#the weeping monk fic

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Last Flames Burn Together

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Summary: You were one of the many Feys trying to seek refugee from the cleansings across the lands. When you finally find the carriages that smuggle Feys to Gramaire, safety seems closer than ever.

Notes: I would miss writing for this character way too much tbh. The summary is vague to avoid spoilers lol

Warnings: Violence, death, strong language. Spicy (?). No descriptive smut but spoken off.

Word Count: 7K

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The day after your Fey camp had been cleansed, you had began your search for them.

The carriages that led the Fey to the safety of Gramaire.

After trying to get information from locals at a village, it seemed near impossible to find out where these carriages picked up Feys who sought refugee.

It was difficult to know who to trust when in the village, you often listened in on conversations between Manbloods to hear if they spoke of the Fey or not. Very few did and not all of them spoke kindly of your people.

You followed those who did, hiding under the cover of your cloak until there was a good moment to seek a conversation.

And after two days in the village, a young couple told you that three carriages arrived in the village every few days just before the sun would rise.

The riders of these carriages where by most believed to be traders of herbs and spices, but their carriages had room for more than that.

And so you found yourself waiting outside, eyes and ears sharp to avoid detection by paladins.

Most of the villagers were still asleep, the rooster not even awake himself.

You clutched the cloak around you, shielding yourself from the morning’s frost.

The sound of hooves reached your ears, three carriages halted at a distance.

Spices and herbs were being off-loaded and handed to locals who traded their own wares for it.

With fear and hope you approached and walked passed the first carriage, the rider of the carriage in the middle was the only one not loading off wares.

Perhaps what he had with him were not wares…

He had seen you approach him and simply asked “Going anywhere, miss ?”

Your tongue was braver than how you felt “Depends. Where are you heading with your wares, sir ?”

There was a slight tug at the corner of his mouth “Gramaire. And you ?”

You gave a nod, hoping to receive a sign that he would help you get there too.

The rider shared a knowing look “Hop in.”

With a grateful nod, you went to the carriage door, it was locked from the inside and after knocking, the door opened to reveal three Feys already present inside.

A Snake clan woman, a Tusk and Sky Folk man met your face.

After seating yourself next to the Tusk man, you closed and locked the carriage door again.

All three smiled at you warmly, everyone there was hoping for the same thing, to find safety.

There was quiet chitchat between you while the carriages traveled through the forest to Gramaire.

The woman told you that in the other carriages there were even more Feys, at least fifteen were accounted for between the three carriages.

The riders would stop in one more village tonight to see if there were more Feys who needed a ride, so the carriage you were in would probably not remain as ‘empty’.

The Sky Man asked about your family, you informed him that your mother had been Sky Folk and that neither of your parents had survived the Red Paladin’s invasion years ago.

He apologized for his questioning, you waved the apology away, he had not been the first to ask.

When the carriage halted, all four of you waited for other Feys to get into the carriage.

The windows were covered and you could not see outside, or see where you were.

You would never forget that moment of calmness before it was taken away so abruptly.

Shouting was heard coming from outside, the rider was answering to someone.

Then the carriage suddenly moved forward, the horses were spurred into gallop and you and the Tusk Man nearly fell from your seats.

The carriage stopped just as abruptly again mere seconds later.

It was then that the chaos started, the sound of panicking horses and a fight breaking out told that this carriage was no longer safe.

The Sky Man looked behind the window’s cover and saw other Fey running for their lives “It’s the paladins ! They killed the rider !”

That was all that need to be said for those in your carriage to open the door and try to flee as well.

Of course you got out, but the brutality around you was causing a panic all around.

Left and right, your people were being captured and killed.

With no idea on where to run or what to do, you got low and crawled under the carriage to hide and await a better moment to escape.

Some were able to flee into the woods, others perished at the hands of the paladins.

The sound of steel cutting through skin was one you hated to hear.

Close to your left, a Moon Wing laid on the grass, gasping for air.

A slow death, until…

A sword was sunk into the Moon Wing’s chest, ending their suffering, then removed again.

A pair of boots walked by and you pressed your mouth shut, barely daring to breath.

A paladin approached “Some fled into the woods, Brother.”

The man wearing the boots commanded “Find them.”

The paladin rushed off with some of the other red bastards to hunt down those who had fled.

The boots walked past the carriage you were under and towards the other carriages. Only when they reached the furthest carriage did you see who owned them.

The Weeping Monk was commanding the paladins.

Oh no…

You had to get out of there before the bastard found you.

A quick glance around the place and you saw a horse nearby.

If they found you, you would meet a gruesome end.

If you escaped… if there was still a chance to survive…you had to take it.

You quietly crawled to the other side, got from under there and hid behind the carriage.

After risking a look or two past the carriage, you scrambled together all your courage and darted for the horse.

Before reaching it, you nearly tripped over the remains of the Sky Man you had been talking to just minutes ago.

The shouting of paladins alerted you that they had spotted you. Without looking in their direction, you mounted the horse.

When you rode off, a paladin took aim with a bow and you feared being struck by the arrow.

The Monk pushed against the bow right when the arrow was let loose “Hold!”

It could have killed Goliath. He watched the arrow scrape the horse’s hind leg.

This could not be happening, a Fey girl had just stolen his own horse!

   You did not stop and galloped through the woods as fast as the horse could go.

And fast the black steed was.

An hour had past before the horse showed signs of being tired, you continued in a walking pace for a while before finally dismounting.

Only then did you notice the blood on the horse’s hind leg. It immediately caused a feeling of guilt in you, the poor animal had been wounded.

After tying his reins to a tree, you searched around the place for the basic herbs needed to treat the wound.

Luckily you found them and put them on a large fallen leaf you had found.

Then you tore off your sleeves to make a bandage to bind the mixture of herbs to the wound.

You also found a collection of weapons on the saddle. An axe, a knife, a dagger or two. There was even rope to be found.

It was amazing how calm the horse was. Could it sense that you meant no harm ?

After an hour of treating the wound, you let the horse rest and walked beside him instead.

You walked for hours, unwilling to stop before the sun was down out of fear that the paladins might find you again.

Needless to say, by the time night fell, you were exhausted.

A single flask of water was found in the saddle bag of the horse, which you took and filled at a river you took camp next to.

The horse drank from the river for quite some time, he must have been quite thirsty after all that effort.

You petted the steed’s neck, even finding yourself talking to him “It’s going to be alright. I promise. I’m sorry your leg hurts, I’ll help you get better, I swear it.”

Often he looked back at you as if you were somewhat familiar to him.

For the first time since long, a genuine warm smile grew “How did you end up with those red drapes, hm ? Did they steal you ? I bet they did.”

As you spoke to the horse, you did not realize it’s original rider was close enough to hear.

From the shadows of the trees behind you, a figure emerged “I bought him. Unlike you.”

Turning on your heels, the darkness of night cloaked the man who spoke.

Still, the outline of his form was enough to determine who had found you now.

There was an attempt to mount the horse again, it failed miserably when he grabbed and made you fall on your back to the ground.

The lack of light made this so much more frightening, you doubted even he could see much.

A kick was aimed at his leg by you, in return he grabbed your arm and roughly pulled you from the ground.

Your forehead collided hard with his chin, punishing him for it.

Still he refused to let go, his grasp faltering only a bit, but not enough to break free.

And you refused to be killed without a fight.

A punch was the next thing you gave, he responded by slamming your back against an oak tree, pinning you to it by the throat.

At the sound of steel being drawn, your will to fight almost left you.

And then…nothing.

The Monk had halted his fight, but you could sense that the sword was near your stomach.

The light of the moon was on the oak tree and made your face visible to his eyes.

Those markings… it could not be.

A cloud moved out of the moon’s way and for the first time in your life, you saw the face of the Grey Monk.

After all this time, you finally understood why so many had questions about your family.

The memories of your father were slowly fading, but you could never forget the markings of the Ash Folk he had carried beneath his eyes.

And now you were faced with the Weeping Monk who had them too.

It could not be…

Your markings were far less noticeable and lighter of color than his own, but they were there.

He had never seen another like him, not as far as he could still remember.

He stared at you as much as you stared at him.

It had always been believed that the Ash Folk were extinct, and now here you were.

You couldn’t hide your shock “Your eyes…”

The recognition was unmistakable, you knew he was of Fey descent.

By the moonlight’s help, he discovered not just your Fey markings but also that your sleeves had been torn from your attire.

One look at Goliath explained where they were now.

There was no point in running, if he was indeed like your father a full blooded Ash Man, he would be able to track you down just by your scent.

Father would want to know of your existence.

Even he himself was curious whether a woman of the Ash Folk had the same abilities as him. Father had not been happy with his failure to capture the Wolf Blood Witch, this would certainly please him.

The Monk had his sights on your markings “What are you ?”

When you didn’t answer he brought the sword to your throat, only than did you speak “I am Sky Folk, you rotten bastard !”

There was an arrogant arch of his brow aimed at that answer “What else ?”

You spat in his face in return “Not a traitor like you !”

There was so much fight burning in you.

He did not flinch when the saliva drops hit his face “But you are a thief.”

You were pulled away from the tree, sword still resting against your throat when he led you to the horse.

His horse.

Instead of killing you, he bound your hands with the rope that had been hanging from the saddle.

When that was done, he inspected the bandaged hind leg of the horse “Did you do this ?”

The answer was sharp “Do you see anyone else here ?”

For someone bound by rope and at his mercy, you were behaving quiet brave.

The Monk send you a look, pulling you back to his side when still feeling you try to get away “Answer my question.”

A jab in his side with your elbow followed and he wrapped his hand around your throat again.

He repeated the question while also gesturing to the black steed “Did you do this ?”

Your nails dug into his wrist “Yes !”

Finally he let go off your throat and proceeded to drag you along to fetch the horse he had used to find you.

He bound the reins of the white horse to the black one. Then tied the other end of your rope to the saddle of his horse.

Wait… was he going to let you walk after him ?!? Why wasn’t he killing you ?

He must have seen the angry glare you were sending him, because he proposed an agreement “I am taking you with me. Either you come willingly, or I will pull you along while you walk. What shall it be ?”

A loud scoff was what his absurd question earned him “Willingly ?!?”

He took that as a ‘no’ and went to mount Goliath.

After walking the whole damned day already, your feet were hurting and now this monk was going to pull you along while he rode the horse.

Fantastic, this day could not get worse.

You were far too stubborn to ask and just tried to hide your pouting at the prospect of having to walk who-knows-where again.

He rode for a short distance, leaving you to follow or be dragged along by the rope, before suddenly stopping again.

You swore you’d heard him sigh, like he was the one who had a reason to be annoyed.

There was a tug at the rope and soon you found yourself being reeled in towards him.

When he looked down upon your face, the Monk received the unyielding glare reserved only for him.

He looked up ahead, eyes on the trees, it sounded like it took some effort “I will ride for the rest of the night. Unless you decide to cooperate.”

Your stubbornness persisted “Or you could just kill me and drag my corpse along. I think it would be faster, I might not be rotting by the time you arrive at your destination.”

