorgeous eyes. “Kill me?”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think anybody voted for that.” Dorian offered.

“Voted?” Her voice went shrill again and she saw Rowan twitch. “You all voted on what to do with me?”

“You couldn’t stay in Terrasen anymore, not after what you did, so yes. We voted.”

“And you three are the lucky bastards who have to force me out.”

“Force is only needed if you decide to fight us, Aelin,” Chaol said.

She ignored how pointed the words were, how they angered those festering embers.

“So Lorcan didn’t volunteer? I was sure he’d be the first to want to force me out of my own home and fake my death.”

“Nobody volunteered, Aelin. Nobody wanted this to be the way it went.”

“Hmm, well it seems someone did. Since we’re here, and all.” Her voice dropped low and she was suddenly talking only to Rowan. “Was what I did so unforgivable that you don’t love me anymore?”

He couldn’t look at her, this man, who used to look at her like the stars were born in her eyes, now couldn’t look her in the face. “I’ll always love you, Fi-” He cleared his throat, “Aelin. Don’t ever think I stopped but-” He looked like words had become too hard and merely stared at whatever his eyes were fixed on, somewhere behind her left ear.

Chaol and Dorian were both looking anywhere but at the two of them.

Looking at him in the dying sunlight filtering through the web of branches formed from ancient oak trees, the way his eyes glittered, the hard lines of him all highlighted, and his hair ruffled from the autumn wind, her resolve broke. She took a step, then another, then she was running. He caught her, swept her up, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

It was oddly reminiscent of a time long ago, in Adarlan. That, however, was a reunion. This was a goodbye.

Tears streaked down her face and he held her closer; as if trying to further commit all of her to memory. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” She whispered.

“I know. I am too.”

She pulled away first. He wiped her tears away with painstaking gentleness and kissed her forehead, “This may not be the end.” From his tone and the way he was looking at her, he believed it as much as she did. Which is to say, this is the end. “Promise me you’ll stay alive.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Take care of Terrasen for me. They need you.”

He nodded, his hands still resting on her face, making no move to leave. “Where will you go?”

She shrugged helplessly, “Maybe I’ll bring Lillian back. I don’t know. I’ll just stay in the shadows for a few centuries, try and build a life where nobody knows me, nobody knows Terrasen.”

He nodded again and slowly dragged his hands from her face. She was the one that was ‘dying’ but he looked ready to keel over himself. He took a few unsteady steps backward and stooped to pick up a backpack they’d brought. He tossed it to her and she caught it easily, slinging it along her back.

She turned and looked at Dorian and Chaol, biting her lip. She wanted them to hurt, she wanted them to feel the betrayal she felt. Not a sting, no, she felt like she’d been stabbed. And as someone who had been stabbed many times before, she felt confident in her analogy. But they were her friends, once.

Make them hurt a voice whispered deep from inside her. She clenched her fists and felt the flames bubbling up.

Aelin. Rowan. In her head.

She breathed in deeply and nodded to them once, they nodded back. She acknowledged the pain in their eyes with not a small amount of satisfaction.

She took off sprinting into the forest and didn’t look back.

~~~~~~

They were walking back to Terrasen, they’d let Aelin off at the border.

“Rowan,” Dorian laid a hand on his arm, “Are you-”

He shrugged the young king off and shifted, taking to the skies, as far from them, from anyone, as he could get.

“We made the right decision, right?” Dorian’s voice was so strained it cut at Chaol’s heart.

“Yeah, yes. This was the right choice. The only choice.”

He nodded, but Chaol could tell the doubts lingered. As long as Aelin was out there, on her own, free but never allowed to return home, the doubts would always linger.

~~~~~~

Her knees buckled not far from where she’d taken off running from the three of them. She flew forward, throwing her hands out and scraping her palms along the rocks as slid to a stop. She tried to breathe, ragged, shaking breaths, as she tried to calm her mind. The world blacked-out around the edges and a whimper fell from her mouth. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t fucking do this.

A weak scream ripped from her throat and she dug her hands harder into the rocks, they sliced her palms open, warm blood trickling into the grass.

She tried to wrangle the fire, she tried to use the tactics Rowan had taught her what felt like lifetimes ago, but just like it had which led to her being here, she couldn’t control it.

It didn’t explode like she thought it would, it bubbled. Like lava in a volcano, it bubbled out of her, hot smoldering fire, trickling down her face like tears, tracing lines along her body like blood. It covered the grass around her and spread, her cry was futile. It burnt straight through some of the ancient oak trees, bringing them down and melting them entirely into the earth.

Despite the chaos around her, despite that first anguished cry, she knelt in the dirt. Wind ripped her hair away from her face as she burned the world around her, nobody could say Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius went out gracefully.

~~~~~~

Despite the initial burning at the border, no sign of Aelin had surfaced. He had to give her credit, the woman knew how to disappear. The thought sent an ache through him, intensifying what was already there.

He’d been like some kind of ghoul, Lorcan and Fenrys traded shifts watching over him, making sure he bathed and ate. Someone always sat at his bedside with him, waking him when the nightmares took him. Nightmares that Aelin was still held captive by Maeve. When they resurfaced, the first night his hand had shot out, seeking a warm body that wasn’t there. He’d flown into a fit of panic until someone had brought someone in. One of the women, Elide, maybe? They had calmed him enough to tell him Aelin wasn’t with Maeve. They weren’t in the war anymore. He remembered where Aelin was. That he didn’t know where Aelin was, only that he had sent her away. In some ways, that hurt worse.

Most of them had moved into the castle and would stay until most of Terrasen, until Rowan, settled enough to be left. Most of them were Lords and Ladies, however, so they alternated. One week Elide would stay at the castle, the next week Lorcan would. The same went for Aedion and Lysandra. He knew it hurt them, being separated like that, but they never once complained. Rowan hadn’t entirely been paying attention when they had decided how Aelin’s ‘death’ had happened, but they’d fabricated a story and spread it. Today was her funeral, nearly a month after she had left - since they’d made her leave - and Terrasen’s people had been in mourning ever since. They would be for a long while, but not nearly as long as Rowan would be.

He wasn’t sure what woke up, it wasn’t even dawn, but his eyes fluttered open. He oriented himself with what - who - surrounded him. Fleetfoot, that damned dog, was at his feet. She hadn’t taken Aelin’s spot, as if hoping she would be back. There was another animal asleep near the foot of the bed, on the floor, Lysandra or Fenrys, and he watched their chest slowly rise and fall and matched his own to it. His heart had been racing. Maybe that’s what woke him, an unseen nightmare.

He crept past the sleeping figure, probably Lysandra then, not as attuned to his every move like he knew Fenrys was.

He slipped out onto the balcony and was struck with the memory of the time Aelin had woken him and he had found her staring with tear-filled eyes at the Kingsflame blooming across those rolling hills.

He surveyed those same hills, the sleeping town below, and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the railing until he was close to tumbling off the edge and stayed there in silence for a long while before speaking. “Damn it Aelin!” He was nearly sobbing, he had no idea when the tears had started. “Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you fight harder? Gods,” He broke off and slumped down, unable to speak thanks to the sobs wracking through him. “Please stay,” He nearly whimpered. “I know it’s too late but please, Fireheart, I need you. I need you.”

He fell asleep there, on the balcony, soothed by the beat of his heart. A beat that sounded suspiciously like an echo of Aelin’s fingers dancing along the pianoforte, drawing out a sound she commanded while quietly singing a lullaby she had told him her mother sang to her when she couldn’t sleep.

His eyes closed and he could’ve sworn her voice carried on the wind, that lullaby, followed by a nearly inaudible, “I love you, Rowan. I love you.”

~~~~~~

Half the time she slept in the forest like some kind of wild animal, the other half of the time she disguised herself and found some disgusting tavern to sleep in. She had no idea where she was anymore, she was just wandering aimlessly. She was currently sitting on the roof of one of said taverns. It reminded her painfully of her days as an assassin. She stared up at the stars, unblinking, the night wind was cold and stung her face but she was past caring. Up here, she took off the glamour, becoming Aelin again.

“Do you miss me, buzzard?” She asked the stars. “I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.” She shook her head and laughed angrily. “You became everything you didn’t want to, didn’t you? You bastard.” Her voice was getting louder with each word. “To whatever end? Right.” Angry tears streaked her face for what was definitely not the first time. “I’ve listened around enough that I learned my funeral is tomorrow.” She didn’t even know what she was doing anymore, besides pacing on a roof and shrieking at the sky. “Maybe I’ll stop in, I’ve always wanted to see my own funeral.” She jabbed an angry finger at a star she had deemed was Rowan’s stand-in. “I hope you make it worthy of me, you bastard. Gods, I hope you know me enough to make it as me as you can.” She blew a kiss at that star and something in her cracked, “I love you, Rowan Whitethorn. I shouldn’t, not anymore, but I do.”

She pulled her glamor back on and jumped down from the roof, landing on her feet with practiced ease. “Let’s see if I can make my own funeral, hmm?”

~~~~~~

It was as outrageous as Aelin would have wanted. Everyone was miserable, even those within the inner circle who knew what had really happened. Most everyone was here, except for all the royals within Erilea, and every other land Aelin had touched.

Music flourished from every corner, musicians from all over had come to play pieces for her, in honor of her. It was like some kind of twisted wedding, the way everyone turned when the royals entered. The leaders that Aelin had not known as personally entered first, stopping individually to give impersonal speeches about her. Then Galan entered. He knelt before the basically-shrine honoring her. “You were one of the greatest Queens this world has ever seen, cousin.” He cleared his throat, “You were so much more than all your titles give you credit for, and that’s saying a lot. You were so full of life and energy and,” A broken laugh. “Fire. You burned bright, Aelin. And now that you’re ash, we’re ash too.” He cleared his throat again and stayed kneeling next to the other leaders, murmuring words meant only for him and his cousin.

Manon entered next, she knew the truth but despite that, her eyes were rimmed an angry red. She stood next to Galan, “Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.” She went silent for a moment before sinking to her knees. Everyone gasped. Family knelt, but other than that no leader, especially not a witch, knelt. “You-” She broke off and bowed her head, curling her hands into fists at her side.

When it was clear Manon wasn’t going to finish, Dorian entered. He knelt beside Manon (cue another gasp) his mouth moved, but it was only for him and Aelin. The goodbye he hadn’t had the chance to say in that forest.

Nesryn and Sartaq strode in, Sartaq didn’t speak, but Nesryn did. Her voice carried, unwavering. “No King or Queen is perfect, but Aelin was pretty damn close. She and I were never the closest but,” She hesitated and Sartaq reached for her hand, “She believed in me. She never looked down on me because I was human, and wasn’t in any huge position of power, and that faith in me never changed even when I became,” She gestured at her and Sartaq, at her dress, “Aelin mattered in a way that not many people have ever mattered. She will be remembered, for her fire and power, for what she’s done, but also how she has a soft spot for dogs and chocolate,” A few wet laughs, “How she loves music and theater, how kind she is to everyone.” The crowd nodded their agreement, there wasn’t a soul that wasn’t crying. “You did it. You made your mark.” She bowed her head and it was clear she was done.

Rowan was last, Goldryn in his hands. He laid in with pain-staking gentleness at her shrine. He stepped back and opened his mouth as if about to speak. His fingers fiddled with the ring on one finger. The ring Aelin had given him that he hadn’t taken off. That he would never take off. “Damn you,” He said finally. “Damn you, Aelin.” He bowed his head to hide from the crowd and someone moved, Elide. She came up to him, murmured a few quiet words, and led him to kneel next to Sartaq. She waited a few moments before returning to her spot.

The music rose as everyone knelt, heads bowed, before their dead Queen. It was ghostly, the way they knelt in total silence, besides their tears. Aelin was going to haunt everyone, for a very, very long time.

If anyone had been looking, they would have seen a female figure in the trees, slipping away as quietly and quickly as she could, tears flowing freely at the love everyone held for her.

“Goodbye,” She whispered. Well, looks like she could make a graceful disappearance after all.

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shyvioletcat · 5 years ago

Note

“There’s still no way to replace you.” - angsty with fluffy ending perchance? your ship of choice

Look... I don’t even know if this counts as angst. But here you go. I also couldn’t help myself and it turned out super long. Sorry, not sorry everyone.

~~~

It had been a week since Aelin’s world had fallen apart. The first three days she hadn’t been able to leave the house without crying. The day after that she had managed to do some grocery shopping and had lasted until she grabbed those gods damned chips. With her face buried in her elbow Aelin groaned against the tears. She didn’t even like that flavour.

But he did.

That had been Rowan’s favourite and every week they’d buy a packet. Aelin couldn’t stand the smell so she’d banish him to the balcony and he’d take that packet out laughing, knowing nine times out ten Aelin would follow him out anyway.

Now it had been a full 24 hours since Aelin has cried. She hadn’t cried as she’d thrown Rowan’s things in boxes, hadn’t cried as she’d wash their sheets again to rid his scent from them, she didn’t cry when she took the photos down throughout the apartment. Even when those smiles and bright eyes had mocked her, Aelin had just unceremoniously dumped them in a box.

She had just taped up the last of Rowan’s boxes when there was a knock at the door. Leaving the tape on the kitchen counter Aelin went to open it.

As she swung it open Fenrys’ unusually timid face greeted her.

“Hey,” he said.

Aelin’s reply was quiet. “Hey.”

“You done?” Fenrys asked as he came through the door.

“Just did the last one,” Aelin indicated to the box by the kitchen counter.

Fenrys nodded and went to retrieve it. When he left the apartment Aelin brought the rest of the boxes into the living area and then sat on the couch, the boxes behind her so she didn’t have to look at them. Fenrys came in and out, taking the boxes to his car. Aelin counted each one, and it was when the last went out that she noticed her hands were shaking.

“Anything else?” Fenrys asked.

Aelin shook her head and stood, willing her hands to stop shaking as went to where Fenrys stood. He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket.

“Ace, he’s really sorry,” Fenrys muttered holding out the keys that had belonged to Rowan. Hot pink so he wouldn’t lose them.

“I don’t care.”

