#halsin x goneril

[yourworsttotebag]

Halsin to a Dark Urge character during their like third conversation: I am here to be your ear, as you bear your burdens, and the arms that protect you, if you can shoulder them no more.

This man is bought in 100% on day one, on someone who says they can't stop thinking about murdering. I am obsessed with him.

[yourworsttotebag]

"lovelorn ninety-year-old"

[yourworsttotebag]

a short halsin/dark urge fic

Been thinking a lot and writing a lot today, tending a lot to my precious wip babies. Also wrote something very quick that I wouldn't give myself time to get too precious about.

I recently played through the scene in the Last Light Inn where Isobel and the inn are attacked and wrote a little thing about that.

Implied Halsin/Goneril (Dark Urge) features some talk about injuries and lots of talk about blood

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When the last demon was dead, Goneril sank to the floor and lay on her back while she gulped for air. Her blood was still screaming for Isobel’s blood, the urge thudding in her neck and temples. She could still do it. If Isobel died, so would everyone in the inn. One small brick removed from a dam that would unleash a flood of death.

Goneril touched her tongue tentatively to her lip and tasted the blood there. It seemed humanoid instead of whatever odd substance pulsed through the demon's veins. The richness of it soothed some of the ache in her head, what she imagined a drunk felt like when the first sip of wine started spreading out from their stomach. She scrubbed her wrist across her mouth before she could attempt another taste.

“Hey, soldier.” Karlach leaned over her with a frown. She held out her hand and Goneril took it, allowing the tiefling to lift her all the way to her feet with ease. “You don’t look so good. You hurt?”

“Just had the wind knocked out of me,” Goneril said. She was still panting. It felt like her lungs were only taking in half of what they needed.

“We should check out downstairs,” Karlach said. “Looks like Jaheria and Halsin took care of the little fucks down there, but -”

Goneril wasn’t really listening but when Karlach’s words landed, she turned and ran.

“Oh, hey - boss!” Karlach called out but Goneril was already turning a corner.

Halfway down the stairs, Goneril leapt over the side of the banister and landed softly on the balls of her feet. The tiefling she landed next to screamed in surprise but Goneril ignored her and set off running again. 

The door to the large dorm room was open and Goneril slid to a halt in front of it. Her hands gripped the door frame so hard one of her knuckles cracked and her eyes immediately fell on Halsin. He was helping an injured Fist into one of the beds, urging a man with a dripping head wound to lay back against the pillows.

He was alive. He was alive. He was alive. Goneril set her hands on her hips, still in desperate need of oxygen, but feeling her breaths come easier. He was alive, he was alive.

Halsin was alive but he was injured. Two bloody gashes marked his bicep, like something with massive claws had taken a swipe at him. Blood had traveled all the way down to his wrist but Halsin was focused on his patient. His profile seemed calm as he held his hands above the Fist and golden energy began flowing from his hands.

Goneril looked between Halsin’s hands and his injury, lingering on the open flesh. Her stomach flipped dangerously. She stared and stared but she couldn’t read the poetry in the blood that dripped down his arm. It didn’t strike her as beautiful or sacred. It was just red. She turned away from the open door and pressed her back flat against the wall.

Across the large space, she saw Karlach coming down the stairs. Goneril closed her eyes and tried to picture her thoughts as a flowing river, passing over obstacles and endlessly moving forward.

“Uh - hey?” Karlach held her arms out at her sides. “Was it something I said?”

Goneril shook her head. Her chest had stopped heaving but her pulse still felt jittery.

“Sorry.”

“Well…come on,” Karlach said. “Isobel needs to talk to you.”

Goneril silently followed Karlach back upstairs. She had trouble listening when Isobel and Jaheria talked to her. They wanted her to go to Moonrise Towers but the only thing new about that was the urgency. 

She knew Halsin could heal his own wound with magic but when the desire to kill Isobel seemed to claw its way up through her throat, Goneril pictured wiping the blood from his arm and stitching together the wound herself. The hunger usually retreated after the first few mental passes of her needle. 

[yourworsttotebag]

above water

The Dark Urge/Halsin ~3.2k words explicit

Goneril looked down at her body disappearing beneath the dark water. “They think I’m dangerous. I can tell. But I am dangerous…so it’s alright if people hate me because of that.” Halsin frowned. “Man should not begrudge the wolf for their teeth. It’s simply their nature.” She lifted a brow. “Then I am a wolf to be tamed?” “I don’t believe a wolf can be tamed,” he said. “But they can be fed and offered a place by a warm fire. They may be shown care in a way that allows them their space to roam. And then, perhaps, they may deem another worthy of their time and protection - even if they never allow a gentle touch in return.”

[yourworsttotebag]

I made a sound that I can only describe as "startled duck."

[yourworsttotebag]

wip wednesday

I hadn't worked on my Halsin/Goneril skinny dipping fic in like 6 weeks and then someone asked if I had any fics for them on deck and I wrote like - half of the damn thing.

There was a great splash as Halsin dove down into the water and Goneril stared determinedly at the opposite shore line as the ripples broke against her body. She had waded almost up to her shoulders but she wondered if she should cross her arms over her chest anyway.  Being near Halsin always made her feel very aware of her body. When he laid his hands on her to heal her, when he smiled down at her and her pulse raced, her body was more than just a weapon crafted by her father’s hand. It was what she used to experience the world. It was something that felt all of her pain, needs, desires. Something that might be desirable to others.   Goneril had seen (and definitely heard) her companions finding romantic escape with one another but pulled away from anyone who seemed to try to get too close to her. Private meetings were gently turned down, soft gestures forcibly made platonic or outright ignored. Knowing what she knew now about her past, her family, it seemed better that she was still alone. Exactly as she had been designed. She hugged herself beneath the water. 

🌊

[yourworsttotebag]

them 😭😭😭😭

[yourworsttotebag]

OOOOO Lake please!!

AMA about my wips!

[drumroll that goes on for way too long until I pop up from the stage in a shower of confetti holding a banner that says "Skinny Dipping" on it]

Also I would describe getting Halsin's voice down as it own work in progress but it's pretty fun to try.

“There should be no reason to begrudge the falcon her claws or the wolf her teeth. It’s simply their nature.” Goneril lifted a brow. “Then I am a wolf you wish to tame?” “I don’t believe a wolf can be tamed,” Halsin said. “But they can be fed and offered a place by a warm fire. They may be shown care in a way that allows them their space to roam. And then, perhaps, they may deem another worthy of their time and protection - even if they never allow a gentle touch in return.”