The bluntness of that statement made him look at you again.

His mouth opened and then closed in a thin line again.

This time he did not look away from you “Father will want to see you alive.”

That power hungry red priest ? What would he want with you “Why ?”

He refused to answer your question “I am offering one more chance for you to come willingly. Choose wisely.”

A silence fell between you.

You gravely disliked having to yield to him, but you also disliked how tired your legs were “Are you going to drape me over your horse like a sack if I say yes ?”

The tug at his mouth was hidden when he looked away “If you prefer.”

That didn’t sound appealing in the slightest and you stubbornly stood your ground.

Then you felt him tug at the rope again, pulling it up and with that your bound hands as well.

The Monk took hold of one your wrists “Come on. Up.”

The moment you did get on the horse and were seated in front of him, a dagger was drawn and held close to your side.

A warning was given by him while leaning in “Try to escape, and I will hurt you.”

You dared to glare back, biting the insult at him “Bastard.”

He leaned back again, expression unreadable.

Without warning he spurred the horse into gallop and so began the journey to Father Carden.

  ooOOOooOOOoooOOOoo

  All those rotten paladins, who were still awake, were gawking in your direction when the Monk arrived with you in their camp.

He dismounted first, then surprisingly helped you get off of the horse too.

Your attention went to his hands and how they restlessly fumbled with the rope he was leading you along with.

Upon arriving at a large tent, the Monk walked in.

There you were faced with the priest who was causing so much suffering across the lands.

Father Carden had been speaking with some older paladins, his focus went to the Monk before it went to you “What is this ?”

The Monk took you by the arm and moved you forward.

All those years ago, Father must have seen enough markings of the Ash Folk clan to see the resemblance with yours.

Father Carden dismissed the paladins “Leave us.”

They hurried passed you out of the tent and the priest approached while staring at you.

There was joy on his face “Where did you find this girl, my son.”

The Monk left out some parts of it “In one of the carriages that were smuggling Fey.”

“Is she what I think she is ?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Are you sure ?”

“Yes, Father. She is of the Ash Folk.”

You were left very confused as to why this seemed to make the priest happy.

But the priest had good reason to be pleased with your existence. Years ago he had chosen only one child of the Ash Folk and regretted not choosing another.

His Weeping Monk had become his sword of light, if he had known this in the past he surely would have left more children of the Ash Folk alive to raise for serving the Church’s mission.

Father Carden saw a rare opportunity, his Weeping Monk and a girl, perhaps it was not too late to rectify the lack of Ash Folk offspring to serve the Church.

The priest went over to the Monk and placed his hands on the Monk’s shoulders “You have done well, My son.”

He had not seen Father look so pleased in weeks.

Still, he did not know what would be expected now “What must be done with her, Father.”

Father Carden was already planning everything in his mind “She will be brought to the monastery where she will be kept under watch. There they will make sure that our newest hope does not flee.”

You didn’t know what to think and questioned out loud “What do you mean with ‘hope’ ?”

The priest smiled wickedly “We have many plans for you, girl.”

It had sounded so patronizing “Girl ? I have a name !”

Hearing you snap at him wiped that stupid grimace from his face.

He looked at the Monk expectantly, who had no idea what your name was either.

He had not asked, it was not common to ask for the names of those he captured or killed, it would make matters more personal than needed be.

Father Carden did not show genuine interest “Who are you then ?”

You arched a brow, a smug smirk plastered on your face.

It was only when the Monk gave a warning nudge to your arm that you told them what your name was “It’s y/n. Now tell me why I am being held captive !”

The defiance was met with a threat by the priest “You will understand soon. You would do well to do what is asked off you, it could become very unpleasant for you otherwise.”

Red Paladins were called into the tent again and the Monk was told to hand you over to them.

Why was it giving him the feeling that something about all of this was wrong ?

What was Father not telling him ?

The command was given by the priest “Take her away. She will travel to the monastery early tomorrow.”

They weren’t gentle when they pulled you out of the tent, the last thing you saw of the Monk were those weeping eyes that carried a hint of remorse that you believed to be only in your imagination.

He turned to Father after you were removed from the tent “Why is the girl being brought to the monastery, Father ?”

Hope… that was what Father had called you.

But why ?

He knew Father had always wanted to know whether other Ash Folk still existed or not, but why was he so pleased about it ? Was the cleansing of all Fey clans not the ultimate goal ?

He had believed Father would interrogate you further at least, perhaps he would have learned more of his heritage as well.

But that did not seem to be Father’s plan for you.

Father knew his monk would have question “We have important matters to discuss, my son.”

   oooOOoOOOoOoooOOo

  You had tried to escape countless times, but Father Carden had made certain that fleeing was impossible.

The door of the room was constantly guarded outside, the window was nailed shut from the outside too. The only light in the bland room was those of candles placed around the place.

For the tenth day after being brought to their musty monastery, you sat on the floor next to the bed and played with the fire of one of the candles.

Many years ago you had done the same with green flames, Fey Fire.

After the slaughter of your clan, the Fey Fire had vanished alongside it, like one could not existed without the other. Tales spoke of one remaining green flame, but no one knew where to find it.

It would burn as long as there is hope.

If it truly was just a rumor, than hope was long lost for the Fey.

But that did not mean that they would not continue their fight until the bitter end.

If the Church wanted to control these lands, they would have to bring everything to the war they had started.

Perhaps that one flame would fade when the last of the Ash Folk did too.

You let the candle fire lick your fingertips, feeling only a tingling sensation as the flame turned into tiny ashes before it could even touch your skin.

Fire had no power over your clan, you turned the flames into ashes.

The place was boring and you still did not understand what they wanted with you.

Every morning you were brought a bucket of water to clean yourself with and during the day you received meals.

It was odd.

Why did they bother keeping you alive ? Why were you important ?

The sound of the door unlocking no longer fazed you, your attention never left the flame.

Boots hit the wooden floorboards, only taking a few steps into the room before the door was closed again.

Little by little, you lifted your eyes from the flame and met those of the Monk “Are you finally here to kill me or are they waiting for me to be bored to death ?”

Ten days had past since he last saw you, ten full days and you had remained just as angry at him.

It was impressive.

It had taken him so long to collect the courage to come here. He had tried to avoid it, but Father would no longer listen to excuses.

He stepped closer, dropping his sights to the flame that always threatened but never burned your skin “You are too valuable to kill, y/n.”

Your attention left the flame and you rose from the ground “Valuable ? To whom ?”

The Monk stated the truth “To your clan.”

A bitter laugh escaped you “The Ash Folk are gone, Monk. We’re the only ones left.”

Again he took a step closer “And that is what makes you so valuable.”

You could just sense that he was dancing around the truth “Why the hell are you here ?”

He began with confidence “Father has decided…” and lost it when finishing the sentence “…that to ensure the continuation of the Ash Folk, we shall be wed.”

Did…

Did he just…

With a large step, you backed away from him “What did you just say ?!?”

This was as shocking and difficult to him as it was to you. He did not even know you.

But Father was demanding this and refusing would cost him everything he had fought for, including the respect of Father.

He need to do what was necessary and serve the Church.

The Monk tried to step closer again but you looked seconds away from trying to flee “We are a chance to prevent your clan from going extinct.”

For a moment you just felt rooted to the floor, this was why they were keeping you here…

You were so shocked to hear it that you didn’t fully register him getting closer again.

He actually took the risk and placed a hand tentatively on your shoulder.

You recoiled from the touch and pushed him away roughly, then bolted for the door in the hope that it was unlocked.

It was not, the door did not budge.

For the first time since long, tears streamed down your face at the prospect of being forced to marry this monk.

You kept pulling at the door with all your strength, desperate to flee, screaming for those outside to let you out off there.

Suddenly two arms locked you in their hold, ending your attempts.

Of course you tried to break free of the Monk’s hold on you “Let go off me !!! LET GO !”

His grip did not loosen and it was terribly unexpected when he proceeded to hush you “Do not be afraid. I will not harm you.”

The jab you gave him in the side with your elbow made him groan in pain.

Was this the woman who was to be his wife ?

After struggling against him for more than a minute, you started to lose the energy.

He gave it another try to calm you down, voice close to your ear “You do not have to fight, not with me.”

How could he sound so calming to you ?

You were more than a little bitter “The vow of celibacy is forgotten quickly, it seems. The Church bends the rules when they do not fit their purpose. You’re just going to use me like a brood mare.”

He hated the description “That is what Father wishes. Not I.”

You were trying to piece together the truth about it all “What do you want then ?”

Again he risked to caress your shoulder “I cannot refuse to wed you. But I can promise not to share your bed, as long as you do not tell anyone, no one will know.”

You tried to convince him, calmer this time “Please, let go off me.”

This time he did, he even took a small step back to give you space.

Turning quickly, you faced him again “I don’t even know your name. All I know is that they call you the ‘Weeping Monk’. And that you are like me, my clan…”

It took a while for him to speak “A long time ago, my name was Lancelot. I was brought to Father, when I was a child. I was spared from the cleansing and in return I serve those who have granted me a chance to earn salvation.”

He had been stolen from your clan when he was a child ?

You weren’t going to make it sound like this was not a terrible thing “They stole you from our people. And now they are doing the same with me.” there was a bitter scoff “Are they going to twist my mind about the Fey too ?”

The Monk remained quiet and began to walk around the room a bit.

It was obvious that he was not very willing to speak of the matter. So you decided to ask him another question “Why does Father Carden want more Ash Folk ?”

He parroted the words Father had told him “Their abilities would help the Church’s mission.”

It came out sharp “Our children would be weapons, like you !”

It silenced him like a knife to the heart.

‘Like you’…

It was the cold hard truth.

All he prayed for was the chance to raise any children he might have with the love of a Father that he had not received himself.

This was his duty, the personal task Father had bestowed on him, there was no escaping it.

Not unless he lost everything in return.

But that did not mean that his children would be treated as he had been.

He leaned against the wall “You are the first Ash Folk I have seen since the cleansing that brought me to Father. A child of Sky and Ash…” carefully he breached the subject “If we were to indeed have children, we would no longer be the last of our kind. Is that not something you would want ?”

You gave a jab to his ego and confidence “You believe your seed is strong enough to ensure any children would be Ash Folk and not Sky Folk ?”

Right away, he averted his eyes.

Such manner of speaking was not something he was used to.

His voice was quieter “My parents were full blooded.”

Alright…if that was indeed the case then any children he produced would be born with the Ash Folk markings and abilities.

The blood of the Ash Folk ran stronger than any other clan.

With arms crossed over your chest, you spoke “If this wedding is unavoidable, so be it. But I won’t let you anywhere near my bed. Find someone else to carry your children.”

There was a shallow nod “Can I expect you to be discreet with this ? I cannot stop this union, but I can ignore to tell Father that a consummation will not take place. You will be safe and I will have nothing to answer for.”

An agreement that benefited both. You had your life and he would not be bothered by the Red Priest.

In time, if patient, a chance to flee would arise again.

Smugly you promised “You have my word. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them we are very eagerly trying to conceive.”