It was a lie. They both knew it, especially when a sob fell from Aelin’s lips followed by the tears from her eyes. Fenrys just pulled Aelin to his chest and held her.

~~~

Aelin laughed as she took the take-out bag from Luca, his joke was awful but he was trying.

“I think Emrys snuck in a few extra rolls for, but don’t tell Malakai,” Luca loudly whispered across the counter. Then he paused, the corner of his mouth quirking up nervously. “So. There’s an open air cinema next Friday, would you want to go with me?” Luca asked, a slight flush had creeping to his cheeks.

At his question Aelin’s heart faltered for a second. Luca wasn’t to first to ask her out in the 18 months that Rowan had been gone, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first she had said yes to. Not that she planned to say yes to him. Luca was a good kid, but that was the problem, to Aelin he was just a kid. Even though he couldn’t be more than a year or so younger than her.

Maybe it was this place, where she and Rowan had got dinner every Friday night and then took it home to watch a movie while they ate. Aelin had stopped that ritual but still frequented Emrys’ restaurant.

“Luca, thanks but...” Aelin started, then the door behind her opened.

Luca looked up to the next customer and quickly adverted his eyes, first from whomever it was and then from Aelin.

“No, don’t worry. Forget I asked,” he said then Luca dashed to the back.

Aelin’s brow furrowed at Luca’s strange behaviour. Especially that he would run off before taking the new customers order. When she turned around she saw why.

Rowan Whitethorn stood behind her, his silver hair soaked with rain. Aelin didn’t know what to do, and it seemed neither did Rowan.

“Hi,” he said, breaking the silence.

Aelin didn’t answer. She just shook her head, walked past him, grabbed her umbrella from the bucket by the door, and left.

She didn’t stop as she heard Rowan call after her. She ignored him, trudging through the rain to her apartment that was only a block away.

“Aelin, hey,” Rowan had run in front of her, now blocking the path home.

“What?” Aelin barked at him.

“I just,” Rowan looked miserable as a wet puppy. “I don’t know. I just wanted to say hello I guess.”

“You’ve said it, now I’m going home,” Aelin bit out as she went to move past Rowan. But he blocked her once again.

“I - can’t we just,” Rowan stammered. “Can I just talk to you for a moment.”

“Talk?” Aelin said incredulously. “Now you want to talk? You certainly didn’t want to talk when you went for that job I begged you not to go for. Or when you got it and I found out from Elide that you were taking it. Elide, Rowan. Elide. That was like third hand information.”

Rowan looked ashamed. Aelin relished in it.

“I’m going home,” she said and Rowan let her by and made no move to stop her again. Aelin made it a few metres before she turned back. Rowan hadn’t moved. He just let the rain beat down on him. Aelin looked to the skies and let out a heavy sigh before she walked back to him.

“Fine. But if I ask you to go, you go. And this,” Aelin pointed to her dinner, “this is mine.”

Relief flooded over Rowan’s feature and he nodded. Aelin offered him the umbrella and he held it over the both of them.

They didn’t speak again until they were in the elevator.

“Why are you wandering about in the rain with no protection?” Aelin asked.

“My truck broke down. I saw I wasn’t too far from Emrys’ so I thought I’d grab something to eat while I wait for Fenrys,” Rowan explained.

The elevator doors opened.

“What are you doing in town?” Aelin asked as they came to her door. She fumbled around in her bag for her keys.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” Rowan said. “I’m back.”

Aelin dropped her keys, the hot pinks keys hit the floor with a jingling thump. Aelin was too shocked to move so Rowan bent down to get them.

“Not too easy to lose are they?” Rowan said, indicating to the keys. He was no doubt trying to lighten the situation, Aelin ignored him. She just took the keys back and opened the door.

Once inside she dropped the food on the kitchen counter then went to the linen closet for a towel.

“Wait here,” she said then disappeared into her room. She cane back out with a pair of sweat pants and a tshirt in her arms which she practically threw at Rowan.

Rowan caught them and eyed them skeptically.

“Oh please, they’re Aedion’s,” Aelin said from the kitchen as she pulled out a fork.

Rowan didn’t say anything else as he went to the bathroom. The door clicking shut was the only sound in the whole apartment.

Aelin let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. Rowan was back. What did that mean? Was it only for a visit? The contract had been for 5 years, and it obviously hadn’t been that long. So obviously for a visit.

Aelin started on her pasta when Rowan came out of the bathroom, still drying his hair. The shirt he wore was slightly too small and rose up indecently high with his arms over his head like that. Aelin shifted her attention back to her pasta, spearing a piece of bacon onto her fork.

Rowan came to stand in front of her, the counter between them. “Are you sure these are Aedion’s? They seem a little small.”

“Afraid I’ve replaced you?” Aelin asked before taking another mouthful.

Rowan once again looked crestfallen. “Aelin. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

Aelin didn’t look up.

“When I said I’m back, I mean I’m back for good. I quit. Maeve wanted to kill me, but I quit. I gave up everything,” Rowan reached across and gently lifted Aelin’s chin so he could look into her eyes. “In Doranelle I couldn’t think of anything but you. You were right about Maeve. She only offered me the job so I would have to prove my loyalty, to her or you. I chose wrong. I hated myself for what I had done to you, it was stupid and I still hate myself. I gave up everything to come back to you. But you say the word and I’ll leave.”

Aelin pushed Rowan’s hand away.

“You really hurt me.”

“I know I did, Fireheart. I know.” Rowan took a step towards her and reached out as if he would touch her. But then he thought better if it. “I’ll go. I’m staying with Fenrys if you want to talk. Only if you want.”

Rowan turned and walked towards the door out of the apartment. Aelin watched him, watched as he reached for the door handle.

“There’s still no way to replace you.” Aelin had said it so quietly she was surprised Rowan had heard it, but he had frozen by the door. “And the truth is, I don’t want to.”

Rowan turned now, and watched as Aelin slowly walked towards him. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Aelin was close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.

She reached up to touch his cheek. Rowan lent into it, eyes closed.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” Aelin whispered.

Then she was kissing him. She hadn’t been able to help herself. It took a moment for Rowan to realise, but when he did his lips were soft a compliant, allowing Aelin to take everything she needed from this kiss.

“I know this doesn’t fix anything,” Rowan whispered as he rested his forehead against Aelin’s. “Not by a long shot.”

Aelin nodded. “But it’s a start.”

~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash @galyxsy @literary-licorice @highqueenofelfhame @3am-reading @highladyofthesith @nalgenewhore @soup-that-is-too-hawt

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #do i even know how to write angst?#throne of glass fanfiction

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the-regal-warrior · 5 years ago

Text

Cadre Weaponry: Part Five

Thank you for all the love you’ve shown this story - here’s the next part! We’re almost to the end - there’s just one more part after this.

To find the other parts to this story and all my other writing, check out my masterlist! There’s a link to it in my bio.

Summary: Welcome to Cadre Weaponry - the shop for all your weapons needs, both antique and modern! Join the boys of the Cadre as they become friends and tackle this thing we call life. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll even find love along the way.

Warnings: Language and smut, like always.

THREE YEARS AND FOUR DAYS AGO

Lorcan didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous in his entire life. Even when they were first starting the store and everything was up in the air - even then he hadn’t been this nervous.

He was meeting Elide for a picnic in the park, and he just needed this day to be absolutely perfect. He’d never felt this way about a girl before, and he wasn’t about to let that feeling go to waste.

Running his hand through his hair - and then immediately realizing it was a bad idea because he’d pulled it back into a bun to keep it out of his face - he plopped down on the blanket he’d just spread out. He had just pulled the tie out his hair and was in the process of tying it back up when he heard someone calling his name from behind him.

Turning, he saw Elide walking up behind him in a short floral dress and combat boots. “Elide, hey!” he called, standing to pull her into a hug as he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Lorcan, you just saw me last night,” she chuckled, the laughter making her eyes light up. “But I’m pretty excited to see you, too.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before sitting down on the blanket and pulling Lorcan down by the hand.

He chuckled as she practically pulled him on top of her, just catching himself before he fell completely on top of her. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he pulled the basket over and handed it to her, watching her with a small smile as she began unpacking all of it.

“This all looks really amazing, Lor,” she said. “Did you - did you make all of this yourself?”

He felt the blush crawling up his face at her praise. “Uh, yeah, I did,” he muttered, trying to keep himself from flushing any further. “But if you ever tell anyone I’ll just deny it.”

Elide practically doubled over with laughter at that, clutching her stomach as the giggles just poured out of her. “Fair enough. Shall we eat?”

“Gods, yes. I’m starving.”

~*^*~

They’d finished eating at least an hour ago, all the food completely devoured, but they were still sitting on the blanket, just enjoying the fresh air and being in each other’s company.

Lorcan felt himself falling harder for her with every word she said, his attention never wavering from her, not even for a second. He was so enthralled with they way her eyes lit up when she got excited and how she talked with her hands all the time that he didn’t notice anything going on around them.

Elide was in the middle of a story about her late-night adventures with Aelin, who was apparently her roommate in college, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he came face-to-face with Essar, the closest thing he had to an ex-girlfriend.

“Lorcan,” she smiled, her hands clasped in front of her. “I thought that was you.”

“Essar,” he replied, trying to keep any discomfort off his face. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m good, really good.” She seemed to notice Elide then, because an apologetic look crossed her face. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt! It’s just been so long since we talked, and I just wanted to say hello.”

“No, Essar, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“So,” she continued, her eyes flicking between him and Elide. “Is this your new girlfriend?”

“Uh, no,” he muttered, feeling awkwardness creeping through his veins. “She’s just a friend.”

Essar nodded at that, though she didn’t look like she believed him. “Oh, okay. Well, I better get going. It was good to see you though.”

“You too.” He waved as she walked off, already dreading the conversation he knew he was going to have with Elide.

Turning enough to see Elide, he grimaced at the look on her face. “Your new girlfriend?” she muttered, fixing him with a harsh glare.

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that Essar’s my ex.”

“You guess?”

“Elide, I’m not really the kind of guy who dates. Essar and I had a fling for a while, but we were never serious. I just wasn’t that type of guy.”

“So I’m just some casual fling to you?” She was practically yelling at this point, and Lorcan hated the look of disappointment on her face.

“No!” He reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb over her palm. “Look, I never used to be the guy who wanted a girlfriend - but that’s because I’ve never met anyone like you.”

A small smile lit up her features. “That sounds like a line.”

“I promise you it’s not.” He paused for a moment, but ultimately decided that this was the best time for it. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this, but I want to prove how serious I am about you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but he forged on before she could interrupt. “Elide Lochan, will you be my girlfriend?”

Elide gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “Really? You want me to be your girlfriend?”

He barely had time to nod before Elide was throwing herself at him, her arms sliding around his neck as she slid sideways into his lap. “I would love to be your girlfriend!”

Lorcan pulled her against his chest, his arms sliding around her waist as he held her tighter. “You have no idea how happy that makes me, Lochan.”

“So why don’t you show me, Salvaterre?”

He chuckled at her bold attitude, but he leaned down to press his lips to hers all the same.

As her lips moved against his, Lorcan realized he’d never been happier in his entire life.

TWO YEARS, ELEVEN MONTHS, AND TWENTY-FOUR DAYS AGO

Rowan felt tears building up in eyes as Aelin pulled him onto the floor for their first dance as husband and wife. The smile on her face was absolutely breathtaking, and he could see tears forming in her eyes as well.

“You look absolutely radiant, Fireheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

“Buzzard,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she tried to hold her tears back. “I love you so much, baby.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails lightly scraping against his scalp as she swayed with him. “And now I get to call you my husband for the rest of my life.”

“My wonderful, amazing wife,” he crooned into her ear, fingers tracing little swirls over her waist. “I love you with my entire heart - to whatever end, love.”

Aelin rested her head against his chest as she replied, “to whatever end, baby.”

Rowan only held her tighter as their friends and family joined them on the dancefloor. He felt a few tears spill down his cheeks as he took in everyone who was there for them on the most important day of their lives. He was overwhelmed at how much love was in that one room, and he realized just how lucky he’d been when he joined that group of boys for a random project back in college.

Without that project, he wouldn’t have the family he did, and he might never have met Aelin. He owed them all so much, and he’d said as much in the toast he’d made at the rehearsal dinner. But now, after their wedding, when everyone was all gathered around them and sharing in their joy, it was all hitting him.

Rowan felt more tears sliding down his cheeks as the emotions flooded him, and he buried his face in Aelin’s hair to keep anyone else from seeing it.

No doubt feeling the wetness of his tears against her head, Aelin pulled back so she could see his face. When she saw the smile on his face despite the tears, she gave him a watery chuckle as she cupped his face in her hands and swiped under his eyes with her thumbs even as her own tears spilled over.

“Everything okay, my love?” she questioned, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

Kissing her back, he smiled against her mouth. “Everything is absolutely perfect.”

TWO YEARS, NINE MONTHS, AND NINETEEN DAYS AGO

This was probably the greatest thing he’d ever seen - Connall was absolutely sure of it. The scene unfolding on the screen in front of him had quite literally everyone in the room in complete awe - even those who’d witnessed it before.

The boys had decided to rent out the laser tag place for the night, inviting their girls and all their friends out for the night. All six of the guys were there, along with their girls - who had brought friends. That meant that the entirety of the Thirteen was there, along with a significant number of others. They’d all played several rounds already, with someone new claiming the victory with each round.

However, Asterin had suggested that the Thirteen play the next round alone, and the rest of them had jumped on the suggestion. They’d quickly split off into pairs and trios, all forging “alliances” as they headed for the prep room.

Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered around the screen that displayed the action going on inside the maze, and Connall was fairly certain his jaw wasn’t the only one on the floor. The thirteen women on the screen took to laser tag with an almost military precision. It was all out war inside that room - complete with guerilla attacks and some pretty athletic maneuvers.