Again the Monk looked quite stunned by your brash way of speaking.

He cleared his throat and headed for the door “The ceremony takes place tomorrow evening. I shall be here again.”

You saw him look at you as if he expected a goodbye, instead you turned around and ignored him.

The door quietly closed and you heard it be locked again.

Tomorrow everything would change, but if you played along, things could be turned to your advantage.

   oOOoOOOoOooOOooOOo

   The hasty wedding ceremony could not be called ‘romantic’ at all. You were made to wear a dress that was too long and dragged over the floor. Gods, you missed your comfortable trousers fit for running when needed. There was the usual vows that they just forced you to repeat after them.

Then, when they required the ceremony to be sealed with a kiss, the two paladins holding you by the arms shoved you right in front of the Monk.

Your neutral expression changed and became one of anxiousness.

And when you finally looked at his face, you saw the same.

This had to be done…

The wait felt long, the Monk appeared far more anxious about this than you.

It made you feel pity for him, it was starting to become clear that he was forced into this too.

He was the Weeping Monk, but he was also Fey and one of the last two of your clan…

Perhaps there could be a way to bond with him over this whole ordeal.

He was still hesitating to seal the ceremony and you asked the paladins, politely for once, to let go off your arms.

Of course they refused, but the Monk gave it a moment of thought and then commanded them to let go.

For the first time in days you were not being restraint by paladins or a locked room.

And by The Hidden, the pity you felt for the man in front of you was what stopped you from running.

When you took another step closer to him, the paladins got ready to grab you again, which he prevented with one simple look.

You placed your hands on the Monk’s shoulders, pulling at them somewhat to steer him.

It was meant to be a quick peck to seal the ordeal, but when your lips touched his…

What was it that made him give in to it ?…

Was it when your breath warmed his lips ?

Or when you held on to his shoulders more ?

He only came back to his senses when he could feel his markings threaten to respond to the kiss that he did not expect to want.

With a hand on your elbow, he moved you backwards.

The seal was given.

Your gaze did not leave the floor again until the ceremony was completely over.

Again the paladins took hold of you and made certain you would not run.

Father Carden showed himself only to speak to the Monk, briefly telling him again what was expected of him no doubt.

The talking paladins around you made it impossible to overhear them, all you saw was that the Monk avoided looking at the priest.

Shame… there was shame.

You were walked back to the room you had spend days in already, only when almost at the room did the Monk catch up with the paladins escorting you.

At the sight of him and his signal, they handed you over to him.

With a nod from the Monk, they opened the door for you and he let you walk into the room first.

Only when the door was shut behind you again did he let go off your arm.

Creating a distance between you and him was the first thing you did.

There was a reason why he was with you in the room now.

You confronted him “He expects you to bed me. Doesn’t he ?”

It was what Father had indeed told him to do.

The Monk sounded honest “He does. I do not.”

You moved one of the candles in the room “If I tell you to leave. They’ll know nothing happened or think that you are just…quick.”

For the first time, there was a scoff that sounded like a chuckle “It would be best for both of us if we act the part. Allow me to stay for a while ?”

With a gesture around you, you told him “Make yourself at home, oh wait… this is your home, is it not ?”

Again he ignored the sarcasm.

You sat down on your bed, barely hiding the pout “I’d always thought that my wedding would be something very different.”

He shared that opinion “What would it have been like, if you could have chosen ?”

With a shrug of the shoulders, you admitted “I don’t know… I had hoped it would be romantic at least. Not this.”

Romantic ? It was a fair expectation to have.

The Monk picked a candle up from the floor, the one you had been playing with yesterday.

He stopped in front of you, then with caution, took place next to you.

You didn’t move away and he turned a bit to face you.

The candle was held out for you, the flame offered.

The Monk shared a look with you and you brought your fingertips to the flame while he held the candle still.

The small ashes, that were born from the flame touching your skin, twirled down unto his hand.

It fascinated him to see another, an Ash Woman, play with the flame.

His expression had softened, tone lighter “The Ash Folk and fire, one could never separate them.”

You pulled your hand back abruptly, this was giving you the feeling that he was trying to gain your favor “Unlike you, I don’t use it to burn the world to the ground.

He rose to his feet and placed the candle on the bedside table.

It had hit a nerve in him, the bitter response fell “I never would have chosen someone like you as a wife.”

With equal disdain, you stood up and threw the words in his face “You can’t handle a woman like me, you arrogant bastard !”

You found yourself pulled against his chest, grabbed by the throat and kissed like he intended to prove you wrong.

He never would have chosen someone like you, but now that he had a fiery wife who was not afraid to speak her mind…

It was exciting and so different than he was used to.

You felt drawn into the kiss, drawn to this arrogant bastard who continued to get on your nerves.

As a last attempt to spare yourself from the trouble it could bring, you broke free and slapped him across the face.

For a second his attention was fixed on the ground, then slowly it rose to your face again.

Even after that slap, you could detect a certain look in his eyes that you undoubtedly had in yours too.

Expectation…

Who were you trying to fool ?

You were back against him not a blink of an eye later, hands grasping at his shoulders and neck to hold him close.

Never before had you kissed someone with such demand, it was his fault you were here and you wished for something in return.

The blood of the Ash Folk ran through both of you, you had not expected someone like him to still grow and have the characteristics of them.

Arrogant, clever, stubborn and…passionate.

That heightened sense of smell was known to have lead many Ash Men to their significant other.

‘They’re hard to resist’ is what your mother had told you about meeting your father. Gods, she had been right.

When you began to try and undress him, it startled him greatly.

You boldly took his hands and gave him a clear signal that he could do the same with you.

Only when you kissed him again and pleadingly called him by his name did he start to do so.

Not much later you ended up back on the bed with him hovering above you.

Your wedding had been boring, your wedding night would not be.

  oOoOoOOOooOoOoOoOOOoOoo

  By morning you were awake and dressed in your own attire again. In the heat of the moment, this Ash Man had confessed to be inexperienced, something you had barely noticed.

You stood beside the bed, he was still vast asleep. For a moment you knelt down and placed a hand over his.

He had been tender and caring, it had been mixed with a burning passion that left you a moaning mess in his hands.

It was lovely.

If only the circumstances had been different…

You rose to your feet and took the sword from the ground that had been hastily taken off and tossed aside the night before.

After a look over your shoulder at him, you walked back over to your sleeping spouse and placed a soft kiss to his temple.

You would miss those eyes…

  ooOOooOoOooOoOoOOo

  When Lancelot woke up that morning, he woke up to the fading of your scent.

His sword was gone and the two paladins guarding the door had been killed, it was not hard to understand what had happened.

Of course he was disappointed, had last night meant nothing to you ?

He refused to believe that it had all been part of a plan of yours to be able to flee.

The way you had embraced him, kissed him and moaned his name into his mouth…

And he was alive, it would have been easy for you to kill him if you had wanted to do so.

A paladin approached him the moment he set foot outside the monastery, he barely dared to look at him “Brother…your horse is gone.”

Why did it not surprise him ?

The paladin was dismissed and looked rather relieved by it.

He could not be angry, not after last night.

Maybe he was even a little impressed by your will to fight and reclaim your freedom.

Father had heard the news and came to speak to him “The girl has fled.”

Those weeping eyes were fixed on the grass “She did so while I still slept. Forgive me, Father.”

Father did not look pleased in the slightest “Did you at least fulfill your task with her ?”

He felt his cheeks burn when understanding what was asked “Yes, Father.”

Though, he had not done it to fulfill a task.

But now there was a chance that you were with child, his child, and he might never see you again.

Father was not as disappointed, there was still hope “We’ll find the girl.”

The Monk risked asking “Let me search for her, Father.”

The priest agreed “Very well. Find her and bring her back. She belongs to the Church now.”

After he gave a respectful inclination of the head, Father walked away from him.

He had lost and gained so much in a single evening and night.

He went to bed with his wife and woke up without her, without his sword and without his horse.

An actual chuckle left him, at least you would keep him entertained.

It made him all the more eager to pursue the girl who became his wife and who had stolen not just his horse and sword but also a piece of his heart.

Taglist:

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

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

#weeping monk #weeping monk reader #the weeping monk x reader #the weeping monk fic #weeping monk fanfiction #theweepingmonk #the weeping monk #lancelot x reader #lancelot #lancelot/reader #reader x lancelot #Cursed Netflix #cursed #netflix cursed #cursed lancelot #you x lancelot #you x weeping monk #reader x weeping monk #daniel sharman character

[talesofthehollow]

So it's been some time since we had an update, but I thought it would be nice to take a moment to thank @allgirlsareprincesses for A Song of Ash & Sky. Looking back at my moodboards, I'm forever grateful to your words that inspired them.

Merry Xmas & Happy Holidays, everyone! ❤❤❤

#cursed #cursed netflix #nimue #lady of the lake #weeping monk #lancelot #nimue x weeping monk #nimue x lancelot #nimulot #born in the dawn/to pass in the twilight #with water/with fire #ASoA+S #fic reccs #moodboard #edits #claudie!screeches #happy holidays ❄ #merry xmas 🎄

[allgirlsareprincesses]

A Song of Ash and Sky - A Cursed Fanfic

Chapter 21 - Betrothal and Betrayal

Nimue shares her plan to marry Arthur in a desperate gamble to take the crown and save the Fey. But her true desires are not so easily dismissed.

“Tell me that kiss meant nothing” he whispered across her lips. “Tell me, and I will go.”

Nimue heard her breath coming in short gasps.

He leaned closer, his voice now only a growl in his throat. “Tell me.”

~~~~~~

FINALLY some smut for y’all. This is the first time I’ve ever attempted to write it, so I hope I did okay!

Thank you for sticking with me thus far as I drag these angsty babies toward their Happily Ever After!

#nimulot #nimulot fic #nimulot fanfic #nimulot fanfiction #cursed #cursed netflix #cursed fic #cursed fanfic #cursed fanfiction #nimue x lancelot #nimue x weeping monk #lancelot x nimue #weeping monk x nimue #weeping monk #Lancelot cursed #nimue cursed #cursed nimue #cursed lancelot #red spear #cursed arthur #kissing #a song of ash and sky #enemies to lovers #long fic #lady of the lake #fey queen #king arthur #arthuriana #arthurian legend

[aceofwhump]

Day 13: Share a sneak peek of something you’re working on

Once again I am taking the opportunity to share bits from my Cursed fanfiction that is taking me forever to finish but it is actually closed to being to done! I'm a bit blocked at the moment with my ending chapter so progress has been slow. I'm just so psyched about this fic and eager to share it all with you. So here's another larger bit from the story. A nice little torture scene for you all to enjoy :) I haven't shared this part yet (I don't think I have) but I'm in love with it.

tw: torture via cuts, burns, and whipping

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

Lancelot swallowed thickly as he tried not to show any emotions or reaction. Any kind of reaction, a show of fear, that’s just what they wanted and he’d rather be killed than give them the satisfaction. 

Brother Salt laid out his torture implements carefully and diliberatley, each tool laid on his table with care and precision, before picking one up and gazing at Lancelot with a wicked smile.

“Now, shall we begin?” 

The torture went on for hours, days. 'Brother Salt' was well trained, almost as talented as his predecessor. He knew exactly how to bring out the most amount of pain within his captive without killing them. Lancelot’s only respite was when his body finally gave out on him and the darkness claimed him but when he woke up again, be given water and bread, an hour or two of rest, and then it would all start up again.

The sessions would vary in implements and techniques but he’d always be dragged to the middle of the room and have his wrists shackled to the chain falling from the ceiling. Laid out and bare in front of the torturer, he’d close his eyes and await his fate.

A steel blade was dragged slowly across his skin, splitting open the skin painfully and leaving small trails of blood. Dozens and dozens of cuts across his chest and arms. Not deep enough to cause serious harm but they burned and irritated and eventually his whole body ached with pain.

A whip was taken to his back. The leather bit into his skin and caused old and new welts to form. Blood flowed from the large gashes that the whipped carved out. Lancelot locked his jaw, determined not to scream or make any noise indicating pain. Thankfully he had years of practice at it. Another crack of the leather and pain exploded across his back.

The pain was excruciating. Multiple times Lancelot had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from screaming. Sweat dripped down his body, mingling with the blood. His hands gripped the chains holding him up in a desperate attempt to focus his mind.

All the while, 'Brother Salt' repeated the same things over and over again.

“You are a monster. Born of creatures damned by the Lord.” 

“Worthless.” 

“A sinner.” 

“Damned.” 

“The Fey despise you for everything you are.” 

“The Paladins accept you. This is where you belong.” 

“We can bring you salvation.” 

“The pain brings salvation.” 

Lancelot tried to ignore the words. He’d been through pain before, he knew pain intimately, but it wasn't easy to ignore the things being said that, deep in his heart, he still believed. Every day he grew weaker and felt his walls tumbling down in a wave of pain and blood.

He tried to focus on his time with the Fey during these sessions with Brother Salt, to remember the things they told him and how they treated him.

He thought about Squirrel and how quickly the boy accepted him and defended him. How he had taken up a sword in his defense several times. His first real friend.

He thought about Pym who, even though she was afraid at first, had invited him to work with her, brought him food when he forgot to eat and casually teased him like they were friends.

He thought of Kaze and their sparring sessions and how at ease and challenged he felt when their blades clashed.

He thought of all the Fey children who trailed after him as he completed his chores. None of them seemed afraid of him. No sign of hatred or fear as they begged him to tell them stories or play with them.

But most of all, he thought of Gawain. He thought of his kind smile and his never ending patience. He thought of his strength and his skills with a sword. He thought of his ability to make him feel safe and cared for. He thought of the night Gawain had stayed by his side after a particularly horrible nightmare and how Lancelot had managed to fall asleep again for the first time in months. He thought about how grieved Gawain would be if Lancelot gave in.

When the pain cascaded and drowned out the voices and memories, he honed his focus to the pain in his wrists from the iron that reminded him he is Fey and that all Fey are brothers but the words etched into his mind tell him that meant he was damned and was not a good thing.

The days passed by him. Every day the same thing. Abbot Wicklow would come to him and say the same things. That he was a damned soul that could only be saved by fighting for the Paladin Army again. That he will never truly belong with the Fey. That the Fey will never forgive his sins but the Paladins can.

When Lancelot ignored him, Wicklow would send in his interrogator and Lancelot would be strung up and tortured for hours at a time, told that if he succumbed and returned to his proper place then the pain would end and he would be welcomed back with open arms.

Every day, he would curl up on the floor of his cell and try to remember what Gawain had taught him.

Every day, he lost a little bit of his fight to the unrelenting pain and confusion.

Every day, he passed out wondering if he was damned to be in this hell for all of eternity.

Every day, he wondered if this was what he truly deserved.

#whumpmasinjuly #wij2022 #whumpmas in july #ace writes stuff #mod post #my writing #cursed #cursed netflix #the weeping monk #my cursed fic #torture #god i'm so excited to share this fic you guys #jeez gotta get through this stupid block #i gotta crack down and finish it already

[owmyeyeballs]

Batstarion Fic

I had to. Batstarion is too adorable for words. He's still a spawn in this fic, because I say so. Tav is Silence, my tiefling monk, and she's so done with her adorable weird vampire

It’s probably nothing. Of course it’s nothing. He’ll show up any minute. He’s fine, everything will be fine… Silence had been pacing so long, she wondered she hadn’t worn out the Elfsong’s shiny floorboards. Astarion was missing. Astarion had been missing for hours. Usually at this time of day he would be lounging at her side, reading a book and cradling a glass of wine. Ordinarily Silence wouldn’t have worried quite so much, but since the death of Cazador, Astarion had been a mess. Joyous one minute, on the verge of weeping the next, and through it all, extremely reluctant to leave Silence’s side.

He probably just needed some space. He’s probably just gone to track down some prey. He’s probably totally fine, and hasn’t fallen victim to a vengeful spawn, or a Bhaal-crazed murderer, or…

The door opened, and Silence turned in worried expectation, only to find Wyll regarding her sympathetically.

“Still no sign of our favourite bloodsucker, I take it?”

“Nothing. I should be out looking for him.”

Wyll came to stand by her, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You should be with the rest of us at the bar, relaxing. Astarion’s a grown man. There’s no sense worrying until we know for sure we have cause.”

“He’s barely been out of my sight since Cazador, and this city is dangerous, and…”

“And Astarion has two hundred years of experience navigating those dangers. I tell you what, if he’s still gone in another hour, I’ll join you, and we’ll go looking for him together. But until then, try to relax. I know Astarion’s been a little out of sorts since taking down Cazador. But so have you.”

Silence opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. In truth, Wyll was right. After coming so very close to losing her lover, she had barely relaxed once.

“… You may have a point.”

Wyll smiled warmly, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Try to relax. If you won’t join us downstairs, at least sit down for a while up here. Even with your light feet, we can hear you pacing your way through the floorboards!”

As he left her to rejoin the others, Silence took his advice, collapsing on her bed. The absence of Astarion laying beside her, holding her close, did little to ease her worries. Without the vampire to hug, she clutched a pillow to her chest instead.

“Where are you, Stars…”

Her eyes drifting aimlessly across the elegantly furnished room, until they came to rest on her alchemy bag. A thought darted across her mind, and she leapt to her feet once more, taking the bag and rifling through the contents, until at last her hand closed on the bottle she wanted.

“I mightn’t be able to sniff you out, but I know who can!”

Scratch had settled quite happily into the Elfsong, and had already become a familiar presence at the bar, delighting in being petted and fed treats by patrons in various stages of inebriation. Seeing Silence, his tail began to wag, and he loped across the room to meet her. The taste of the animal speaking potion still lingering on her tongue, Silence knelt to scratch behind his ears.

“Hope you’re keeping well, Mistress! You haven’t joined us tonight! You’re missing out! There’s been singing!”

“I’m well enough, but worried,” Silence replied. “And I think you might be able to help me. Do you think you can track someone for me?”

Scratch tilted his head, the wagging of his tail slowing a little.

“I think so… But is it Astarion you want me to track? That… Might be a problem.”

Silence felt her heart begin to race in fear.

“Why? What’s happened? Do you know something?”

“He’s alright, Mistress. Well, I think he’ll be alright. But he made me promise not to tell!”

Silence frowned.

“Not to tell me what? Please, Scratch. I’ve been worried sick!”

Scratch let out a low whine, and tilted his head again.

“I don’t know… He said he’d bite me if I told! But… He likes you so much. I don’t think he’d like you to be worried… That makes telling you alright, doesn’t it?”

“I think so! And don’t worry, I won’t let him bite!”

Scratch let out a sigh, his tail wagging once more.

“If you go back to your room, Mistress, I’ll bring him to you there.”

Giving Scratch one last pat, Silence rose to her feet, halfway between relieved and worried.

What in nine Hells have you gotten up to, Stars?

Silence didn’t have long to wait before finding out.  She had barely settled back onto her bed when she heard Scratch’s claws clicking merrily on the floorboards, and her lover’s voice raised in indignation.

“If you don’t drop me at once, you filthy hound, I’ll visit you tonight and drain every last drop of blood from you! Do you hear me? You miserable fleabag, I mean it!”

Scratch came bounding into the room, something white in his mouth. Something winged and flapping angrily, and yelling in Astarion’s voice as it was dropped at Silence’s feet. A bat. A white, fluffy, red-eyed bat.

“At last! Ugh, I’m covered in your slobber, you beast! I ought to…”

Red eyes looked up at Silence, and blinked.

“Ah. Darling. I… Suppose I ought to explain.”

Silence knelt, and scooped the bat – Astarion? – up off the floor. He flapped his wings clumsily, trying to get his balance, and clawed feet gripped at her hands. Torn between laughing and shouting in disbelief, she stroked her thumb over soft, fluffy white fur.

“You’re a bat.”

Astarion heaved a sigh, and shot a glare at Scratch.

“I’ll deal with you later, mongrel. Now, shoo!”

“Ignore him, Scratch. But you can go back and have fun with the others.”

Tail wagging and tongue lolling out happily, Scratch left. Astarion gave an annoyed huff and folded his wings. Or, attempted to. His control over them seemed to be somewhat lacking.

“Well. I suppose an explanation is in order. I found a book, you see. When we were looting Cazador’s palace. A book on vampires, and vampire spawn. Turns out the bastard was keeping even more from us than I realised!”

He waved a wing angrily, nearly falling from Silence’s hands. She quickly sat down on the bed, and set Astarion down on a cushion.