“Wait,” Vaughan questioned from his left. “I thought Sorrel and Lin had teamed up for this - why’d Lin just shoot her?”

Elide chuckled from her perch on Lorcan’s lap. “The alliances they make only last the first five minutes of the game. In fact, the only two of them who will still be working together by the end of this are Thea and Kaya. Everyone else will have turned on one another.”

Fenrys whooped as he watched Asterin advance on Edda and Briar with a scary level of precision. Gavriel and Vaughan were playfully bickering as their girls (not that Vaughan would confirm that he and Sorrel were dating) circled around one another. Connall, however, hardly noticed any of this, because he couldn’t take his eyes from Vesta.

She was a warrior in that room, darting around the maze without being seen, taking down opponents with hardly any effort.

“Are they always this intense?” he found himself asking, even as his eyes kept tracking Vesta across the screen.

“Absolutely,” Elide quipped, cheering as Manon managed to avoid Faline. “If you think this is bad, just wait until someone wins.”

Connall raised an eyebrow at her, but she just motioned for the screen, and he turned back just as the two minute bell sounded inside the maze. None of the Thirteen even seemed to notice the buzzer, their focus solely on the competition raging between them.

In what felt like no time at all, the laser guns turned off and the lights flashed on in the room, signaling that the round was over. They all froze on the screen as they waited for the announcement of who had won.

Everyone watching them could see the scores added up on the digital scoreboard, but the announcement reached all of them at the same time.

Vesta.

Connall couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face as he watched her celebrate her victory. She lifted her hands above her head and roared her victory toward the skies, a huge smile lighting her face as the others clapped her on the back.

Eventually they worked their way out of the maze, Vesta gloating about her victory while the others grumbled good-naturedly. She cut herself off in the middle of her bragging to run for Connall, jumping into his arms and letting him spin her around.

“That was truly something to behold,” he told her, loving the happiness shining in her eyes. He set her on her feet in front of him, his arms still wrapped around her waist.

“Thanks, love,” she replied, her own hands resting on his biceps.

“We’ve been doing whatever this is for a year now,” Connall started, squeezing her waist lightly, “and I’m in awe of you in everything you do.”

He paused, and Vesta gave him a slightly confused look, not quite sure where he was going with his words.

“Which is why there’s something I need to ask you. Vesta, will you be my girl - officially?”

Leaning into him, Vesta pressed her lips very lightly against his jaw. “There’s nothing I would like more, Con,” she whispered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Connall gave her a few seconds to giggle at his reaction before he’d claimed her lips with his own, kissing her like he wouldn’t get enough of her.

Even with their friends yelling at them to get a room in the background, Connall decided that this was one of the best days he’d ever had.

TWO YEARS, THREE MONTHS, AND THIRTEEN DAYS AGO

“Gav, you can see that mine’s closer from here,” Lin laughed from behind him as he walked toward the target. Everyone was gathered behind the shop, watching as he and Lin had a friendly archery competition. He knew without picking up a bow who would win, but he’d been challenged and he wouldn’t back down.

Of course, it was all a front for the question he was about to ask, but she didn’t need to know that yet.

Gavriel shook his head as he kept walking. “I don’t know, I think I’d better check.”

“It’s in the middle of the target!” she cried, and Gavriel could hear their friends laughing as he waved her off and stopped in front of the target.

Making a show of pretending to study the two arrows in the target, Gavriel slipped a ring and a note on a string out of his pocket. His slipped the string around the shaft of her arrow, tying it fast as he acted like he was measuring the distance between his arrow and the bullseye - which was exactly where Lin’s arrow was.

Satisfied that the ring was secure, Gavriel turned to face everyone and shrugged his shoulders dramatically. “Lin was right,” he said, walking back to her. “Hers was closer - she wins.”

Lin just laughed, although she did lean in and wrap her arms around his waist when he started to pout. “I told you so.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah you did.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

She grinned up at him, and he smirked as he pulled away. “Alright, babe, go get the arrows from the target.”

Lin smacked him on the chest as she gave him a bewildered stare. “You were just over there!”

Gavriel chuckled at the indignation burning in her eyes. “I know, love,” he whispered, “but just do it for me?”

She huffed but did as he asked, though she was glaring as she turned away.

Watching her walk toward the ring, Gavriel couldn’t help the nerves that rose in his throat. Lin had been hinting for a while now that she wanted to get married, but a part of him still worried she would say no. It was the same part that constantly worried he wasn’t good enough for her - that he would never be good enough for her.

He cleared those doubts from his head and sank to one knee as she reached for her arrow. He tried to keep his expression calm as her hand stopped in midair when she saw the ring.

Lin’s jaw went slack as she read the note - “I love you with all my heart” written in Gavriel’s tiny script - before she took the ring in her hand as she carefully untied the string. When she turned to face him, there were tears in her eyes.

“Gav?” she questioned, her eyes fixed on the ring sitting in her palm. “Baby?”

He smiled at her, though his hands were shaking when he started talking. “Linnea, you are the love of my life and everything I could have ever wanted. For so long I thought you would realize you wanted someone better, and when I realized you were here to stay, I wanted nothing more than to be with you forever. My love, my life, will you do be the greatest honor and marry me?”

Lin was crying by the time he finished, but he barely had time to absorb that fact before she was sprinting across the space between them and tackling him to the ground. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she braced her hands on his chest, tears slipping down her cheeks and soaking into his shirt. “Yes,” she cried. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Gavriel laughed as he reached up to dry her tears, but she caught his hand and pressed the ring into his palm, clearly asking him to slip it on her finger - which he did with the biggest smile on his face.

“I love you so damn much, baby,” he whispered, pulling her down to kiss him.

Their kiss only lasted a couple of seconds before Sorrel, Vesta, and Asterin were pulling her into their arms, Elide and Aelin right behind them, but what she whispered as they grabbed her made the moment even more perfect, even as Vaughan and Rowan practically threw themselves on him, Fenrys, Connall, and Lorcan not far behind.

“You’re everything I could ever want and more, my love - there is absolutely no one better. I love you completely, Gav.”

ONE YEAR, ELEVEN MONTHS, AND FOUR DAYS AGO

Fenrys locked the front door, whistling to himself as he headed for his office and Asterin, who had shown up five minutes before closing with a pizza and a six-pack for dinner. He had to take inventory after he closed up - they all took turns, so once a month one of them would stay late and take inventory of the entire store - and it was going to be a late night. Usually he didn’t look forward to the task, but since Asterin had showed up, he was dreading it a little less.

Still whistling a merry tune, he opened his office door stopped short, the happy sound dying mid-note as his jaw fell toward the floor.

Asterin had seated herself in his desk chair, her t-shirt and bra on the floor by his feet. Her arms were crossed behind her head, pushing her breasts forward and perfectly displaying the piercings in both of her nipples.

Fenrys was so in love with this woman.

“I guess we’re having dessert before dinner, then.” He stalked toward her, his eyes never leaving her nipples and those beautiful piercings.

He could practically hear her smirk in her voice. “And probably after dinner, too. Maybe even when we get home, if you’re lucky.”

Fen just grinned at her before dropping into his favorite position - one his knees for her. He pulled his shirt over his head and leaned up to kiss her, his tongue slipping into her mouth and tangling with hers as he worked her jeans and underwear down her legs. She kicked them off, her flip-flops getting tangled in the fabric and getting lost in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Asterin groaned against his lips, her fingers tangling in his long hair and pulling. Hard.

Releasing a groan at the sensation, Fenrys slipped his lips from hers and kissed his way down to her jaw. He nipped at her chin once, twice, three times before continuing down her throat, licking a stripe over her pulse.

She whined at the sensation before mewling as his sucked at the hollow of her throat. Her noises only encouraged him to suck harder, his tongue sliding out to soothe the mark he’d left on her skin.

He continued to make his way down her body, sucking and nipping at her skin until he reached the valley of her breasts. Working his tongue over her skin, he moved back and forth between the heavy underside of each breast, sucking large marks on the sensitive skin he’d discovered.

Once she was groaning and moving her hips frantically in the chair, he pulled back to stare into her eyes. The little gold flecks in the black of her irises practically glowed with the heat of her lust, and her eyelids fluttered with every breath.

He leaned in to press one kiss to each of the tattoos inked over her ribs - lengthy quotes written in the language of The Wastes, where her family came from, and one single tattoo in English that said “from now until the darkness claims us” - before he finally decided she’d suffered enough and leaned in to capture one of her nipples between his lips.

Fenrys had learned long ago how to tease her nipples and piercings to get the reactions he wanted, and he put his skills to good use. Sucking her nipple between his lips, he scraped gently against the stiff peak with his teeth before flicking the balls of her piercing with his tongue - first one side of the piercing, then the other. He continued those motions until Asterin was practically whimpering at the gentle suction of his lips, and then he switched to the other nipple.

He continued his ministrations, switching between her breasts until he was so hard in his jeans that he physically couldn’t stand wearing them anymore.

Releasing her nipple with an audible pop, he reached for the button on his pants, groaning when he saw what Asterin had been doing with the hand that had fallen from his hair soon after he’d latched on to her nipple.

She had three fingers deep inside of herself, her thumb pressed against her clit as she thrust in and out slowly.

“Fuck, Rin,” he groaned, working his jeans down his legs as he watched her run the fingers of her other hand over her folds. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

She groaned, her fingers working faster as he kicked off his jeans, his cock springing free from the fabric. “Probably about as sexy as you with your dick all hard and all that ink on display.” She’d never kept it a secret how much she loved his sleeves, especially when they were having sex.

Smirking up at her, Fenrys lowered himself back to his knees and pulled both her hands away from her dripping folds. He was just leaning in to attach his mouth to her center when one of her hands wrapped around his throat, her grip tight enough to make breathing a little difficult.

He tried to fight against her grip, but she only tightened her hand and raised his head up to hers. “No more teasing,” she whispered, choking him as he whined. The lack of control, the struggle to breath - all of it only made him harder.

Fenrys nodded once, a slight movement of his head that had her releasing him and pushing him to sit on the floor with his back against his desk. Smirking down at him, Asterin made a show of stretching as she stood, arching her back and swinging her hips once before she dropped into his lap, sheathing his cock inside of her.

They both groaned at the sensation, Fenrys practically shaking with how perfect her silken walls felt against his cock. She was grinding against him as she rode him, breasts brushing against his chest every time she moved.

It didn’t take long for Fenrys to start fucking up into her, Asterin’s groans turning into high-pitched whimpers as his cock brushed against that one perfect spot inside her. He just smirked as he fucked into her harder, listening for when her moans started to sound a little breathless.

He finally heard the hitch in her breathing, and unwrapped one hand from her waist to flick his thumb over her clit in time with his thrusts. She was practically screaming above him, and he raised his eyes from where he was splitting her apart until his gaze met her own, which was desperate and full of need.

“Fen,” she whined, practically throwing her hips against his as her nails dug into his shoulders hard enough that he knew he’d have marks for a while. “Fen, babe, please.”

“Please what, love?” he whispered in response, reaching down to smack her ass.

Asterin shuddered in his lap, her walls spasming as she chased an orgasm she couldn’t quite reach. “I need to come, baby. Gods, please, I need to come.”

“You’re so needy, baby,” he quipped, pinching her clit a little more aggressively. “But it’s okay. I know what you need - I’ll give you what you need, my love.”

Locking his eyes with hers, he slid his other hand up her body, cupping her breast briefly before wrapping his hand around her throat and squeezing. Asterin gasped at the sensation, her eyes never leaving his even as her eyelids starting fluttering again.

“Harder, baby, pleasepleaseplease,” she moaned, the words slightly breathless. “I’m so close, please, I’m right there, pleaseplease.”

Fenrys tightened his hand just enough that she started to gasp for air, thrusting hard against that spot and flicking her clit at the same time.

Asterin screamed as she came, her eyes practically rolling back in her head as her walls clenched and spasmed around his cock. Her juices gushed around him, falling against his thighs and making her legs slip against his.

It was that final slip of her body against his that drove him a little deeper, her scream breaking off into a gasp as Fen’s orgasm exploded through him, his release sliding out to pool with hers on his thighs.

After a couple minutes, once Asterin had come down from her orgasm and she wasn’t as sensitive, Fenrys finally pulled himself from her, releasing her throat and wrapping both arms around her shoulders. He practically crushed her against him, his heart swelling as his love for the woman cradled against his chest hit him.

“Gods, Rin, I love you so much.”

“Love you, too,” she murmured, utterly worn out from how thoroughly he’d fucked her. “Remember how I said you’d get dessert after dinner and when we got home?”

“Yeah, baby,” he chuckled. “I remember.”

“Well, I think you might have to wait until we get home.” She giggled into his shoulder, her own arms wrapping around his waist.

Fenrys laughed with her, the sound peaceful in the quiet room. “That’s just fine, babe. I’m just glad to have you here with me.”

She hummed into his skin, and his body filled with even more love for her. As long as he was with her, he was content.

ONE YEAR, SEVEN MONTHS, AND SEVEN DAYS AGO

His heart was beating so hard in his chest he thought it was going to burst through his ribs. Lorcan actually thought this feeling, the anxiety building inside his bones might kill him.

Elide Lochan really was going to be the death of him.

“Lor,” she grumbled for what was probably the tenth time, “where are we going?” They were walking down the street, hand-in-hand, and Lorcan had been keeping their destination a secret since they’d left the shop several minutes ago.

He stopped walking, tugging on her hand as she kept walking and pulling her chest against his chest, his other arm falling around her waist. “Fine,” he sighed, an edge of exasperation in his tone even as he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “Fine, you insufferable woman, I’ll tell you. If you must know, we’re going to the library.”

Elide’s nose scrunched as she pondered their destination. “That’s your big secret? We’re going to the library?”

“Uh huh,” Lorcan agreed, pressing his lips to her forehead before spinning her around and continuing on their way to the library, even as the confused expression stayed on her beautiful features.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at their destination, Lorcan wrapping his arm around Elide’s shoulders as he kept her from walking through the front door.

“I thought this was where we were going?” she questioned, her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “Wasn’t this your big surprise?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, chuckling at the adorably confused expression she was still wearing. “Really? You really believed the library was my grand surprise?” He shook his head at her, acting like he was disappointed. “No, my darling, the library wasn’t my surprise - it’s what we’ll be doing while we’re here that’s the surprise.”

Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a folded blue index card and handed it to her. “Here’s your surprise.”

Elide slipped her arm from around his waist as she took the paper from him. Unfolding it, the confusion cleared from her eyes as she read what he’d written on it. ��It’s a scavenger hunt!” she squealed, excitement and happiness dancing across her face.

“I hope you like it, baby,” he whispered, a smile breaking over his face as he watched her practically shake with happiness. “Well, go on. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again somewhere on your little adventure.”

She leaned up to press a swift kiss to his lips, still beaming as she read the note once more and made for the entrance to the library - Lorcan knew she was heading for the front desk, which was where her next clue was hidden.

Waiting until he was sure she’d gone where the second clue had directed her - a complete copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s works, as it was a reference to the massive raven he’d drawn for her that was tattooed across her entire upper back and neck - Lorcan walked into the library. He nodded his thanks to the head librarian, since she’d helped him plan this entire activity.

He’d purposely sent Elide in the opposite direction of where he needed to station himself for everything to work out perfectly as part of that second clue. Satisfied that she was no longer in the lobby, he made for the murder-mystery section in the back of the second-floor stacks.

Lorcan pushed open the door that led to the section, a nervous smile breaking across his face as he saw all of their friends waiting for him. “Thanks for being here, you guys,” he said, though the nerves made his voice shake.

“Of course, man,” Rowan replied, the other guys nodding in agreement and offering smiles of encouragement and support.

“Yeah,” Fenrys, chimed in, “you know we’d do anything for you.”

Connall nodded along with his twins words, adding “we’re all family, Lorcan. You know that.”

“I do,” Lorcan confirmed, his eyes prickling as Gavriel and Vaughan voiced their sentiments as well. The sensation only grew when the five women standing in the room, the five women who’d made his family double in size, offered up their own opinions.

Knowing he was short on time, Lorcan blinked once to keep his emotions at bay before preparing himself to ask the most important question of his life.

~*^*~

In what felt like no time at all, though in reality was probably about fifteen minutes, Lorcan heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door they were all waiting behind. Dropping to one knee, he opened the ring box in his hand as the door swung open.

Elide was reading to herself as she walked through the door, not really paying attention to her surroundings. “‘Come to our favorite section and answer the question you’ll be faced with.’ Rutting gods, Lor, what does that even me-” she griped, but cut off suddenly when she looked up and saw him kneeling before her. “Lor?” Tears sprang into her eyes as they dropped to the ring box in his hand. “Is this what I think it is?”

Lorcan smiled at her, a genuine smile that he only seemed to wear when he was around her. He could feel the tears building behind his eyes again, though he did his best to push through them. “Elide Lochan, I loved you since the moment I saw you throwing at ax at the target a little over two and a half years ago. I love everything about you, and I fall more in love with you every single day - every single minute. You are the one true owner of my ancient and wicked heart, and I gave it to you a long time ago. You make me want to be a better man, and I want to spend every day of the rest of our lives showing you how much you mean to me. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, the tears falling from her eyes in full force. “Oh my gods, yes!” Elide reached for him, and he slid the ring on her finger before she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his.

Lorcan felt his own tears streaming over his cheeks as he kissed her back, a groan slipping free as her tongue slid into his mouth. Sliding his hands down to her thighs, he lifted her into his arms, sighing as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Before they could get too carried away, their friends were pressing in around them, Aelin muttering veiled threats at him as Elide laughed. She slipped out of his arms with an “I love you so much, Lor” and a kiss to his jaw, her happy smile causing his to grow.

Lorcan was happier than he ever thought he’d be as their family celebrated with them - and it was all because of Elide Lochan.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @froggy-waddles @mis-lil-red @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @photofeesh @belamoonbeam @velarian-trash

As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, please let me know!

Thank you all so much for reading - part six (which is the final part!) comes out tomorrow!

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midnightprelude · 5 years ago

Text

Her Favor

A ficlet written for my beloved @lethendralis-paints based on her stunning angsty Fenris portrait. It’s set some time before the first chapter in the Ariverse and a bit of a backstory into how the Hawke and Lavellan families initially met. Artwork belongs to Leth, words to me, and Fenris to Eris and Ariadna.

It seemed as though the sun would never rise again, but inexorably the night marched forward, light growing and dew collecting on leaves. A messenger had come to visit them in the darkness. Nobody would send them a courier, not here, not unless there was some dire need.

And that there was. Hawke isn’t just troubled with the problems of men any longer, but with the sundering of the heavens themselves.

Fenris shouldn’t have been surprised at Varric’s letter. He had seen the breach. It was hard to miss, after all. They had been lucky to avoid demons thus far, but the rumors had approached them as secluded in the Hinterlands as they were.

And of course Varric would find himself in the middle of the madness. He has a nose for it after all. Though I had made him promise to not involve Hawke. She has suffered enough as it is.

He tried to suppress his anger towards the dwarf. It appeared as though the world truly was ending, if that swirling green hole was any indication.

They had heard a knock and Eris Hawke had rolled over.

“Your turn,” she had mumbled, almost incomprehensibly.

Neither of them had been sleeping much, not with their new baby. Eris, in particular, was almost delirious most of the time from lack of rest.

Ariadna. Our miracle. She’s almost enough to make me believe in a higher power, if I didn’t know what it took to get her. Sebastian would be proud.

Amazingly, the noise at the door had not woken the babe. He pulled a light robe around his shoulders, tying it at the waist, and padded silently through the hallways. The floorboards were cool. It was somewhere near midnight, by his calculations.

He opened the door, staring at the messenger, who stared back at him in return. A soft glow from his lyrium markings cast the stranger in shadows, his features deepening.

“Letter for Mistress Hawke, ser,” he said, softly. “From Master Tethras.”

The man reached into his knapsack and pulled out a sheet of folded parchment, stamped with Varric’s iconography: a crossbow loaded with a quill.

He nodded to the man, searching the table by the door for a few coins to offer for his trouble. He offered him tea, but the man frowned. “It’d be best if I head back to Skyhold. They’ve no shortage of work for me to do, what with the rebuilding and all.”

Fenris closed the door, frowning, letter in hand. He knew that the words were for Hawke’s eyes, but he could scarcely help himself. Hawke was… so tired. And if Varric needed something…

He broke the wax seal, turning the letter over.

Eris,

I’ve delayed this letter as long as possible, but we’re growing desperate. We need allies. If you haven’t noticed, there’s a massive hole in the sky spitting out demons. I’ve joined a group that’s trying to stop it (and don’t go rolling your eyes at me, it was Seeker Pentaghast’s fault).

The Wardens have disappeared. The Orlesians are ignoring us. The Chantry fears what we represent. We’ve sided with the mages, angering the Templars and the common people both.

We need a miracle, Hawke, now more than ever. And I remember you having a penchant for those.

Skyhold, they call it. A castle in the clouds. Should you wish to join us here, I will send a caravan for you. I await your response.

We cannot allow your daughter to grow up in a world that’s falling apart.

Be safe, my old friend.

-V

He sat the letter on the table, his heart rate quickening. He knew that this would happen eventually. They would seek her out and draw her back into the madness.

And she would go, willingly.

Unthinking, he grabbed his sword from the mantle, strapping it to his back. He threw the front door open, stepping out into the night air.

His walk was almost meditative. The only thoughts that crossed his mind were on how difficult it would be to say goodbye to her. He wore only his breeches and a thin ribbon at his wrist, blowing in the wind, his robe discarded on the floor of the kitchen. There was a bite to the air, but it was not entirely unpleasant. It suited his mood: sharp and bitter.

Eventually he clambered atop a great hill. For a time he sat alone, staring at that breach in the sky.

We are all so small, all of us. What can mere mortals do against reality itself being torn?

After a time, he stood, unclasping his blade and holding it before him. He fell into a trance, running through exercise after exercise, until sweat beaded on his forehead and ran in rivulets down his back.

The hours passed in silence. He felt no desire to return, choosing solitude over seeing her eyes, filled with terror and need, both.

She would go to them. And I will be left behind, where I cannot protect her.

He remembered her body, less than a year ago, when she was nearly rent in two by the child she carried. The mess of scars on her stomach from previous duels had been pulled against her growing belly. He had kissed it, nightly, speaking softly to their child in Tevene, words that he did not remember being spoken to him.

I will give this one the world and all it’s tiny pleasures.

Eris would laugh and say that he was smitten sight-unseen and would wonder what he would do if their child was unfathomably hideous.

And in turn, he would laugh, assuring her that there was no possibility that a child born to them would be anything less than immaculate.

She would agree with him wholeheartedly.

He remembered what their mutual desire to start a family had done to her afterwards. Her injuries made the birth particularly challenging. Varric had resorted to summoning Anders to try and save her. There was so much blood.

He blanched thinking about it, swinging his blade all the harder.

Dusk was giving way to dawn and he still had no answers.

How can I tell her goodbye? Words… There are no words for this.

He studied her favor, running the ribbon through his fingers, which he still wore through the passing of years.

A voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Fenris!” She panted audibly. “There you are! I’ve spent the last hour looking all over for you! You never came back to bed last night.”

Eris Hawke clutched a swaddled Ariadna to her chest, the letter in her other hand.

“I needed some air.”

“Air? You were gone all night! And I found this!” She looked at him sternly. “Does this have something to do with your sudden disappearance?”

He frowned, nodding. “I did not want to tell you. I knew you would want to leave.”

She stared at him. “Of course. Varric wrote to us after all. But we need to make preparations. There’s so much we’ll need to bring…” She looked past him considering. “Do you think they’ll have a bassinet in this Skyhold place?”

“I’m sorry… What?” he said, his eyes widening. “A bassinet? You don’t mean to take Ariadna with you...do you?”

To lose them both…

“If my arms were free, I would have my hands on my hips, fixing you a particularly stern glare. Of course, we’re bringing Ariadna. What, would you have me leave her here in our home by herself?”

“What? I thought…”

She laughed. “You thought that I would entrust the raising of our child to you? You’d spoil her rotten before I’d even made it out of the door. No, Fen. We are a family. We go together, to the end of the world, if we must.”

He sighed, feeling as though a weight had slid from his shoulders. He moved to embrace her, tucking his head against her shoulder.

“Hey, you’re all sweaty! You’re going to muss my new robes.”

He laughed. “And I know that you do not have a care for your clothing, given the number of times you’ve set them on fire.”

“You’re right.” She kissed his forehead. “But we should return. Packing and all that.”

He looked at her, strong and beautiful and fierce in the morning light. “I love you.”

Her smile widened. “And I you, always.”

#midnight writes #lethendralis paints #we both sob #draw this in your style meme #except I can't draw #dragon age fanfiction #fenris #eris hawke #ariadna hawke

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cornfedcryptid-archive · 5 years ago

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Three OTP Questions: Ita and Cullen

@serial-chillr tagged me idk how many days ago(as you can see, me getting to tags days later is a common theme with me...there’s no fixing it at this point. I am stuck in my ways lol) and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to write about my newest diabeetus fluff pair Ita Tethras and Cullen.

I really had to amp up the fluff after reading @elveny‘s work, so I could regain some semblance of emotions....still not able to feel proper emotions bean. Thanks for that! lol

I saw other people filling the questions out in different ways, and it’s when I saw @pikapeppa‘s interview with Fenris and Rynne (lowkey love them so much btw) that I wanted to copy how she formatted her answers.

Anyways! I’m going to pass the tag on to @ranawaytothedas, @elveny, @rivainisomniari, @lyrium-lavellan, @faerieavalon, @solas-disapproves, @soulconsumingginge, @dharma-writes, @perhapsrampancy, @roseategales, @in-arlathan, @icanscribblestuff, @jacklyn-flynn, @kita-lavellan, and @schoute. I think that’s everyone? Sorry if I forgot you! Just consider yourself tagged and just berate me for forgetting lol

Also my first time really writing Cullen...so hopefully I got his voice down somewhat decently lmao

[Interviewer is escorted into a spacious cottage by the former Commander of the Inquisition troops. They sit down in the chair opposite of the couch, where Cullen joins the former Inquisitor. He rubs his hand across the small baby bump and kisses her temple before draping his arm behind her.]

Ita: Welcome to our home. It’s still a bit of a mess from the move. But what is this interview for again? [looks up at Cullen] Cullen [sour look on his face as he pulls her closer]: I believe Varric mentioned something about the nobility wanting to know about our ‘star-crossed’ romance or some such nonsense. Ita [disgusted noise]: Fucking nobles. Cullen [chuckles]: Agreed.

1. How did they first meet? Ita [barely containing laughter behind her remaining hand] Cullen [shakes his head and chuckles]: Maker’s Breath, love. Do you ever not find this amusing? Ita: Nope. It’s the perfect storm: a haggard and awkward templar, a brothel, a merry band of misfits following an apostate, and a mabari. You have to admit it’s funny. Cullen [snorts]: Where do you fit in with that perfect storm? Are you part of the merry band of misfits? Ita: Of course. Where else would I be? Cullen: If I remember correctly, you weren’t supposed to be there. Didn’t Hawke scold you for leaving Merrill’s house? Ita [squeaks and covers his mouth]: Hush! You can’t prove anything. Cullen [laughs and places a kiss on her fingers as he pulls them away]: Of course…I had gone to the brothel in Hightown, because one of the templar recruits had gone missing. I was hoping to glean some information from the…women there. [clears his throat and rubs the past of his neck] Ita[snorts]: And I, being the naturally curious loveable scamp that I was, had followed my dad, Hawke, and the others to the brothel. We didn’t talk that day. I was hiding behind Fenris the whole time…I don’t think you even knew my name until months later. Cullen: Varric and Hawke mentioned it the day they helped me with the camp outside of the city. Ita: Oh yeah, I remember that one. It had the demons right? Cullen: Yes.