“Turns out I’m capable of more than I realised. All of us spawn are. Apparently Cazador didn’t want us to get any ideas… According to what I’ve read, I ought to be able to turn to mist, to walk upside down on ceilings, to… Well, to turn into a bat. It took some experimenting, but I figured it out! Only…”

Silence bit her lip to keep a laugh from bursting out.

“Only you can’t work out how to turn back?”

Astarion groaned, burying his head in his wing in embarrassment.

“More than that, I can’t even figure out how to make this useless form fly! I’m stuck as a winged rat, scrabbling around on the ground… Do you have any idea how many times I’ve nearly been stepped on? And the kitchen cats tried to make a meal of me! I had to beg that damned mutt for protection! And… Are you laughing? Is this funny to you?”

Unable to hold in in any longer, Silence let out a snort of laughter, and only laughed harder as the little white bat gave her what he clearly imagined to be a ferocious glare.

“I’ve been worried about you, you precious bastard! And all the time you were a cute little bat!”

She scooped him up again and pressed a kiss to his furry head, holding him up and taking in the long, twitching ears, the leaf-like nose, the sharp little teeth he revealed as he shouted.

“Will you take this seriously? Imagine what the others are going to say! The sheer indignity will kill me!”

“That’s what you get for skulking around and playing with powers you don’t know how to use! Now, where’s this book? We’ll see if we can’t find a way to change you back.”

“Outside, on one of the tables out the back. Assuming no one’s stolen it, that is. Wait, you’re not leaving me here? What if the cats come back?”

Silence, paused, halfway through placing Astarion down on the bed again. He flapped his wings in indignation, and she sighed and placed him on her shoulder instead.

“There. Stop getting yourself in a flap – literally. Those wing claws are sharp!”

At last, with Astarion settled on her shoulder, Silence made her way downstairs, where the tavern rang with cheerful singing. Astarion let out a slight groan.

“Let’s get out of here, quickly. This form has sensitive ears, and that drunken caterwauling is making my head throb!”

Silence tried her best to avoid the rest of the party as she made her way to the door, but with no luck. Spotting her, Gale cried out.

“Ah, there you are! Joining us at last? Come on, pull up a chair, pour a glass! Hello… What have you got there?”

“Oh gods...” Astarion groaned, as Gale approached, looking curiously. “He’ll be insufferable…”

“Well, aren’t you a chatty little fellow?” Gale asked, reaching out to stroke the bat’s head. Astarion snapped at him. “And bitey! Reminds me of Astarion. Any luck tracking him down?”

“Don’t you dare tell him!” Astarion hissed. “I’ll die of embarrassment!”

Gale couldn’t understand, Silence realised. Not without the animal-speaking potion. Although… Her eyes darted to the bar, where Halsin stood close by. Sure enough, the druid was smiling, having clearly understood.

“It seems our pale friend is in something of a predicament! How have you managed that, Astarion?”

“Astarion?” Gale frowned, and looked around the bar. At long last, his eyes returned to the bat currently fuming on Silence’s shoulder. “He isn’t… Is he?”

Well, there was no avoiding it now. One by one, the others turned their attention to Astarion, who hid his face in his wings.

“That’s Astarion?” Karlach cried, leaping from her seat and coming to pet his fur. “He’s so cute! And soft! Aren’t you just precious?”

“Certainly an interesting development,” Wyll remarked. “Could be useful for scouting ahead, or getting to places we can’t…”

“Have you figured out your wings yet?” Halsin asked. “Many druids struggle with flight when they first take a winged form. I can offer some advice, should you need it?”

Astarion flapped his wings angrily, brushing away Karlach’s hands and nearly falling from Silence’s shoulder in the process.

“Unhand me! Gods above, get me out of here!”

“Aww, listen to the cute little squeaks!” Karlach exclaimed. “Is he having a little tantrum?”

“He’s… a little overwhelmed. We’re going to go back upstairs and try to figure things out. See you all later!”

The book, thankfully, was where Astarion had said it would be. An ancient volume, full of loose and torn pages, which Silence briefly flicked through curiously. Arcane diagrams, bizarre illustrations, archaic text…

“You can browse it upstairs! Hurry, I can hear the cats coming back!”

“Alright, calm down. Relax, I’m not going to let you be a cat’s dinner.”

Making a brief detour past the bar for a bottle of wine, Silence hurried back upstairs, and settled onto her bed, the book in front of her, Astarion settling himself onto her lap. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she tried not to laugh as he clumsily attempted to open the cover with his wings, and failed, a giggle bursting out.

“Will you stop laughing? Do you have any idea how hard these wretched things are to control? They feel as if they ought to work like hands, but they don’t! I can’t pick anything up, I can’t turn pages… I can’t even scratch my nose!”

“You’ll figure it out in time, I’m sure. In the meantime…”

Silence gently scratched at the delicate, leaflike nose with one fingertip. Then, unable to resist the soft fur, turned her attention to the fur around his ears. Astarion closed his eyes, letting out a little sigh.

“Well… that I could get used to…”

With one hand now dedicated to bat-scratching, Silence opened the book with the other.

“Right, where were you up to?”

“There’s a page marked with a ribbon. Turn to that one.”

Silence obliged, turning to a page covered with illustrations of bats. Cruel-looking things, not at all like the fluffy white creature in her lap. Seemingly content in his lover’s lap, satisfied that his problem could soon be solved, and rather enjoying having his ears scratched, Astarion yawned, showing off those sharp little fangs again.

“Now, then. If you’d be so good as to turn the pages when I tell you…”

Peace settled over the room. Silence could make little sense of the archaic style of writing, but Astarion seemed to be puzzling it out. She sipped her wine, humming idly, the bat’s fur so very soft under her fingers…

“I wonder… Would you mind?”

Astarion flapped a wing clumsily at the glass in her hand.

“Seriously?”

“What? Perhaps things taste different in this form! It has to come with some perks!”

Silence gave a snort of laughter, but lowered the glass to Astarion’s level all the same, watching him lean over the rim.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Ugh! Gods, if anything, it tastes worse!”

The white fur around his mouth was now stained red, and he clumsily tried to wipe it with his wings. Silence rolled her eyes, and drained the glass herself.

“Now, if you’re done experimenting, ready for me to turn the page?”

How much time passed, Silence couldn’t say. After a while, it occurred to her that she was no longer being asked to turn pages, and the tiny body in her lap was making a rather curious sound.

“Stars? Are you… purring?”

“Hm?” Astarion twitched an ear in her direction, his eyes closed. “I… I suppose I am.”

He yawned again, and the purring resumed. Marking the page, Silence closed the book and set it aside. Gently picking Astarion up, she lay down and settled him on her chest, high enough that he could nuzzle into her neck.

“You seem comfortable, and I’m tired. We can read more in the morning.”

When Silence woke, it was to a familiar figure in bed beside her, arms wrapped around her waist, nose nuzzled into her neck. Letting out a sigh of relief, she stroked a hand through Astarion’s white curls, and scratched lightly at a pointed ear. Not as twitchy and delicate as his bat ears, but still adorable. He gave a sleepy hum of pleasure, and held her tighter.

“Well, last night was interesting. You figured out how to turn back.”

“Not consciously, but it seems the form wears off when I sleep. I think I’ll do some further reading before trying that again.”

“That sounds wise,” Silence agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Though, for what it’s worth, you do make an adorable bat.”

#bg3 fic #astarion #batstarion

[bougiebutchbitch]

What’s beauyasha?

:vibrates at high speed: nonnie I am gonna make your day

so

SO

Have you heard of our lord and savior Matt Mercer, hobo Jesus of Critical Role fame? if so, maybe you have also heard of his lovely wife, Marisha Ray, and their buddy Ashley Johnson?

Together, these three geniuses posed to us a very important series of questions.

(under the cut = spoilers for Critical Role, Season 2)!

What if there was a tough, butch, adhd lesbian monk with serious daddy-issues who was so desperate to be taken seriously and respected? Who acted so tough and tried to pretend nothing ever hurt her? Who was genuinely an amazing leader with a heart of gold, but who suffered from self esteem issues a mile deep?

What if she started aggressively flirting with her teammate, a mysterious tall, hot-goth barbarian lady who was oh-so-quiet and stoic and badass and most likely autisitc and - uh, did we mention hot? Like, literally from the first moment she saw her?

What if it started off as a 'haha me lesbian, you sexy lady' joke, but it grew into so much more?

What if, over the years that they knew each other, that monk came to realise that this barbarian lady was tough and sexy, yes, but also soooooo broken? That she was so traumatised and brutalised by the monsters of her past that she had forgotten everything - half magical-amnesia, half desperation to escape who she used to be?

What if that tall, hot-goth barbarian lady was a fallen Aasimar who had married young and had her wife ripped away from her and murdered by her cruel tribe? Who hated herself so much for being unable to save her wife that she let a demon take over her mind and use her as his puppet for so very long? Who eventually escaped his grasp, but could never quite eradicate his touch from her mind?

WHAT IF THE DEMON EVENTUALLY COMES BACK TO CLAIM tHE BARBARIAN AND TAKES HER MIND AND BODY AGAIN AND SHE IS FORCED TO WATCH HERSELF BE USED AS A WEAPON??

WHAT IF SHE WEEPS HELPLESSLY AS SHE EXECUTES THAT KIND, TOUGH, MOUTHY LITTLE MONK WHO SHE HAS BEEN STEADILY GROWING CLOSER TO (and may be the first person after her dead wife she's permitted herself to view in a romantic light)?

WHAT IF THE MONK GETS REVIVED BUT THE BARBARIAN IS STILL WRACKED WITH GUILT?

WHAT IF SHE HAS A FUCKING BEAUTIFUL ARC ABOUT LETTING GO OF THAT GUILT AND HER GRIEF REGARDING HER WIFE, AND OVERCOMING HER HORRIFIC TRAUMAS AND REGAINING HER AASIMAR WINGS?

WHAT IF SHE REGAINS HER WINGS IN A GLORIOUS SCENE WHERE THE MONK IS FALLING OFF A CLIFF AND THE ANGEL CATCHES HER (and then the wings vanish after like ten seconds so they both fall into a pool of water like IDIOTS and have SUCH a cute little awkward laugh about it)?

WHAT IF THEY CONTINUE TO DANCE AROUND EACH OTHER FOR SEVERAL WEEKS AND EVERY INTERACTION IS JUST SOOOO CHARGED AND FRAUGHT WITH EMOTION AND DELIGHTFULLY AWKWARD??

WHAT IF THEY CONFESS THEIR LOVE TO EACH OTHER TO THEIR FRIENDS, AND EVENTUALLY TO EACH OTHER, AND MAKE LOVE IN A MAGIC TOWER THEIR WIZARD FRIEND MADE?

WHAT IF THEY GO ON TO FACE THE ULTIMATE VILLAIN TOGETHER - WHO IS THE BARBARIAN'S OLDEST AND DEAREST FRIEND - AND BOTH ALMOST DIE MULTIPLE TIMES???

WHAT IF THEY BOTH SURVIVED AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER???????

Anyway if you like the sound of this, you should totally check out my fics hohohoho:

Quiet, Quiet

You Got Daddy Issues

#beauyasha #:gasps for breath: #I'm so fucking normal about them

[jplupine]

⛓In the Wolf's Den: Chapter 13⛓

Pairing: The Weeping Monk x Devin [Nonbinary Fey OC] Word Count: ~4.2k WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Exophilia, Feral Behavior, Size Difference, Heat, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Marking, Getting Caught, Creampie Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.

Summary: Devin makes it to the Fey safe haven only to realize they had lost track of time. Thankfully, Devin now has the help they need.

You can also read it on AO3!

Masterlist | Chapter 13:

  It hit a day after docking. I had woken up with a fever and locked the door to my room. I sealed the windows the best I could and kept the room dark.

  Even though I knew this was coming from all the tell-tale signs, I had hoped to have a few extra days to prepare. I wasn't ready in the slightest. I had no stored food nor water in here, and going to the market would be too big of a gamble.

  What the fuck was I supposed to do now? Starve? I couldn't.

  Maybe if I wished hard enough, Lancelot would hopefully notice my absence and bring me food. However, I could only imagine what he must be dealing with right now since he was among all of the Fey while being known as the Weeping Monk. I had wanted to help him, but I couldn't do much of anything right now.