2. What did they think of each other at first? Ita: Oh I was utterly terrified of him. [chuckles] Anders taught me at a young age templars weren’t to be trusted. The second time we met you could cut the awkward tension with a rusty spoon. Cullen: I…a spoon? [pulls back and gives her an incredulous look] Really? Ita: Well the last time we saw each other wasn’t exactly a ‘Bye! Don’t forget to write!’ kinda farewell. [looks over at interviewer] We fled Kirkwall thinking the Divine was sending an Exalted March. Hawke thought if we fled the city it would force the Divine the split up her forces….and the Conclave. I thought I was dying, and even if I didn’t I didn’t know if the Chantry would let me live. You were the last person I thought I was ever going to see again. And during that time, you were honestly the last person I wanted to see. Cullen [sighs and rubs the back of his neck]: No. You are right. My time in Kirkwall fed into my fear of mages. Towards the end, I was not kind to you. Ita: Luckily I got past the fear and wanted to ride you like a halla…bareback [snorts and kisses his jaw] Cullen [laughs and kisses her temple]: Thank the Maker you were...how did you put it the other day, ‘incredibly horny for a man in uniform with a tortured past’ I believe? Ita: So horny [sighs wistfully]…how else do you think I got pregnant so fast? Cullen[chuckles]: As she said, she was a child when we met. The second time we met…[coughs] Ita [sits back and looks up at him]: I know that cough. Spill it Commander. [pokes his side] Cullen: Maker’s breath. Do I have to answer this one? Ita: Yes! Why are you afraid? Think I’m going to make fun of you? Cullen [gives her a pointed look] Ita: Okay, fair point. I swear on Andraste’s sacred knickers I won’t make fun of you. Cullen [chuckles]: Alright…the second time we met, I won’t disagree there wasn’t an awkward tension. But all I could think about when I saw you was how relieved I was you were alive. I had missed the conversations we had before Meredith...[looks away from Ita] Ita[sighs and glances at interviewer]: Before Meredith threw me in the Circle as a hostage to get Hawke to do what she wanted her to do…and before you treated me with such disdain. [turns his face to look at her] Cullen, I have forgiven for what happened at Kirkwall. I wish you would forgive yourself. Cullen [exhales and bumps his forehead against hers]: I know. Ita: Though if you’re really wanting to make it up to me, I can suggest a few things after this. [wiggles her eyebrows and smirks] Cullen [laughs]: I shall endeavor to try my utmost to make it up to you. Ita: Oh Commander. [fans herself]

[Interviewer clears their throat, trying to steer the conversation back to the interview. Both look at them as if they were caught in a compromising position. The two cough and mumble something as they each turn their attention back to the interviewer.]

Ita: Sorry.

3. Were they immediately interested / attracted or did that come later? Ita: Well, as we’ve already established I was a kid when knew each other at first [pats his stomach] and 18 year old me was just horny for everyone. I didn’t really develop feelings for him until after the fall of Haven. He was the one who found me. [smiles and lets out a low hum as Cullen kisses her temple] I was in and out of consciousness for I have no idea how many days. Cullen [presses his lips to the top of her head]: It was three days. Ita: Ah. Well there you go. During that time, it seemed like any time I woke up he was there. He was so gentle every time he touched me. I’d listen to him pray to the Maker any time he didn’t realize I was awake…I’m convinced that’s why it’s so easy for him to get me into bed. All he has to do is start talking and my clothes just disappear. Cullen: Your clothes do not just disappear. They are strewn about the house. Ita: Half the time it isn’t my doing! Ever since I started showing you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of me. Cullen[chokes]: Maker’s breath, Ita! Ita[snorts]: What? I’m not complaining. I believe I have said, quite enthusiastically, how much I enjoy it…and I’m pretty sure I said it twice this morning. Cullen [groans and hides his face behind his hand]: I do not think that is the type of answer they are looking for, love. Ita: Ah well. It’s the one I’m giving…your turn, husband. [pats his stomach] Cullen[clears his throat and looks over at the interviewer]: I am not sure when it is I developed feelings for her. Ita: Really? Why? Cullen[turns and looks down at her]: There was a physical attraction that day at the Conclave. You weren’t a teenager anymore…Maker’s breath I am going to sound lecherous. [sighs] You were a beautiful woman, but I found myself thinking back to the you I knew in Kirkwall. I tried to get closer to you in the hopes the you I knew was still there. Ita: Wait, is that why you suggested chess the night before I closed the Breach when I couldn’t sleep? Cullen[stammers]: I…Maker’s breath. [clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck] After we talked about Kirkwall, I wanted to see…and you remembered where the pieces were on the board from our last game in Kirkwall. I knew then you were still you. I think that might have been the night I fell in love with you. [chuckles] Ita[looks over at the interviewer]: I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to finish this tomorrow. I really want to kiss my husband right now, and I don’t think you want to be here for that. [winks and turns her attention to Cullen. She grabs him by the collar and climbs onto his lap, as she pulls him in for a kiss.]

[Interviewer hastily gathers their papers and leaves the cottage.]

#They're my fluff couple that makes up for the shitstorm that is Raven and Solas #I love these two so much #and I still have so much to work out in their world #But it's gonna get done #ita tethras #My writing #my ocs #my oc #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen romance #cullenmance

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dragongeek1 · 5 years ago

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Dragon Age Lovers- Day 4, Napping Together

Obviously this prompt had to be some Modern AU Fenhawke-- it’s too perfect. Also nearly the exact opposite to the last LG ficlet I posted, which amuses me. I love this though and I had a lot of fun with it, especially throwing in Anders too, so I hope you enjoy! My tired boys finally get a nap!

Lyrium Ghosts (Modern AU) Garrett Hawke x Fenris

“Fen, I’m home,” Hawke dragged himself over the threshold into the apartment and threw his keys into the bowl by the door. He groaned and pushed both his hands into his hair and shook it vigorously, which was perfectly cathartic and helped him feel slightly less shitty. He’d driven back and forth across Kirkwall all day, juggling a job for Varric and one for Elegant that sent him to opposite ends of the city-- twice. He was, simply put, done with the day. “Do you think I can bill a client for gas money?”

“Depends on the client,” Fenris answered drily. Hawke stepped out of the entryway and found his partner perched at the kitchen breakfast bar, book in one hand and a mug in the other. Fenris immediately broke into an amused smirk when he saw Hawke’s hair, and it filled Garrett’s chest with warmth. “Well. That’s certainly a look.”

“You think? I wear this shirt all the time, but thanks.” He found himself grinning back, which sort of ruined what was supposed to be a deadpan response.

“Your hair, idiot,” Fenris had that soft look in his eyes, the one he always got when he used his favorite term of endearment for his boyfriend. Hawke leaned over the counter to brush a kiss against the elf’s cheek, and Fenris took advantage to smooth down his hair. “Mad scientist springs to mind. Or maybe just mad.”

“Probably,” Garrett let him fuss for a moment before interrupting to kiss Fenris properly, and suddenly his long day was forgotten. “Fenris-- will you be the Igor to my Dr. Frankenstein?”

Fenris rolled his eyes, but one corner of his mouth was still curved up in a smile. “That may be the most romantic thing you’ve said to me, Hawke.” He brushed down Hawke’s hair again, but the gesture was one of tenderness rather than trying to fix it.

“That’s me. Connoisseur of romance.” Fenris chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the scar on the bridge of his nose. Garrett would have happily melted under the warmth and affection of Fenris’ touches, but he was still leaning over the counter and it wasn’t the most comfortable position. “Come sit with me, I can be romantic on the couch, too.” His back protested when he stood up straight, reminding Hawke of how tired he was. He trudged into the living room and half-sat, half-fell onto the couch, quickly kicking off his boots. Garrett leaned into the corner of the couch with a groan, one arm thrown over the back and one leg up on the couch, the other on the floor.

Fenris came in after, mug abandoned in the kitchen but with his book still in hand. “Are you alright?” He tucked himself against Hawke’s chest and shoulder in the space created, pulling his feet onto the couch.

Garrett wrapped his arm around Fenris and smiled, pressing a kiss to his white hair. He loved getting to hold Fenris close and cuddle him like this. “Mhm, had a long day is all. Better, now. How was your day, love?”

He hummed and leaned back into Hawke’s chest, pillowing his head in the crook of the larger man’s shoulder. “Largely uninteresting, yet tiring. I am glad to have you home.”

Garrett nudged Fenris’ temple with his nose until he turned his head, then kissed him softly. It was lazy and slow, and Fenris tasted like the coffee he’d had earlier, and it was perfect. “Love you,” Hawke mumbled, their foreheads pressed together.

“And I you,” Fenris whispered back, pressing another gentle kiss to the stubble on Hawke’s jaw before settling back into his shoulder and opening his book. Feeling extremely content, Garrett nuzzled Fenris’ hair and pillowed his cheek on the man’s head before abruptly yawning. “Don’t fall asleep on me.” Apparently Fenris noticed.

“That’s rich, seeing as you’re the one currently using me as a pillow.” He yawned again.

Garrett couldn’t see it, but he could picture Fenris raising those dark eyebrows in response. “I’m not the one in danger of falling asleep.”

“Neither am I, so we’re even.”

Anders sighed. He’d texted Hawke half an hour ago and still hadn’t heard back. It was one of the semi-periodic ‘eat dinner with Hawke and Fenris nights,’ or as Hawke liked to put it, ‘feed the starving stray cat night.’ Hawke had texted him earlier that afternoon to come over around 7, and it was now 7:30. So he should have been off work, and he usually wasn’t this tardy in replying to a text. Anders sighed again. “I guess I can just go up there. He did say seven,” He said to his own cat. Justice only blinked at him. “Make sure he hasn’t gotten into any trouble. You know how he is.”

The tabby blinked at him again slowly and Anders stood. He left his apartment and jogged up the stairs, stopping at Hawke’s door but thinking better about barging in. More often than not Hawke left it unlocked, in part because Anders came by with some frequency and lived downstairs, and eventually Fenris had even gotten used to his random visits. But there could be a reason Hawke wasn’t answering the phone. Maker, the last thing Anders needed was to walk in on his friends having sex.

He knocked. There was no answer. “Hawke?” He knocked again. When Anders didn’t hear anything after several seconds, he sighed and put his hand back on the doorknob. Please don’t let them be having sex, Anders thought as he opened the door.

“Hawke, Fenris? Are you two decent?” He called as he walked in, stopping to listen as he closed the door. No answer, but nothing else he could hear, either. Anders tried not to feel a sense of dread as he stepped into the apartment. “Anyone home or are you two-- oh.”

They were dead asleep on the couch. Hawke had one foot on the ground and one arm hanging off the side, the other curled around Fenris’ shoulders. Fenris was basically on top of Hawke and using his chest as a pillow, and a book lay discarded on the floor nearby. Anders couldn’t help grinning at the sight. Dorks. Knowing them, it was probably a much-needed nap though. Anders snapped a picture on his phone and quickly sent it to Isabela and Merrill before saving it, then picked up a light blanket from Fenris’ armchair and carefully threw it over them. Neither even stirred, a testament to their exhaustion. Anders raided their freezer for some of the pre-made stuff Hawke always had saved, and quietly returned to his own apartment.

#14DALovers #they're such adorable DORKS #i can't stress that enough #i love them so much #14dalovers napping #dragon writings #missed yesterday but hopefully this makes up for it in cuteness and dorkiness!#also featuring anders and his cat justice!#garrett hawke resident disaster champion #otp: i will walk into the future by your side #garrett hawke: fic #lyrium ghosts #lyrium ghosts: fic #fic #ficlet

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dwarrowdams · 5 years ago

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Soothe

At the request of @aeriamamaduck: Fenris is sick (and grumpy), but Eden takes care of him anyways. Featuring Ezra Hawke (Eden’s twin) and his sometimes-successful home remedies.

Eden woke up to a blast of cold air.

She shivered and reached out for the covers only to find them pulled to the other side of the bed.

“Fenris?” she murmured as she lifted herself off the pillow. “You’ve taken all the covers.”

A low groan came from the cocoon of blankets beside her. Eden furrowed her brow as she nudged down the blankets, trying to see just where the blankets ended and Fenris began. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I feel terrible.”

“Aww,” Eden said as she pulled the covers away from Fenris’saeri face. “What’s wrong?”

Fenris sneezed. “Cold,” he muttered. “The sickness and the feeling.”

“Just wait here, love,” Eden said before leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll get you something to make you feel better.”

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I’m sure I just need some rest.”

“Of course you need rest,” Eden said as she got out of bed and wrapped her robe around her. “But you also need something to help you feel better.”

Fenris sat up and slowly turned towards her. “Hawke, just forget it,” he replied. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and do nothing.”

She heard Fenris groan as she left the room and hurried downstairs and smiled to herself. Despite his protests, she knew that Fenris would benefit from someone taking care of him today.

“Morning, E,” Ezra said as Eden entered the kitchen.

“Good morning yourself,” Eden said. “Do you have anything that might help with a cold?”

“Feeling under the weather?”

“No—it’s Fenris,” she said. “Do you mind if I take the day off? I want to make sure he actually rests up.”

Ezra arched an eyebrow at her. “Do I mind?” he asked. “Eden, I’ve been telling you to take a break for weeks now.”

Eden had a vague memory of Ezra telling her to take a day off, but it was a comment that she’d pushed aside in favor of the more important things she had to do. “And now you finally get your wish,” she said.

“If I knew that Fenris getting sick would get you to finally rest, I would’ve told him to fake a cold ages ago.”

“Fortunately for you, he has a real one,” Eden said drily. “Do we have anything that could help with that?”

“Hmm,” Ezra mused as he opened the cupboards. “I have a few things that might work—give me a minute.”

Ezra had always had an interest in medicine. Since Bethany had been taken to the Circle, he had learned how to treat common and non-serious ailments: a relief, since he and Eden had enough chronic conditions between them to make any healer sigh in exasperation. His cough syrup and calming tea had helped Eden through more than one rough spot over the past several years and even though Anders’s clinic wasn’t far away, she was glad to have a healer at home again. Besides, going to Darktown on the cusp of an anxiety attack wasn’t a sustainable idea.

“Ah, here we go,” he said. He took a bottle from one of the cabinets and handed it to her. “Heat some water and add a few spoonfuls,” he said. “Add some honey for good measure—it’s pretty disgusting, but it’ll help his throat and his nose and give his immune system a gentle kick in the ass. Give him more in the afternoon if he still feels shitty.”

“You’re the best,” Eden said as she wrapped her brother in a one-armed hug. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Just take care of Fenris and enjoy your time off,” Ezra replied. “That’s more than enough.”

“Thank you,” Eden said, setting the bottle down on the counter before reaching for the kettle. “I suppose you’re going to see Sebastian first?” she asked.

“Naturally,” Ezra replied. “He lives closest. It wouldn’t make sense to head down to Lowtown only to come all the way back to get him.”

“Of course,” Eden said as she filled the kettle with water. “And this has nothing to do with the two of you getting to spend some time alone together, right?”

Ezra flushed. “That’s certainly an upside of it,” he admitted.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be just as excited for that time alone as you are,” Eden said. “I know you want to give him time, but with the way he’s been looking at you, I doubt he’ll need much more of it.”

“I hope you’re right, E,” Ezra replied. “I just hope I don’t embarrass myself.”

“If you do, there’s no one better to do it in front of,” Eden said. “It might be a little awkward at first, but he won’t ever tease you about it.”

“Is this about the time you answered the door in a bedsheet and it was Sebastian instead of me or Amaryllis?”

Eden flushed. “It might be,” she said. “At least he didn’t mention it to anyone else. I’m not sure Varric would’ve ever let me hear the end of it, but Sebastian hasn’t breathed a word.”

“True,” Ezra said. “Speaking of attire, should I change my shirt? I think I wore this one the last time I saw Sebastian.”

“Ezra, please tell me you’re not about to go out fighting in nothing but this,” she said, gently tugging at the sleeve of his thin shirt.

“Ah fuck, that’s right—stabbing is a thing that could happen,” he muttered. “He’ll see the sleeves, though, and he might know it’s the same one.”

Eden sighed. Her brother was overanalyzing the situation, but she knew better than to talk him out of changing his shirt. If that was what he needed to feel a little less nervous, then so be it. “Wear a blue one,” she said. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Perfect,” Ezra said, already removing his shirt as he ran upstairs. “Thanks, E!”

Eden shook her head and smiled as she took a mug out of the cupboard. Her brother might be the more organized and rational of the two of them, but having a crush always made him a little frazzled. She could only hope that today would ease his anxiety around Sebastian instead of increasing it.

A while later, Eden carried the diluted medicine into hers and Fenris’s room.

Fenris’s brow furrowed as she entered. “You’re staying home today?” he asked.

Eden nodded. “Ezra’s handling things,” she said as she sat beside him on the bed, cradling the mug between her hands. “Now drink this.”

Fenris peered suspiciously at the mug. “What is it?”

“Medicine,” she said. “It might not taste good, but it’ll help.”

Fenris took the cup from her and sipped cautiously at the beverage. As soon as it passed his lips, he shoved the mug back into Eden’s hands.

“Hawke,” he said, “that is disgusting.”

“You don’t have to drink it all at once,” Eden said. “Just take it a little at a time and it won’t be so bad.”

“Did your brother tell you what he put in it?” Fenris asked.

Eden shook her head.

“Taste it,” Fenris said. “I’m not going to drink any more until you know what you just made me put in my mouth.”

Eden took a sip, expecting a bit of unpleasantness, but she was not prepared for the acidic sourness that assaulted her mouth. “Oh sweet Maker,” she sighed once she’d recovered from the taste. “He must’ve used apple cider vinegar as the base. It is good for you, but it tastes awful.”

“Perhaps because it’s so disgusting that it makes everything less disgusting by comparison.”

Eden smiled. “You’re supposed to dilute it a lot,” she said. “The taste doesn’t bother Ezra, so he must’ve gotten the amounts wrong.”

“How does it not bother him?”

“Sensory issues,” Eden said. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s been unpleasantly surprised like this. Just think of it as initiation into the family.”

“I’d prefer something less painful,” Fenris replied.

“I don’t blame you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss Fenris on the forehead. “I’ll try adding this to some tea. Hopefully then it won’t taste quite so bad.”

Fenris chuckled darkly. “If it does, I’ll just stay sick.”

Half an hour later, Fenris had finished the drink and was swaddled under no fewer than six blankets. He’d initially protested, but Eden had felt how cold his extremities were and immediately dragged three more blankets out of the linen closet. He was sending halfhearted glares in her direction every so often, but Eden hadn’t heard him complain about being cold.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked.

“Yes. For you to stop asking me that.”

“Anything besides that,” she said. “And don’t tell me to go away either. You’re stuck with me for the day.”

A smile flicked across Fenris’s face. “Shame.”

“I know,” Eden replied, sighing in mock exasperation. “How terrible.”

Fenris chuckled. “I can think of worse punishments.”

Eden arched an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Before Fenris could answer, Ezra strode through the door, clad in the blue shirt that Eden had suggested.

“Like him,” Fenris said.

“What?” Ezra asked as he spread his arms in surrender. “What did I do?”

“Apple cider vinegar,” Fenris spat.

Ezra’s brow furrowed for a moment before his face lit up with realization. “Ah fuck, I didn’t tell Eden to dilute it enough.”

“Yes, we figured that out,” Eden said drily. “I fixed it, though—or at least I managed to give Fenris something drinkable.”

“Good,” Ezra said. “Try giving him two more doses—that should do the trick.”

Eden nodded. “Anything else that could help?”

“Ah, I nearly forgot,” Ezra said, turning his attention to Fenris as he placed a small tin on the nightstand. “I have some salve for you too—not for your cold, but for your pain. I’ve been working on it for a while now, but I think I’ve finally got it right. Let me know if it works and if it doesn’t, I’ll try tweaking it.”

Fenris picked up the tin, rolling it between his hands before tossing it back onto the nightstand with a sigh. “Now you’re both fussing over me,” he muttered.

Ezra chuckled. “You signed up for it when you moved in with us,” he said. “We’re good at taking care of people, even when those people act like they don’t need help.”

“I don’t,” insisted Fenris.

“I know,” Ezra replied. “But it’s easier to have someone help you than to struggle along by yourself.”

Fenris’s mouth quirked up into a brief smile. “Thank you, Hawke,” he said. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”

Ezra waved away the comment. “It was nothing—just something I’ve been working on here or there.”

“Ezra,” Eden chided, “you’ve been working on that salve for months.”

“Only because I had to wait until I was sore to test it.”

“Don’t believe him,” she murmured to Fenris. “I know exactly how much time he spent on this.”

“Well, thank you for tarnishing that image of me as a medical genius,” Ezra teased. “I’d better be going now before you make me look any worse.”

“Be safe,” she said as she pulled him into an embrace.

“Of course,” he replied, giving Eden a final squeeze before he headed for the door. “See you later, E.”

Eden waved to him one last time before shutting the door and sitting down on the bed beside Fenris. “So, should we try out the salve?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Fenris said as he eyed the tin. “At least I don’t have to worry about the taste, but after that...I don’t exactly have full confidence in your brother’s medical skills.”

“You know,” Eden said, “I don’t blame you.”

#hush Bree #fenden #eden hawke #eden fic #*frodo possessed by the Ring voice*: it's here...it's come #also: yes apple cider vinegar is good for the immune system!#don't drink it straight though bc it damages your tooth enamel #(a warning from someone who did drink it straight from the bottle a la Ezra Hawke)#Brynne for ts

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cruelangelstheses · 5 years ago

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the drums of the beating rain

fandom: dragon age rating: G characters: fenris/m!hawke words: 1.8k additional tags: modern au, fluff, humor, established relationship description: the power goes out during a storm. hawke decides that this would be the perfect opportunity to build a pillow fort with fenris. a/n: :3 this was written for @fenrisappreciationmonth day 25: domesticity. title is from “brother” by gerard way

read it on ao3

—

The power is only out for about a minute before Hawke says, “I have an idea.”

Fenris glances up from the kitchen drawer he’s been digging through. “I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing,” he comments with a half-smirk as he retrieves what he was looking for: a lighter.

Hawke bounces over to him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “We should build a pillow fort.”

Fenris closes the drawer and raises an eyebrow. “A pillow fort?” he repeats, lighter in hand.

“Yes!” Hawke says. “It’s dark and cold and stormy outside, and the power’s out, and my phone is on fifteen percent battery life. It’s perfect.”

Fenris isn’t quite sure he completely follows Hawke’s logic, but that’s not uncommon. “I don’t know how much help I would be,” he says, shifting his weight.

“That’s why you have me,” Hawke says without missing a beat. “We Hawkes are experts at building pillow forts.”

Fenris chuckles. “Alright. Sure. Just let me light some candles first so we can actually see in here.” He holds up the lighter.

Hawke beams, a smile that could probably light up the whole of Kirkwall on its own. “Great! I’ll start grabbing the pillows—and blankets!” With that, he rushes over to the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Fenris shakes his head and tries not to smile.

Ten minutes, five candles, seven pillows, and four blankets later, Hawke and Fenris are sitting on the couch in the living room, staring at the blank piece of scrap paper on their coffee table. Hawke taps his pencil against his chin, deep in thought. Fenris glances out the window, at the torrential downpour currently engulfing the city. A flash of lightning brightens the room, followed by a crack of thunder a moment later.

“Well. Clearly we’ll need to take the couch cushions out,” Hawke says, as if it’s obvious.

Fenris can’t help but laugh. “You sound so businesslike. As if you’re a scientist setting up an experiment.”

“I think I’m more of an architect, actually,” Hawke says as he starts to sketch out the “blueprint” of their pillow fort. Reflexively, Fenris smacks his hand against his forehead and laughs again.

“I’ve got it!” Hawke says, snapping his fingers and gesturing to the recliner on the other side of the room. He draws it on one side of the paper, fully reclined so that the footrest portion is sticking straight out. Then, on either side, he draws a couch cushion, with another large pillow to finish the “roof.”

“Will that work?” Fenris asks.

Hawke puts a hand against his chest in mock offense. “Fenris, your skepticism wounds me,” he says dramatically. Setting the pencil down and standing up, he says, “Let’s get to work!”

They start, as Hawke suggested, by removing the couch cushions. Then Fenris pulls the lever on the recliner so that the footrest is all the way out, like in the drawing. Hawke grabs one of the couch cushions and shoves it right underneath one end of the footrest. Height-wise, it fits perfectly—the only way it would ever fall over is if someone pushed it. It’s a bit longer than the recliner and sticks out a bit, but that just makes the fort bigger.

Fenris does the same thing with another cushion so that they’re matching on either side. Hawke nods approvingly and reaches for a blanket. When Fenris stares at him in confusion, Hawke says, “Well, we’re not just gonna lay down on the carpet. What are we, barbarians?”

Fenris helps him spread the blanket out on the floor. (They realize simultaneously that they probably should have done this first.) Then Hawke grabs a pillow from their bed and rests it on the gap between the two cushions that isn’t covered by the footrest. Fenris grabs another blanket and spreads it out on top of the “roof.”

“Yes! Good!” Hawke says with a grin, grabbing a few more pillows and tossing them inside the fort. “Let’s check it out!”

Before Fenris has the chance to point out how small it looks, Hawke crawls on his elbows and stomach into the pillow fort, so Fenris shrugs and follows his lead.

When they’re both inside, they find themselves shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, squished up next to each other. Their feet are sticking out of the fort, and they can barely lift their heads up without hitting the underside of the footrest. “Hawke, I don’t mean to criticize,” Fenris says slowly, “but it’s a bit…small.”

Hawke seems to be thinking the same thing. “You know, I just realized something,” he says, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “The last time I did this, I was eleven years old and about four foot ten.”

Fenris snorts and buries his face in his forearms. “Well, we tried.”

But Hawke doesn’t seem completely ready to give up his quest. “No. It needs to be better than this,” he says, furrowing his brows. “There has to be another way.”

For a moment, they lie on the floor in silence—Hawke thinking deeply, and Fenris watching him. His chest swells with fondness at Hawke’s constant determination, his drive, no matter how big or small the task. There’s a part of Fenris that suddenly just really wants to kiss him.

“Eureka!” Hawke shouts suddenly, leaping up automatically and banging his head against the “ceiling” of the fort. Completely unfazed, he crawls out of the fort. “I’ll be right back!”

By the time Fenris exits the fort, Hawke is already gone, but he soon returns with a giant bed sheet. Fenris raises an eyebrow. “And this fixes all our problems...how?”

Hawke throws the sheet onto the ground, on top of their unused blankets and pillows. “Clear the living room,” he says without answering Fenris’s question. “I’ll explain then.”

So they tear down their first attempt at a pillow fort and push the recliner and the coffee table closer to the wall. “Okay,” Hawke says, clapping his hands together. “Now. We need three dining room chairs.”

Fenris cocks his head to one side in confusion, but he doesn’t question it. He’s learned over the years that there is (usually) a method to Hawke’s nonsense.

As he carries one of the chairs from the dining room into the living room, he calls over his shoulder, “I thought you said you would explain this to me.”

Hawke appears in the dining room entrance with one chair on each shoulder. “I will. After we get these chairs.”

Fenris can’t help it; he laughs so hard he nearly drops his own chair. “You look absurd,” he says. “How are you going to get through the doorway?”

“Sideways, baby!” Hawke proclaims, turning his body to one side and bending his knees so that the chairs don’t hit the top of the doorway. Sure enough, ridiculous though it seems, this method allows him to successfully inch his way through the door and into the hallway.

“Surely there are easier ways to carry those chairs,” Fenris says as they make their way to the living room and set the chairs down.

“Yes, but they’re less fun,” Hawke replies with a grin.

Fenris just smiles and shakes his head. “So, what’s your Plan B?”

Hawke cracks his knuckles. “Okay,” he says, grabbing one of the chairs and setting it down at one end of the living room area, facing the couch. “We’re gonna put these chairs in a triangle formation.” As he speaks, he takes a second chair and positions it on the other side of the room so that it and the first chair are back-to-back. Fenris, picking up on his idea, grabs the third chair and positions it equidistant from the other two, with its back facing them.

“Great! Perfect!” Hawke says, rushing over to their pile of bed accessories and grabbing the bed sheet. “Now we’re gonna spread this out on top of them. It’ll be our ceiling. With any luck, we’ll be able to sit up inside the fort without hitting anything.”

Hawke takes one end of the sheet, and Fenris grabs the other. They end up pushing the first two chairs a bit closer together, and then they spread the sheet out and drape it across the chairs, making sure that it covers each one almost completely so that it’s less likely to fall. Then Hawke grabs a few random books that were lying around the house and puts one on each seat to hold the sheet down.

The next thing they do is spread out some blankets underneath the “ceiling.” (Evidently, they did not learn from their mistakes and once again forgot to do this first.) Then Hawke props the couch cushions up against the chairs to create something resembling walls. He leaves the area between the first two chairs open and tosses some of their extra pillows into the fort.

“Pillow fort, round two!” he proclaims. “Let’s see how this one feels.”

It already looks a lot better (and bigger) than their first one did. Hawke crawls into the fort, and Fenris follows suit, pleasantly surprised to find that they’re not squished right up next to each other. He’s also pleasantly surprised to find that, just as Hawke hoped, they’re both able to sit up without hitting or bumping into anything.

“Well?” Hawke says expectantly, lightning illuminating his face for a brief moment. “How is it?”