  The gods must have wanted to rub my horrible predicament in my face when there was a knock at my door. I groaned while burying my face into the pillow. Maybe if I pretended I wasn't here, they'd leave me alone.

  "I know you're in there. I can hear you." Lancelot's voice came from the other side of the door, and my heart raced. My ears went flat against my skull as I bit my bottom lip in an attempt to muffle how I whimpered. I was torn on what to do.

  Should I unlock the door and let him in, or keep him out?

  "Devin?" He sounded uncertain and concerned. Had he heard my quiet whimper, too? Fuck, I should've known better. If he could hear the howling from the Wolf Folk village all the way in my cave, no wonder he could hear me now even as I was trying to be quiet. "Devin, are you okay?"

  I buried my face deeper in the pillow. Maybe he'd think I was still asleep if I didn't make any other noise.

  My ears twitched when I heard metallic clicking. I quickly looked up when the door was swung open. Lancelot stood there and froze as soon as his eyes landed on me.

  His gaze slowly wandered over my naked body laying across the bed. Lancelot's pupils widened, and he swallowed after breathing in. He closed the door behind himself before clearing his throat and putting his hands on his hips.

  "Sorry. I, uh, thought you were hurt."

  "Did you just pick that lock?"

  "Again, I thought you were hurt." Lancelot shifted on his feet as he glanced at the closed windows. "I-I can leave if you-"

  "No." I cut him off while sitting up. His scent was driving me wild, and since he was already here, I might as well accept the opportunity presented. "Stay. Please."

  Lancelot's eyes fell to my bare chest, seeing how much it had swollen due to my hormones. His brows slowly knit together before realization dawned on his face.

  "Before you ask, the answer is yes. Heats cause Wolf Folk breasts to enlarge. Pregnancy moreso. Did you really never notice?"

  "I, uh, I assumed my memory must've been mistaken when I saw you were....smaller than our first encounter." Lancelot swallowed again. "Are you sure you want me to stay? You're in heat."

  "Either you stay, or I remain locked in this room, miserable and alone. Please, help me." I said while spreading my legs. Lancelot saw how wet I was, and his breath shook.

  He kicked off his shoes and quickly loosened the strings of his jerkin to get it off. Belts for weapons clattered to the floor as he crossed the room. Lancelot was naked by the time he reached the edge of the bed, and he pushed me to lay down.

  His lips were on mine as I pulled his hair free of the leather strip. His rough palms were on my skin, and I leaned into his touch. My body was aching for him as a fire burned beneath my skin.

  It was hard to believe a year had already passed from the first time I had met Lancelot. It was wilder to think about what all had happened in just that time.

  Lancelot kissed along my jaw and down my neck. There was a possessive growl when his tongue curled over my throat, and I leaned my head back for him. I loved the way his mouth felt on my skin as he nipped and left hickeys in his wake.

  He ground his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he was before his face went lower. He licked from the base of my throat to my jaw, and electricity danced across my skin.

  "I love you." I panted as one of his hands slid down my stomach.

  "I love you, too." His breath was hot against my skin. "Embrace me so that I may feel heavenly bliss once more, my sweet shepherd." Lancelot whispered near my ear. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I pulled him closer before moaning from his fingers sliding over my clit.

  My fingers slid into his long hair as he pushed his fingers inside. I moaned when they curled, and Lancelot smirked while looking down at me.

  "Oh, how the angels sing through your lips." His tone was nearly a purr as he praised me in his blasphemous way. "Such sweet music." Lancelot made me moan again as my back arched off the bed.

  "Stop teasing me." I panted, and Lancelot kissed my cheek. He pulled his fingers free before lining up his cock.

  "'I am my beloved's," He groaned from thrusting in, and I moaned. "'and my beloved is mine.'" Lancelot had such a gentle tone as his forehead rested against mine. He took in a slow breath through his nose before rocking his hips back. "Mine." He growled while snapping his hips into me.

  Lancelot placed one of his large hands on my collarbone as his fingers rested around the base of my throat. He looked down at me with such predatorial eyes. His long hair fell over his shoulders as he kept thrusting and had me pinned against the bed.

  My toes curled as I moaned and dug my claws into the blanket.

  "Fuck~! Lance- Oh, fuck! Right there! Right ther- Aaahh~!" My back arched as my head lolled back. My heat had been chipping away at him, and he was finally crumbling and falling into rut as he thrust with such feral need.

  Lancelot bared his teeth while growling, and the state he was in only turned me on more. The rumbling from his chest had me shivering in delight. He grabbed the back of my knees to push my legs toward my chest.

  The new position allowed him to go deeper, and I cried out as my toes splayed. His balls smacked against my ass with each thrust, and I could feel the pressure rising. The old wood of the bed was creaking in protest from his lack of delicacy.

  However, Lancelot's heavy thrusting lost rhythm, and I growled out of frustration.

  He huffed before dropping my legs around his hips. He slid his arms under my back before picking me up with such ease. We were chest to chest while locking eyes.

  "Gods, you are beautiful." I whispered while cupping his face in my hands.

  "Such praise from your lips."

  "You think me beautiful as well?" The corners of my mouth curled upward.

  "Utterly divine." Lancelot panted before dropping me a few inches to have his cock buried to the hilt inside me. I moaned as my eyes closed, and he grabbed my ass in a firm grip to lift me up. "Are you still haunted by me?" His voice was low, and I looked at him.

  "Whenever you are away from me. The ghost of your touch finds me even in my dreams."

  "You still dream of me?"

  "Often, mo chroí." I managed to say before moaning. Lancelot slightly tilted his head to the side.

  "Mo chroí?"

  "My heart." Hearing what it meant, Lancelot smiled. He kissed me and groaned while holding me closer to his chest. He snapped his hips as his tongue slid into my mouth.

  I could do little more than hold on to him as he fucked me. I could feel the pressure building again, and I moaned into the kiss. Lancelot's blunt nails dug into my skin, making me softly growl.

  He responded in kind without stopping. He was keeping the same wild pace, and it was pushing me closer to the edge. Our breathing was coming so heavily as saliva stretched between our bottom lips.

  There was something so erotically satisfying about seeing Lancelot with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Listening to him grunt and groan had my thighs squeezing his sides. I swallowed and panted before moaning again.

  Lancelot slipped one of his hands between us, and my claws dug into his skin from his thumb rubbing my clit. Biting my bottom lip, I was turned into a moaning and whimpering mess in his arms. My ears were flat against my skull as I was so fucking close to falling apart.

  He knew I was about to cum if he kept up what he was doing, and he picked up the pace because he himself was nearing the edge. Lancelot held me firmly while slamming his cock into me. I cried out when he bit me, and his low growl was the last straw for me as he rubbed my clit.

  My orgasm left me shaking and moaning that I barely noticed how Lancelot's teeth were drawing blood. He groaned into my skin, and cum was dripping onto the bed.

  There was a moment where only the sound of our heavy breathing could be heard in the room. Calm washed over me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. Lancelot wrapped his arms around me and hummed while burying his face into my neck.

  "I'm so hungry." I mumbled, and he chuckled.

  "How about I fetch you something, then?" Lancelot suggested.

  "That would be lovely." I was smiling while playing with his hair.

  We both jolted when the door suddenly slammed open. The man standing there was tall and looked thoroughly pissed. He had a staff with a sword strapped to his hip, but he didn't attack us with either as he instead balked.

  The anger in his eyes turned into shock as he looked at us. Lancelot slowly grabbed the pillow to cover as much of our naked bodies as possible before clearing his throat.

  "I guess I forgot to lock the door back." He whispered.

  "Oh." The tall man seemed at a loss for words. "Oh." His eyebrows raised high on his forehead. "I.... We need to talk." He looked right at Lancelot.

  "Can it not wait?" I asked, and the awkward tension in the air grew thicker. The man glanced at Lancelot's clothes scattered across the floor before grabbing the doorknob.

  "Get dressed." He ordered, and the door was shut.

  "....I think that was Merlin." Lancelot muttered and swallowed.

  "If it is....good news."

  "How is that good news?" He looked at me with furrowed brows.

  "He just caught you in bed with a Fey. That proves you're not the same as before."

  "That's your takeaway from this?"

  "Lancelot, I'm in heat. All I can really think about right now is fucking you until this bed is but kindling." My tone was low, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. He licked his lips hungrily as he slowly leaned in closer.

  However, he quickly pulled away while shaking his head.

  "Don't look at me like that." He dropped me on the bed before getting up and snatching his trousers from the floor. "He looked angry, and I need to think clearly."

  "Good luck."

  "Devin." He had a firm tone, and I rolled onto my side.

  "I'm serious. You're covered in my scent now." He heavily sighed when he realized it was true. So, even when he left the room, he'd still be able to smell me and my heat on himself.

  Lancelot continued getting dressed before picking up the leather strip for his hair. He pulled it up in a quick bun that looked like a mess as he rushed toward the door to not make Merlin wait any longer.

  I sighed while stretching out my legs. Curling up with the pillow, I laid there until Lancelot's return.

  I woke up to a plate of food being held in front of my face. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep. Sitting up, I took the plate and began to devour the fruit and poultry.

  "Merlin's anger runs deep." Lancelot stated as he was crouched next to the bed.

  "....Will you be okay?" I paused while looking at him.

  "I will be. His anger is not directed at me, per se. I think Percival talked to him."

  "What makes you think that?"

  "He knew things he should not." Lancelot moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I think he's also grieving."

  "We've lost many to the Red Paladins. That's no surprise." I ate some more of the chicken. "If he is not angry with you as you say, what did he want?"

  "Plans. Tactics." Lancelot rested his elbows on his knees. "With my absence and Father Carden's death, their progress has greatly slowed. I still remember the maps and planned routes, and word will be sent to the Fey villages most at risk."

  "There's something else you're not telling me." I said while tearing apart some bread. He looked at me and rubbed his hand over his jaw.

  "Well, he, uh," Lancelot cleared his throat. "He wanted to address our 'situation'."

  "Situation?" I chuckled, and he averted his gaze while looking embarrassed.

  "You're clearly Fey, Devin. He wouldn't ignore catching us in bed together."

  "And what did you tell him?" I set the plate to the side. "Did you try to save your Christian dignity by claiming I seduced you? I would understand if you had." Crawling closer to him, I saw that he was blushing.

  "I didn't."

  "Then? How did you explain yourself?"

  "I....said that we are lovers." He looked at me, and our faces were only inches apart. "I may struggle with myself and how I feel, but I am learning. I refused to stand by and let you be taken by Odhran. I will not disavow you now to Merlin."

  "That we are lovers...." I muttered while smiling.

  "Should I not have said that?"

  "Does it look as if I am upset with that?"

  "You look happy."

  "I am." My tail swayed, and Lancelot began to smile.

  "You love me that much?"

  "Having you declare to someone else that I am your beloved warms my heart, and if you so much as wish it, I will do the same. I love you deeply, Lancelot." Placing my fingers under his chin, I turned his face more in my direction to kiss him.