Fenris is suddenly aware of Hawke’s eyes on him. “It’s much better,” he says truthfully. “I like it. Why?”

Hawke shrugs. “Well, I know you never really got to do these sorts of things,” he says slowly. “So I wanted your first pillow fort-building experience to be perfect. Which isn’t hard to do when I’m involved, but...” He laughs a little, but behind the joke, it’s clear he genuinely wanted to make Fenris happy with this whole affair.

Fenris smiles and leans forward, planting a kiss on Hawke’s cheek. “It was perfect,” he says quietly, and he means it with everything in him. “Thank you, Hawke.”

Hawke opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by a yawn. “It’s getting late,” he comments. “We could sleep in here tonight. Y’know, if you want.”

“Of course,” Fenris agrees. Already he can feel his eyelids growing heavy.

So they sleep on the living room floor, two blankets underneath them and two on top, surrounded by pillows and the sound of the pounding rain and rumbling thunder. Fenris rests his head against Hawke’s chest and wraps an arm around him, holding him close.

“I could stay like this forever,” Hawke breathes as he drifts off.

Fenris lifts his head up and kisses him softly on the lips. “So could I, Hawke,” he whispers. “So could I.”

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age ii #da2 #fenhawke #fenris #hawke #male hawke #my fics

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randomwordsandstormydays · 5 years ago

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The One Where Garrett Loses His Husband

Have another snippet from one on my OC’s lives: Garrett Thomas. This writing is about exactly what the title says, you get to see how Garrett, a Brotherhood Knight, loses his husband Andrew.

TW: character death

The transformation starts slowly, and at first Garrett just thinks that his husband is sick. The fatigue and sore throat can be explained away easy enough using that assumption, and his worry is satiated. When Andrew’s hair begins to thin and then fall out, they worry it’s radiation poisoning, and Garrett secretly steals a few radaways from Dr. Cade’s medical supplies. No amount of medicine seems to help, however, and Andrew makes a joke that he’s just getting old.

It’s only when helping his husband change one night that he realizes exactly what’s happening.

There’s a patch of skin starting from Andrew’s lower back that snakes its way across his left side before coming to rest right below his shoulder blade. It’s dry and patchy, a deep reddish purple in color, and feels like leather to the touch.

Andrew is turning into a ghoul.

In the back of his mind, Garrett always knew that this was a possibility. His husband works down in the kitchen, working with raw food and wasteland creatures, that put out rads at higher than recommended levels. Every time they cook anything Andrew is exposed to radiated and mutated meat and contaminated, irradiated water. People that work on Andrew’s team and in his section are more likely than others to experience the adverse effects of long term exposure to radiation. Garrett always just assumed he’d get rad poisoning… not this.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Garrett realizes that he’s frozen, fingers still hovering over the edge of his husband’s skin. He’s not sure what to do, does he tell him? Does he keep it a secret? Brotherhood protocol states that he must report this development to his superior officer, but this is Andrew, the man who saved him from himself, the love of his life. Could he really just turn him in? He pictures Andrew being taken away from the compound, dragged into some dirty alley, shot, killed, body left for the scavvers.

No. The answer is no.

“Nothing, love,” he punctuates his words with a gentle kiss to his husband’s shoulder, prays that his voice is steady, “I just forget how handsome you are sometimes.” It’s not technically a lie, but the words taste bitter on his tongue anyways.

He must not be shaking enough for his husband to notice because that gets him a laugh. Andrew spins in his embrace and loops his arms around his neck. “How can you say that when I look like this now?” The question is asked with humor, but Garrett can read sadness behind his eyes.

He leans down and kisses Andrew, feels something inside his chest shift when his husband sighs into his mouth, realizes that it’s his heart. When he pulls back the doubt is gone, replaced by adoration. “I don’t care if all your hair falls out and never comes back. You’ll always be handsome to me.” Garrett loves the blush that slides across Andrew’s face, it always happens when he gives a genuine compliment, or bares his honest feelings.

“I love you, you know? Forever and always.” Andrew mutters against his lips as he leans in for another kiss.

“I love you, too.” Garrett refuses to think about how long their forever will be.

It’s two weeks later when Andrew learns the truth.

Garrett is just coming off of his shift in the belly of the Brotherhood’s newest technological feat: The Prydwen. He’s tired, sore, and hungry, but all of that fades when he opens the door to his and Andrew’s room and find his husband sitting on the edge of their bed, head in his hands. All is silent in the room except for two things: the low hum of the machinery that can be heard all over the compound, and his husband’s hiccuping cries.

He doesn’t think, just drops his goggles onto the floor and drops down next to Andrew, sliding into the space between his legs and lifting his head with his hands. “Andrew, what’s wrong?” There are tear tracks down both of his cheeks and his eyes are red and puffy, clearly he’s been crying for a while. Twice Andrew goes to speak, but nothing comes out but another sob. Garrett turns his body so that he can hold him tighter before running a hand up and down Andrew’s back, trying to soothe him with the gentle touch. He has no idea how long he kneels there, holding his husband and trying to think of some way to help, but it’s long enough that his back cracks and his knees ache when Andrew finally pulls back.

There’s no eye contact between them when he gets an answer, even though Garrett tries to catch his husband’s eye. “It’ll be easier to show you.”

Garrett rises from the floor and takes a step back, giving Andrew room to maneuver. Wordlessly he watches as Andrew lifts up his shirt, exposing his upper body. Garrett’s mouth goes dry as his husband turns, showing off his back. The patch of ghoulified skin has spread, now spanning the entire bottom half of Andrew’s back, half of his left side, and stops at the very base of his neck. The sight sends dread through his entire body, did Andrew figure this out on his own, or did someone else spot it?

It’s only when the shirt falls back into place and Andrew turns around that he realizes that he never responded. Something in his face must give away that he knew because the devastation on Andrew’s face turns into scrutiny and confusion.

“Did you… did you already know?”

After a moment of hesitation, he nods his head, once, quick. Anger sparks behind Andrew’s eyes and he stalks forward until he’s right in front of Garrett.

“Why the hell would you keep this from me?” His voice is tainted with venom and Garrett can feel it begin to poison him from the inside out. Andrew has never spoken to him like that before, full of anger, hate, betrayal, and pain. He knows the only way to explain himself is with the truth.

“Because I was scared.” His voice cracks on the final word and Garrett lets out a shuddering breath. “I was terrified that if I told you that you’d want to turn yourself in, that somehow they’d find out,” tears prick at his eyes but he doesn’t move to stop them as they begin to slide down his face, “that they’d take you away and I’d never see you again.”

He reaches up to grasp at Andrew’s face, needing to feel him. “I know I should have told you, I shouldn’t have let you find out alone,” Andrew no longer looks half a second away from shooting him, more like he’s a breath away from collapsing instead, “but I wanted to live in denial a little longer, pretend that you were going to be okay.”

Andrew collapses into his chest and immediately Garrett raises his hand to hold him. They’re both quiet for a very long time, no words are spoken as the reality of their situation swirls in the air around them, squeezing at Garrett’s lungs. He takes a deep breath, trying to fight the panic that is creeping across his throat, tightening against his skin. He needs to stay calm, if not for himself then for Andrew. At least one of them needs to keep a level head, and he can’t expect the man who’s turning into a ghoul to hold that responsibility.

The silence breaks, cracks in half with two words, spoken against Garrett’s chest and muffled by his shirt. “What now?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “Our choices aren’t great.”

There aren’t many options before them, each one less appealing than the previous. They could run away, try and fall in with the people of the Capitol, and spend the rest of their lives on the run from the Brotherhood. They could keep Andrew’s condition a secret, run the risk of getting caught, both of them executed or, even worse, Garrett could be banished while Andrew is killed. Or, they could go to their leadership, beg to be released from duty, pray that they’ll let Andrew leave, and that they’ll let Garrett go with him. None of these appeal to the couple.

One look at his husband’s face and Garrett can tell that Andrew doesn’t want to make this decision. Anything he does potentially puts them both in danger and he would never make a decision that would put Garrett in harm’s way. So, he makes the choice for Andrew.

“We’ll keep it a secret, for now. Until I can get a feel for what Paladin Fenris might do or say.” He pulls back so he can make eye contact. “I won’t say anything to him if I think he might try to take you away. I’m not leaving you to go through this alone.” He leans down to press their foreheads together. “I’m with you until the end.”

Their end, their forever, comes sooner than either expected.

Garrett is working on fixing a leaky compressor, when Paladin Fenris approaches him. “Knight Thomas, your presence is requested. You are to report to Paladin Hopson at once.” Once he responds in the affirmative his leader turns and makes his exit. He’s gone quick enough that he doesn’t see the way Garrett’s hands begin to shake or the way his breathing picks up. Paladin Hopson is in charge of Andrew. Garrett can only hope that it’s not his worst nightmare comes to life, although he wouldn’t be surprised.

As he walks, he notices that his legs feel both like rubber and steal at the same time. Both like they can’t support his weight and like, they themselves, weigh hundreds of pounds. He’s not walking in the proper rhythm, his cadence is off, but no one makes mention of it as he walks down the docking line and towards the Vertibird that is waiting for him. His arms shake as he lifts himself into the belly of the bird and he can’t bring himself to make eye contact with the Scribe who’s flying him down when she asks if he’s okay. Something comes out of his mouth, but the muttering statement he gives her isn’t heard by himself, so he can’t be positive he actually spoke.

It feels like he’s being marched to his own execution, but he knows it’s worse. It’s Andrew’s. He’s received no confirmation that he’s being taken down because of the ghoulification process, but there’s no other reason for the secrecy, the direct order, or the other Knight that follows him down, pistol cocked and ready to fire. One wrong move and he’ll be a puddle of goo.

Garrett finds himself praying that someone will attack them, distract everyone for long enough that he can find Andrew and escape, even though no one in the Capital would be stupid enough to attack a Brotherhod compound. No such thing happens, and far too quickly the Vertibird lands, and he’s escorted off.

People watch him as he walks by, their faces filled with different emotions: sadness, fear, anger, disgust, sympathy. That alone is confirmation enough for him, they know why he’s here. They know why a Knight who spent his entire career in the bottom of different ships and planes would be outside, down on the ground, walking slowly. Word spreads quickly through the Brotherhood that has been chosen to break off to go to the Commonwealth, so he’s not surprised that everyone knows and that everyone can’t stop looking.

He follows the other Kight, Henderson he thinks, to one of the very last buildings in Brotherhood territory. Every step he takes feels like a betrayal to his husband. He should be fighting back, he should attempt to overpower his escort, steal his weapon, storm into the building, take out all the guards waiting, and rescue Andrew. But he’s not that fast, he’s not that good with a weapon, and he’s more likely to get them both killed than do any good. Still, his heart pounds as his body floods with adrenaline and goosebumps pop up across his skin as his anxiety increases.

His breakfast threatens to make an appearance as he enters the metal structure. The sounds of his footsteps ring loudly in his ear, and he slows both an attempt to lower the sound and delay the inevitable. The other Knight doesn’t let him pause, instead he’s shoved through a nondescript door and into a room.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust and when they do he goes to step forward. Andrew is tied to a chair, bleeding from his lower lip, eyes trained on the floor. Before he can move even one step Knight Henderson grips him by the arm. The power armor digs into his flesh, forcing a small cry of pain out of him. The sound must alert Andrew to his presence because the man looks up, fear is written all over his face and it takes everything in Garrett to keep himself from fighting back and rushing to Andrew’s side.

Everyone in the room is watching him, looking for his response. He goes for ignorance. “What the hell is going on here. Why is my husband tied to a fucking chair?”

At that Andrew’s eyes light up. “I told you he didn’t know. I kept it a secret from everyone.”

And just like that Garrett feels the floor slip out from under his feet. They know. It wasn’t like he didn’t suspect the reasoning behind his appearance, but now he’s got confirmation, and it makes him sick. However, Andrew is looking at him like his play is the right one, which means he has to keep playing along.

“What don’t I know, what secret?” He asks it to Andrew, playing the part of a confused husband, but he glances up to the others in the room, a Paladin, and an officer of Elder Maxon’s table. Garrett glances back down. “Andrew, what didn’t you tell me?”

“Knight Thomas, Scribe Thomas has begun the transformation into a ghoul.” Garrett knows that they’re looking for his reaction, so he plays the part.

He takes a step back, eyes wide in shock, like the news physically hurts him, and raises a hand over his chest. “What?” The word comes out strangled as he attempts to lace it with the same fear he felt the first day he discovered the ghoulified skin creeping across his husband’s back. Then, he switches tactics, he lets his hands ball into fist, channeling the anger that he has at the whole situation. “No that’s not possible,” his gaze drops to meet his husband’s eye, “Andrew tell me that’s not true.”

Instead of responding Andrew drops his head down to his chest and refuses to look at him. The Paladin speaks for him.

“Unfortunately, it is true. However,” he glances at the officer who nods once, “your reaction seems genuine. While it is unfortunate that you had to find out this way, the Brotherhood has strict rules in regards to ghouls.”

“He’s not a ghoul.” Garrett argues. “Not… not yet at least.”

He thinks he might see sympathy flash for a moment across the Paladin’s face. “While we understand your hesitation, your loyalties are still in question, Knight. You have two options. Perform your duties as the Brotherhood directs, or be charged with treason.”

At that Andrew’s head snaps up, panic floating over his features. “No, no, he didn’t know. You can’t honestly expect him to-”

“Quiet, abomination!” The officer’s voice is commanding, and leaves no room for argument. The man steps forward, producing a 10mm pistol from his side holster and holding towards him. “Knight Thomas, make your decision.”

Garrett can feel tears welling up behind his eyes, threatening to spill down. He refuses to let them fall, he has to stay strong, he can’t let them see weakness, he can’t let Andrew see him falter.

Still, he doesn’t know what to do. He never expected the Brotherhood to make him execute his own husband. How is he supposed to do that? There’s no way, he’ll refuse and take the courts-martial. But even if he does that Andrew will still die, by his hand or another’s Andrew won’t be making it out of this room. One look at his husband’s face and he can read the answer there. Better to die at the hands of the one you know, understanding that they do it out of love and compassion, rather than put down by someone who sees you as little more than a dog.

He takes the gun.