  "It's so different." He whispered.

  "What is?"

  "Every time you say you love me, I can feel it."

  "Shall I say it more?"

  "Say it as much as you please."

  "If I do, I may never shut up." Lancelot chuckled at my words, and I climbed onto his lap. "Did you remember to lock the door this time?"

  "I did."

  "Then it's safe to assume you don't plan on leaving soon?"

  "How could I with you in such a needy state?" He settled his hands on my hips as I opened the front of his trousers. "The entire time I was gone, I was eager to return. You plagued my thoughts."

  "Did I now?" My tone sounded nearly like a purr as I reached into his trousers to find his cock. His breath faltered as his grip on me tightened.

  "Devin...."

  "What is it, mo chroí?"

  "I want you to know, I will do everything within my power to hold my promise to you."

  "I would hope so. I've come a far way on your word, Lancelot." I kissed him again, and he suddenly stood. He gently placed my feet on the floor before pulling his clothes off. When he grabbed me to pull me closer, he spun me around to have my back against him.

  "You smell so damn good." Lancelot rested his cheek against my temple, and his scruffy jaw was rough against my skin. His hands ran up my sides before he squeezed my chest. My tail lifted as my ass pressed against him, and a whimper came from the back of my throat. "Memories cannot compare to truly having you in my arms, my love." He whispered while pinching my nipples.

  My breath faltered as my ears flattened.

  "That's right. I still remember every way you told me to touch you. I could never forget what made you cry out in such beautiful ways.... What made you writhe beneath me." His tone dropped as he squeezed again. My thighs pressed together as I was leaning into his touch.

  "Then what are you waiting for?"

  "I like to hear how you whimper for me." He pinched my nipples to make me whine before his rough palms went down my torso. His hands slid between my legs and forced them apart. Lancelot breathed in through his nose and growled.

  His fingers went over my pussy to gather up slick. Raising his hand, he spread his fingers to show the clear fluid stretching between his digits.

  "Hmm.... Shall I stop here?"

  "No! Keep touching me."

  "Why should I?" He was taunting me now while barely holding out himself.

  "I want you." I panted, and Lancelot grabbed me as his lips brushed over my cheek.

  "What was that?"

  "I want you."

  "Have some bloody manners." He pulled my hair to make my head lean back. His teeth scraped over my neck, and he nipped.

  "Please."

  "That's more like it." Lancelot used his hold on my hair to push me toward the bed until I had to kneel on the edge. He grabbed the back of my neck to push me down with my ass in the air. His other hand slid over my hip to move me into position.

  When his hand lowered to grab my ass, my tail lifted out of the way. Lancelot's breath was deeper, and I felt his cock pressing against my core and using my slick to ease his way in. Feeling myself stretching to accommodate his length, I groaned. His grip on the back of my neck tightened while pushing my cheek further into the rumpled blanket.

  When his hips were flush against me, he grabbed my hip again. Lancelot softly sighed with relief before slowly pulling out a few inches only to thrust back in. My heat left me so aroused that there was a wet slap from his balls smacking against me over and over again.

  Lancelot groaned over me, and I dug my claws into the blanket. Feeling his fingers squeezing my hip and scruff as he thrust in deep made my head spin. Listening to his grunts and heavy breaths, I clenched when he moaned, and his hips bucked.

  His rut soon had him pistoning his cock in and out of my pussy, seeking that high as the bed rocked. Lancelot put more weight behind the hand on the back of my neck, ensuring that I would remain in the position he put me in. It gave him perfect access, hitting every spot that made me cry out and my toes to splay.

  My ears were turned back as I moaned and felt drool trickling down my cheek. Each thrust made my body jolt, the flesh of my ass jiggling from every impact of his hips slamming into me. Lancelot was panting and groaning, losing himself to the pleasure.

  He placed one foot on the edge of the bed to lean over me more as if he were mounting. It drove my instincts wild as I cried out and arched my back. My tail swayed while still off to the side.

  Gods, it was so hard to have a coherent thought with how good it felt. Lancelot pushed me further onto the bed to climb on behind me before fully mounting and biting my shoulder.

  His arms wrapped around me, one hand going between my thighs to find my clit. My entire body shuddered when his fingers rubbed against the throbbing bud. Lancelot grunted into my skin while holding me to his chest as he fucked me.

  His rut was no doubt filling his mind with thoughts of breeding. Lancelot's hand not between my thighs ran up my stomach and over my nipples, squeezing one of the swollen mounds as I bared my fangs. His touch sent sparks dancing across my skin, and he pinched my nipple to make me squirm beneath him.

  Lancelot had me at his mercy trapped beneath him, left with no choice but to feel his body surrounding mine. My senses were drowning in him as I whimpered and moaned. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw his eyes dark and full of hunger as he was watching me. His hair swayed from his thrusting, and he opened his mouth with his face so close to mine.

  He licked my cheek, a show of affection before nipping my ear closest to him. I couldn't take it anymore with all of the sensations colliding like a spring storm. My moan was nearly a roar as I was cumming around his cock with my claws tearing through the blanket.

  Lancelot groaned and fucked me through it. My body clenching around him became too much, and his cock was twitching while pumping me full of cum. His hips gradually began to slow as he panted and grunted in my ear.

  I was trying to catch my breath, and he rested his head on my shoulder with his body slowly relaxing. He eventually pulled out, his softening cock covered in a mix of bodily fluids that were also leaking down my thighs. Lancelot nuzzled my cheek and jaw to help ease me back down from the high.

  My legs felt weak, and when I eased them outward to lay down on my stomach, I felt the ache in my lower back. Lancelot began to leave sweet kisses over my shoulders and upper back, including where he'd bitten me.

  "You're so beautiful." Lancelot whispered. Scoffing, I wiped the drool from my face.

  "I'm a mess."

  "You can be both at once." I could hear the smile in his voice as his lips brushed over my skin. "You are entrancing." Lancelot placed a hand on my lower back and slowly moved it upward. "The way you move and your muscles flex.... The way you sound. Your eyes." He kissed my temple. "Beautiful."

  I propped myself up on my elbows as my tail softly wagged, giving away just how much I enjoyed his praise.

  "Even the way your pretty lips part and shape your voice." Lancelot's fingers caressed my lips. "You are a work of art, my love."

  "You certainly have a way with words." I smiled, and he kissed my cheek.

  "I only speak the truth." Lancelot then laid down beside me and brushed his knuckles over my cheek. His eyes were so gentle as he looked at me, far from that cold stare that could bore through me.

  "You truly don't find me scary? Monstrous?"

  "....No. I understand what you meant by your nature." He gently tapped my chin with his knuckle while looking at my mouth. I playfully nipped his finger, and he smirked. "Your fangs and claws are just a part of you, meant to aid in your survival. I have yet to see you turn these on another out of pure malice." His gaze was focused on my fangs gently around his finger. "Sometimes I find myself even thinking they're a bit....adorable. It's a bit strange."

  "It's not strange." I said after letting go. "Admiration, love, understanding; these can all make you see things differently." Holding his hand and opening it, I kissed his palm. "I no longer see you as I did before, either."

  "....How do you see me now, Devin?" Lancelot hesitantly questioned as if he were afraid of the answer.

  "My mate." I softly smiled and tilted my head. "You confessed your love for me in many ways, Lancelot, including under the light of a full moon. I reciprocated."

  "And that makes us mates?"

  "Do you not want us to be? You were calling me your lover not too long ago-"

  "No, I want to be your mate."

  "Good. I would have bit you if you said you didn't." Lancelot chuckled, his smile making me feel so light and for a warmth to bloom in my chest. "I'm going to enjoy having you around for my entire heat instead of just a few days."

  "You are an insatiable wolf."

  "Tell me you don't think you will enjoy it, too." I challenged while resting my chin on his chest. Lancelot's smile turned sultry before he leaned in to kiss me without saying a word.

  Having his rut triggered by my heat made me not doubt that he would be fine. Lancelot wasn't human, and given what happened during my last heat, I would not be left wanting in any way.

#In the Wolf's Den #cursed #cursed 2020 #the weeping monk #cursed weeping monk #cursed lancelot #lancelot #oc x canon #lemon #Wolf does fanfic

[thrillofhope]

First Lines

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

I was tagged by @iamstartraveller776 and @myrsinemezzo

Galadriel rushes into the restaurant, cheeks pink from the cold and the lingering rage of finding out her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—is married. [On the Twelfth Night, or, Epiphany: How Galadriel Seduced a Priest and Discovered the True Meaning of Christmas; Galadriel x Halbrand; Rings of Power]

Halbrand steps away from the grill, the heat of the kitchen causing sweat to form at his hairline. [Half of My Heart; Galadriel x Halbrand; Rings of Power]

He creeps from the void, drawn to the land made in his likeness. [The Lesser of Two Evils; Galadriel x Sauron; Rings of Power]

“There is no such future,” she denies vehemently. [The Music of the Night; Galadriel x Sauron; Rings of Power]

She had come to convince him. [To Follow the Light; Galadriel x Sauron; Rings of Power]

The door opens. [No Light, No Light; Galadriel x Halbrand; Rings of Power]

“Let me find her, Father,” the Weeping Monk volunteers, thrilled at the challenge, at the opportunity it would present. [In Pursuit; Nimue x the Weeping Monk/Lancelot; Cursed]

They had been traveling for what felt like days. [Accursed Salvation; Nimue x the Weeping Monk/Lancelot; Cursed]

“Perhaps here you can find some peace, Galadriel.” [No One's Here to Sleep {coming soon}; Galadriel x Sauron; Rings of Power]

Finrod Felagund was two thousand three hundred and eighty one years old on the day his body was found split open and strewn before the apothecary’s doorstep. [When the Day Met the Night {coming soon-ish}; Galadriel x Halbrand; Rings of Power]

If you see this and you write fic, drop your first lines!

#my fic #first line game #keeping it simple

[many-gay-magpies]

ohh im gonna read so much weeping monk fic when this is over

#magpie thoughts

[talesofthehollow]

Yup, we’re still kicking! Well, I’m nothing if not consistent, so here is my moodboard following the story thus far in A Song of Ash & Sky (as w/ last year and year before that). As always, thank you to @allgirlsareprincesses for keeping the Nimulot flame going w/ your riveting words! ❤

Volume 3 was a challenge, I confess... 💦 I got lost in the woods with this one, but sometimes you need that to find your way! 🤔 Notice how the latest slew of chapter heads display an interesting trend... 👀

Merry Xmas & Happy Holidays, everyone! ❤❤❤

#cursed #cursed netflix #nimue #lady of the lake #weeping monk #lancelot #nimue x weeping monk #nimue x lancelot #nimulot #born in the dawn/to pass in the twilight #with water/with fire #fic reccs #ASoA+S #edits #moodboard #claudie!screeches #I hope you like? #happy holidays ❄ #merry xmas 🎄

[allgirlsareprincesses]

A Song of Ash and Sky - A Cursed Fanfic

Chapter 20 - A Love in Ashes

Nimue learns that the situation for the Fey is more dire than ever. Morgana tells the full story of her time as the Widow. And Nimue makes a fateful decision that may save the Fey, but put happiness forever out of her reach.

She turned to face the hearth, then knelt. Confused, Nimue craned her neck to see the black-clad figure digging into the ashes at the edge of the fire, barely missing the embers that smoldered there. Rising back to her full height with a fistful of soot, Morgana murmured a few unfamiliar words, then scattered the ashes into the air in a sweeping arc.

The fire vanished and the room was plunged into darkness.

~~~~~~

Sorry for the lack of smut but I do hope you enjoy the angsty set-up for some sexy conflict next chapter! Already working on it!

#nimulot #nimulot fic #nimulot fanfic #nimulot fanfiction #cursed netflix #cursed fanfiction #cursed fanfic #cursed fic #nimue x lancelot #lancelot x nimue #nimue x weeping monk #weeping monk x nimue #cursed #netflix cursed #nimue cursed #cursed nimue #cursed lancelot #cursed arthur #red spear #morgana #cursed morgana #merlin #cursed merlin #enemies to lovers #a song of ash and sky #long fic #lady of the lake #fey queen #cailleach #wolf blood witch

[aceofwhump]

Happy November everyone!!

Whumptober is now over which is sad but guess what? I have a big announcement to make!

IT'S DONE!!!

It's taken me two years (and some change) but I have completed my Cursed fanfic!!

Oh my god I'm so excited about this. I've wanted to start posting this soooo many times but I knew if I did that before it was done I'd regret it cause I change things all the time. But it is now FINALLY completed!!! I'm gonna do one more read through for last edits and then I'll start posting! AHHH THIS IS SO EXCITED!!! It's 16 chapters!! 70,000+ words!!! The biggest thing I've ever written and it's pretty much all whump with a little bit of plot lol.

I'm so excited to share this with you all!!! I don't even know if anyone even reads fic for The Weeping Monk anymore but I don't care cause I'm so freaking proud of this fic I could burst!

I'm going to be posting it chapter by chapter on AO3 but I'll be posting chapter update posts here. I haven't decided on a schedule yet though.

If anyone wants to be tagged please let me know. I've got a few names on my to tag list already but if anyone else wants to be tagged go ahead and reply to this or send me a message :)

I'm excited!!

#mod post #it got momentarily delayed in sept and oct due to whumptober but it is now DONE!!

[dustdeepsea]

BG3 patch 5 finally released on mac today

I played all of the epilogue and it feels so bittersweet. I'm so happy for all of the stories we got.

I did this with Rin, my first playthrough character (Drow monk who romanced Astarion) and it was intense, even though I had put aside that character more than 100 hours ago.

(rambly thoughts/spoilers below the cut)

I wanted to hug illithid!Karlach, but alas. (Dammon's hopeful note still shows up for her in the chest, which is something?)

Wyll became a Ranger instead of a Warlock! That's so perfect for him. But I couldn't hug him, maybe because I turned his romance down? :(

Shadowheart mellowed out so much, and became so open and sweet. I am romancing her on my second playthrough, and I know I'm going to weep buckets when I play this epilogue the second time.

I've gone through an entire arc of obsessing over Astarion, so I felt quite alright when I interacted with him. He is so sweet and beautiful; I understand why people can't bear not to romance him every iteration.

Halsin is still bigger than me, even with my larger-framed body. This man is massive!! His hugs must feel amazing.

Gale became a professor at Blackstaff Academy, and we're going to visit as a guest lecturer :3

Jaheria and Minsc are as sassy and loveable as ever. Jaheira also confirmed that the Upper City is basically reconstructed from the rubble in six months lol

As a writer, I'm secretly cheering some of the choices I made while penning my post-game fic and bemoaning others.

But most of all, as a player, I'm just really glad I got to have this experience with all these characters one more time. I feel like I have closure now.

Thank you, Larian <3 <3

#bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 #thank you larian

[powerfultenderness]

8 and 12? :)

!! 😄 ty for asking!!

8. Which fic or hc do you feel most proud of?

Hm, I haven't posted many HC's, tho I am starting to now!, but I think the fic I'm most proud of is [The Baker's Daughter, Netflix's Cursed, The Weeping Monk/Reader]. It's just pure fluff that I wrote when I needed some comfort and I like how soft it came out. I still like to go back and read it from time to time (sometimes to just enjoy it, and sometimes to see if it'll inspire me to write the sequel).

12. The funniest comment someone has left on a fic of yours?

Oh! Waay back when I was writing [Forlorn Hope, CA: TWS, Bucky/Reader. Ao3], I had a bit of a writer's block so I wrote a short and silly chapter in which the Reader-character thinks she's been captured by aliens (she hasn't) and she yells at the people trying to help her, "fuckin' aliens!!" and a couple people just wrote that as comments! 🤣

Ty for asking! I nearly went back through my Ao3 inbox to find a few of those comments, but that would take a lot of scrolling as that fic is so old now 😅

[Fanfic writer ask game :)]

#anonymous #ask game #ty!

[euphoniumpets]

Novocaine | The weeping monk x reader [ SMUT ]

A/N: Guess who’s back, back again, with another smut fic about our lovely the weeping monk. I have missed to write about this man HONESTHLY.  Also, can we sign a petition to have a second season of Cursed? please? Also, I kind of feel that this fandom is like... dead? 

@xoloverr​ requested: I was wondering if I could request a Lancelot smut from Cursed? I was kind of thinking about a first time where he was really shy and gentle and they were only friends before this. I was also thinking about maybe he finds y/n in the pool thing that arthur took nimue to in episode 5.

Warnings: the usual, smut 18+ pleaase, do i need to say anything else? this is basically porn without a plot lmao. 

Tagging my sweet lovlies bcz i miss interacting with them about lancelot: @purerepelsdirt​ @lancelotapricot​

Staring at the view in front of you, you felt a sudden peace. You had never had a calm prescense ever since the paranoia that the red paladins would find you and Lancelot on the run. The two of you were friends ever since you were little. You had known him ever since father Carden had took you in as he did the same with Lancelot. 

Lancelot did have feelings for his childhood friend. However, he felt conflicted about that father Carden would never allow him to feel the love he was craving for. That was why he decided to run away, taking you with him. He knew that father Carden was displeased about the fact his skilled warrior chose the wrong side, but he didn’t care, all he cared about was her. 

The two of you were on the run when you had stopped running at met Arthur and the others. They didn’t believe that Lancelot had changed side because of his history with the red paladins, but eventually, everyone stared to warm up towards him. 

Lancelot became Arthur’s loyal knight and you couldn’t be more prouder. She knew that he had a hard time to settle in. 

With close eyes, Lancelot led you towards the place where Arthur had told him. As soon he got there, he could tell that he was right, it was romantic because of the beautiful view in front of him. 

‘‘Where are you taking me?’‘ You asked after a long silence as you heard him chuckle from behind. 

‘‘It’s a surprise,’‘ He replied as he leaned into your ear as the two of you kept walking. Lancelot stopped in his tracks as he let go of your eyes while you opened it. You squinted your eyes as you saw the beautiful orange sky in front of you as a small pool area that hot smoke surrounded it. 

‘‘It’s beautiful,’‘ You gasped slightly as you turned your head to face him with a grin on your face. Soon enough, the two of you dressed off while you stepped inside of the hot water. 

You blushed when you glanced towards Lancelot’s bare body before looking out on the sky. ‘’Have I told you how beautiful you are?’’ He whispered as he stared into your eyes. ‘’Not until tonight,’’ You responded teasingly as he smiled. You felt his hand lift towards your cheek as he stroke it gently. 

The two of you leaned towards each other as you kept glancing down at his lips. It seemed that he had the same idea. ‘’May I?’’ He mumbled as you couldn’t speak but nodded. You felt his lips attach at yours and his hand pulled your body into his closer to his body. 

The kiss became more passionate as you cupped his cheek and began to place your legs around his hips. He wrapped his hands around your waist as you could feel his cock brush gently against your clitoris. You let out a small gasp when you felt him groan and went down on your neck and hit the spot. 

You began to push your hips against his cock and grind against it as it sent both of you pleasure. You moaned out loud as you heard him growl into your ear before he stopped your movement. You almost let out a whine towards the feeling as you stared into each other’s eyes. 

‘‘Are you sure?’‘ Lancelot gasped as you nodded. ‘‘Yes, I want to feel you,’‘ You told him before you took his hard cock and rubbed the tip gently against your pussylips. Lancelot hissed when he felt you entering as you let out a loud moan. You had never felt so full until now. 

The two of you stood still for a moment so you could adjust his size before Lancelot flipped over. He hovered above you so that your back was faced against the stone wall of the pool. Lancelot gribbed your hips tightly before he sucked on your neck and began to move. 

You let out a gasp towards the feeling while you gripped your hands onto his shoulders. Lancelot kept move into you as the water splashed around you. ‘’Lance, faster, please,’’ You begged him. ‘’I could hurt you,’’ He replied. 

‘‘You could never hurt me,’‘ You replied. Lancelot scanned over your face before he began to pound you faster. You let out a loud moan as you repeated his name several times. ‘‘Lancelot, fuck, this feels so good,’‘ You replied as he began to kiss you and then suck on your breast. 

‘‘Yeah? does it feel good when I pound my hard cock into you?’‘ You nodded as as you could feel the familiar knot building in your stomach. ‘‘I’m going to cum,’‘ You replied as he gritted his teeth. ‘‘Me too, cum for me baby,’‘ He said as he began to pound you faster. 

You kept moaning out his name loud as you could see stars under your eyes as you cummed all over his cock. Both of you let out loud moans as you could feel Lancelot’s cum inside you. The two of you breathed heavily as you placed your forehead against each other. ‘’I love you,’’ He whispered as you smiled fondly and met his eyes. ‘’I love you too,’’ 

#lancelot x reader #the weeping monk x reader smut #cursed #nimue #the weeping monk imagine #the weeping monk fic #the weeping monk x reader #the weeping monk

[jplupine]

In the Wolf's Den [Masterlist]

Words: 59,164 (Ongoing)

Rating: R

Pub Date: March 4, 2022

Pairing: The Weeping Monk (M) x Devin (NB)

Summary: Living alone in the wood in a hidden cave, Devin is feverish and praying to the gods for help. They can barely hunt or fetch water and are becoming weaker as the days pass between fitful nights of restlessness. When someone does find Devin's cave, however, they swear it's a cruel act of the gods rather than mercy.

AO3 || Wattpad

WARNINGS: This fic contains graphic sexual content, dubious consent [heat], blood and injury, canon typical violence, religious trauma, mental/emotional healing, and various other serious topics. Each chapter will have a more in depth warning label.

Chapter 1✨🩸🍋🍖🔔

Chapter 2✨🥊🩸

Chapter 3🩸

Chapter 4✨

Chapter 5✨

Chapter 6✨

Chapter 7✨

Chapter 8✨

Chapter 9✨

Chapter 10✨

Chapter 11✨🍋🍖

Chapter 12✨🥊🩸

Chapter 13✨🩸🍋🍖

#In the Wolf's Den #cursed 2020 #cursed weeping monk #cursed lancelot #oc x canon #fanfic #exophilia #lemon #Wolf does fanfic