“Don’t I get to say goodbye?” It’s Garrett’s last protest, his only request.

“No.”

Andrew’s face is full of understanding, he nods once, a silent ‘it’s okay, go ahead’. Never before has a weapon felt this heavy in Garrett’s hands. Then again, he’s never had to shoot someone he cared about before. The room is silent as he steps forward and raises the pistol.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Neither one of them feels embarrassment at the conversation, too busy reassuring the other.

Andrew closes his eyes.

Gunfire rings in Garrett’s ears for days after, filling the silence where Andrew’s voice would normally be.

- - -

Click here to go back to my OC writings master list.

#oc: garrett thomas #random writes #random's ocs

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nalgenewhore · 4 years ago

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masterlist - ao3 - day five - day seven

<3<3<3

Elide stands in the doorway of her loft apartment, empty save for the cheap furniture that was already here when she moved in.

Her slender, sloped eyes fill with tears and she folds her arms across her body, her hands gripping the opposite sweater sleeve. She doesn’t hear or sense the person walking down the hall until they’ve wrapped their arms around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head, “You good?”

Tilting her head up, she looks into Lorcan’s dark, depthless eyes. “Kind of.” Elide leans into her fiancée and sighs shakily, her vision blurring. “I’m going to miss this place.”

“Me too,” Lorcan says, resting her chin on top of Elide’s head. “We had our first kiss here.”

Elide grins, “Yeah… we said our first ‘I love you’ here, too.” They’re silent for a long moment, thinking and reminiscing. Elide is the first to move. She turns in Lorcan’s arms and smiles up at her, “I think I’m ready to go now.”

Her fiancée drops her hand to Elide’s lower back. “Ok. We have time, you know. You don’t have to rush this. I know you loved your apartment. It was your home.”

Elide lifts onto the tips of her toes and kisses Lorcan gently, her hands looping around Lorcan’s neck. “I know.” She bumps her nose into Lorcan’s and pulls back slightly, so that they still share a breath. “But I’m ready to go. To our home.”

A happy grin steals across Lorcan’s face and she presses her lips to Elide’s. Elide melts against her, one hand sliding to Lorcan’s cheek. Lorcan’s teeth graze over her bottom lip and she sucks Elide’s lip into her mouth, licking her tongue over the small hurt. The motion pulls a moan from Elide’s throat.

When they pull apart, their chests rise and fall faster than usual. Elide sweetly pushes Lorcan’s hair back and steps away, bending down to pick up the last box. It has her most valued possessions, like movie ticket stubs from dates, a rock from the lake near her childhood home, a strip of photos from a photobooth. “It’s time.”

Lorcan nods and Elide slips the key off of her keychain. She leaves it on the counter and takes Lorcan’s hand, squeezing twice. Lorcan smiles and they walk down to her truck. Elide fits the last one in the truck bed next to the others. She walks around to the passenger seat and climbs in, grinning at her fiancée.

The dark woman’s eyes sparkle and she starts the engine, reaching over to turn Elide’s face, “I love you, Lee.”

Elide smiles and bites her lip, “I love you too, L.” She kisses Lorcan’s palm and pulls the hand on her face down to her lap. As Lorcan begins to drive, Elide opens her window and leans towards it, letting the golden, brilliant sun shine across her face.

The air is warm and sunshiney, coaxing a wide grin across her face. Lorcan glances over and smiles at the sight of her girl so happy. She lifts Elide’s hand and kisses her knuckles, resting their joined hands on the centre console.

Their new bungalow is only fifteen minutes away. Lorcan parks in front of the front gate and they step out, meeting by the tailgate.

For the next hour, they move all the boxes into the living room. Elide divides different sections that relate to the different rooms and stacks the boxes that Lorcan carries in in neat piles. When Lorcan tries to put a heavy box, labelled BEDROOM, down, Elide stops her, gasping like she’s committed some crime against humanity. “Oh my gods, Lorcan, were you even listening?! That’s the kitchen pile, bedroom stuff goes over there.”

Lorcan arches her brow and slowly puts the box down in its correct spot. “Lee…”

Elide looks at her and sighs, “Yeah. I’m just- I want it to be perfect.”

Lorcan snorts and slides behind Elide, sweeping her up in a tight hug. She nips at the skin beneath Elide’s ear and whispers, “It’s us, when are things ever perfect?”

“Put me down, you big bully!”

“Oh, now, no need to be rude,” Lorcan says, finally letting Elide free. She pivots sharply and frowns up at Lorcan, her arms angrily crossed. Lorcan steps forward and cups Elide’s face, lifting it up. She strokes her thumbs over Elide’s strong jaw, “Sweetheart.”

“Lorcan.”

“I think you should step back for a couple minutes, maybe eat something, drink some water.”

“Stop trying to baby me.”

Lorcan clicks her tongue, “I am not babying you, I’m taking care of the woman I’m marrying in three months.” She bends her head to press a series of soft kisses across Elide’s face. “I got this. Go for a drive, or something. Just get out of here.”

Elide is still frowning as she begrudgingly agrees, “Fine. You’re probably right.” She closes her eyes and sighs through her nose. When she opens her eyes, she looks up at Lorcan and nods, offering her an apologetic grin. “Thank you. For taking care of me.” Elide stands on her tiptoes and kisses the sensitive spot beneath Lorcan’s jaw.

Lorcan rubs Elide’s back, “You’re very welcome.” For a moment, they remain frozen in their gentle moment. Elide rests her face in the hollow of Lorcan’s neck, breathing in that cedar perfume that is so familiar to her. Lorcan’s arms loosen, and Elide calmly steps back, the frown melted from her face.

She takes Lorcan hands and presses her lips to Lorcan’s knuckles, “I’m going. I’ll get us food.”

Lorcan grins and kisses Elide’s forehead, “Will you get me a coffee?”

“I will,” Elide promises, walking backwards towards the door after she takes the keys out of Lorcan’s pocket. Once she reaches the door, she turns and flashes Lorcan a wide grin, the freckles on her cheeks shifting, “Be back soon, babe.”

“Yeah, not too soon,” Lorcan warns, slowly making her way to the open door. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, hon.” Elide blows her a kiss and waves her fingers. Lorcan smiles and closes the door, breathing out a sigh of relief. With Elide gone, she can actually get things done.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and opens the calling app. Lorcan calls the person she always calls.

It rings for a while and Lorcan waits patiently, knowing exactly what the golden nightmare is doing.

“Salvaterre,” Aelin purrs, “how can I help you today?”

“Feel like distracting Lee?”

Aelin laughs, “She still freaking out about the move?��

“Mmm-hmm,” Lorcan leans to the side, glancing out of the living room window. She sees the truck becoming smaller and smaller. “I made her leave for food so that gives us, like… half an hour at most.”

On the other end of the line, Aelin hums in contemplation. “Ok… I’ll see where she’s at and intercept and I’ll send the cavalry to you.”

Lorcan watches the truck disappear around the corner. “‘t’s nice to know that you can be helpful once in a while.”

Aelin sniffs, “I like being unpredictable. Anyhoozles,” Lorcan hates that word, “I’m off. I’ll bring her back in, what, six hours?”

“Yep. See you then, Ash.”

Aelin says good-bye and they both hang up. Lorcan opens Spotify and scrolls through her playlists, smiling when she sees the new one Elide has to have made. It’s title simply with the date it was created. She presses shuffle play and puts it down on the fireplace mantel.

The first song that plays is upbeat and fast. Lorcan recognises it almost immediately and a smile pulls at her full lips.

I can’t remember when we met because she didn’t have a top on… top on…

I improvised a ‘lil bit - she said my references were spot on… spot on…

Softly, Lorcan starts to sing along, “‘Can I take you for a drink?’ She said, ‘Oh god, I’ll have to think, ‘cause we’re mates it doesn’t feel right?’”

And I said “It’s cool” and “I was messing”...

But it’s true, yeah it’s you

You’re the one that makes me feel right…

By the time she’s listened through seven more songs, Lorcan has unpacked the kitchen boxes. She lifts her head when she hears three obnoxious voices and frowns out the window, watching her brothers walk up to the front door.

She loves them, and they’re the closest thing to family that she has, but… they're just so irritating.

“Ay, yo, Salvaterre! Where you at?”

Lorcan pauses her music and walks into the living room, clicking her tongue, “Take your shoes off, you animals.”

They all dutifully take their shoes off and stack them to the side. Fenrys bounds over, his afro bouncing. “Hey, man, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Lorcan says, accepting the obligatory hug Fenrys traps her in. A reluctant smile appears on her face and she hugs him back, “How are you?”

“Same old, same old,” Fenrys replies, bouncing back and looking around. “So, where do you need us, boss?”

“Uh…” Lorcan thinks as she daps Rowan up. “I don’t know yet. The kitchen is done, so… any place, I guess.” Fenrys nods and sets off determinedly to the boxes taking up most of the living room space.

Connall claps Lorcan’s back as he passes, “I’ll supervise.”

“And I’ll super-supervise,” Rowan says, grinning widely when Connall and Fenrys squawk in offence.

“Oh, I see you just let anyone in your house, huh?”

Lorcan turns when she hears her cousin’s voice, sharing the same dry grin, “Yeah, you know Lee would kick my ass if I turned the strays away.”

Vaughan slings his arm around her shoulders and rests his head against hers. “How’d you convince her to leave?”

“Reason. And I sent G to stall her,” Lorcan says.

He snorts and soon they’re all unpacking boxes. Lorcan tells them to leave the bedroom and office boxes alone. The latter are Elide’s, and Lorcan knows that she’ll want to fix it just so. As for their bedroom, Lorcan wants to put it together with the woman she shares it with.

The sun has just begun to dip beneath the horizon when they’re finally finishing up. Lorcan stares at a picture of her and Elide, wondering if she should move it elsewhere.

“Lor? You ok?”

She snaps her head to the side. She forgot she was alone for a moment. “Yeah, I’m ok.” Lorcan looks around, her brows raising. Everything is unpacked. It looks like their home now. She smiles a rare smile, the one where both her dimples show. “It looks… incredible, guys. Thank you, this… it meant a lot, or whatever.” Her shoulders start to bunch up, tense. Lorcan has never been comfortable with praise or affection, but she tries. Elide makes it easier.

The boys mumble ‘You’re welcome’s, equally unused to it as she.

Rowan’s phone dings, so he pulls it out. When he sees the text Aelin sent him, he chuckles, “Apparently Aelin cannot stall Elide any longer. They’re on their way here, be here in… ten minutes.”

“Right, well, that’s our cue,” Connall says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’ll let you surprise your girl and stuff.”

Unwillingly, Lorcan feels her cheeks heat. As Fenrys walks out, he catches her blush and laughs, “Aww, she’s blushing. Who knew that Hellas’ heir had feelings?”

She reaches out and slaps him upside the head, “Yeah, keep pointing it out, Fen. We’ll see if I don’t beat your dumb ass.”

“Easy, easy,” Vaughan says, stepping between them and gesturing for Fenrys to leave as fast as he could. “Cool it, killer. We’re just saying that it’s, you know, it’s nice to see you like this.”

Lorcan steps back, her spitfire anger calmed. She lets a small smile show, “Thanks. It’s… it’s Elide.” Her smile grows softer and the boys laugh as they file out to their cars. Lorcan leans against the porch column, joking with them as they leave. “I’ll see you guys later.”

She waves and walks back inside, anxiously pacing in front of the door. Her phone rings and she snatches it out of her pocket, accepting the call before she sees who it is. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” Elide says. “I’m almost home. I’m so sorry you had to do everything alone, I saw Aelin and she needed to do a bunch of things.”

“Don’t worry about it. You had a good day, right?”

Elide sighs, “Yeah. Honestly, I’ve just been so caught up with the move and the wedding. It was nice to not think about any of it today.”

“I’m glad,” Lorcan says. “Are you going to be home soon? I miss you.”

Her fiancée laughs, “Needy, needy. I’ll be there soon. Love you, L.”

“Love you too, princess.” Lorcan pulls the phone away from her ear and ends the call. She sits down on one of the armchairs to wait and idly takes a book off of the nearest shelf. Flipping past the first few pages, Lorcan settles in and rests her chin on her fist.

Headlights shine through the front window and they’re nothing but a nuisance to her until she realises who it is. Lorcan puts the book back and stands, crossing to the front door. She opens the door as Elide climbs out of the truck, a bag of takeaway in her hand. She lofts it, smiling ruefully, “Will you forgive me for abandoning you today? I got you your favourite.”

Lorcan grins as Elide walks up the stone pathway. “I might.”

Elide steps onto the porch, “We can eat and then start unpacking the rest?” She doesn’t wait for Lorcan’s response before she walks past her and pushes the door open. “I– it’s all done. How is it all done?”

Lorcan follows her in and looks around proudly. “I might’ve asked Aelin to stall you. And I called in the cavalry.” She tucks Elide into her side, “They really are helpful when you tell them exactly what to do.”

Her fiancée laughs tearfully and puts their food down so she can walk around, her eyes bright. “This… this is exactly what I wanted.”

Elide spends the next half hour looking around and getting used to their new home. She pokes around the living room and the kitchen too, fawning over the seemingly thousands of potted plants they have.

Lorcan watches with an adoring expression, completely entranced by everything Elide does.

Spinning, Elide holds her hands out to Lorcan. “Come.”

As always, Lorcan does as Elide tells her and stands up from the table chair she was sitting on. Lorcan takes Elide’s hands and looks down at her, one brow arched, “What is it, Lee?” Without a word, Elide starts to swing and sway. Lorcan follows warily, still unsure what Elide is trying to do. “Princess…”

“Just dance with me, love,” Elide says.

Lorcan hums in understanding and lifts Elide’s hands to her shoulders. Hers loosely rest on Elide’s waist and Lorcan begins to dance, leading Elide around their cosy kitchen. Elide beams and presses herself forwards, her head tipped against Lorcan’s chest. Lorcan’s heart trips over itself and she bends her head to hide her smile in Elide’s dark hair. The bergamot shampoo she uses clings to the thick, rich tresses.

The only music is their soft feet padding and sliding across the colourfully tiled floor. Elide grins wildly when Lorcan spins her out. Her head tips back and the silver light of the moon washes over her ethereal face.

Lorcan’s breath catches in her throat. She wants to be consumed by Elide. In near reverence, Lorcan cups Elide’s face. She tilts it back, slowly marking every feature. “You…”

“What,” Elide laughs, her hands squeezing Lorcan’s waist.

“The moon looks just right right now,” Lorcan murmurs, delicately tracing the way the light slides over Elide.

Elide’s smile turns tender and loving. She takes Lorcan’s hand and silently leads them into the backyard. They sit on the cool grass, Elide leaned against Lorcan’s chest, sitting between her legs.

“So,” Lorcan begins, her lips brushing against the shell of Elide’s ear, “is it everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Elide shakes her head, “No. I’ve only ever wanted one thing. And I've already got it.”

“Oh, really? Care to tell me what it is?”

“You,” Elide says, simply. “A life with you, a home…”

“And now we have a home.”

“No,” she shakes her head and turns, kneeling between Lorcan’s spread legs. “Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“That you are my home.” Elide holds Lorcan’s face in her hands like the most rare of presents, “And you always have been.”

<3<3<3

an: all i want in life. is domestic elorcan.

@ladyverena @ladywitchling @mythicaitt @sassyhobbits @darklesmylove @julemmaes @letstakethedawn @cicada-bones @highladyofthegentry @darlinminds @nahthanks @sjmships @eyllweambassador @flamingveritas @adelzd-bookblr @somewhatdynamite @woollycat22 @firestarsandseneschals @the-regal-warrior @empress-ofbloodshed

#femslash february #fem!elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #fem!lorcan salvaterre #isa writes lesbian shit #nalgenewhore #i luv them. so much.

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