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lost-in-fandoms · 2 months ago

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Thought i would be done but...yeah didn't happen. Part one here.

Living with Max is easy.

He doesn't whine when Daniel is taking care of his leg, he doesn't mind sleeping on some blankets on the floor, next to the fireplace, he offers to help around, and best of all he doesn't ask questions.

Well, not exactly. He asks so many questions. Once he gets over his initial bout of shyness and quiet, he asks questions about Daniel's vegetables, about his horse, about the woods, about the traps, about the animals. He offers his own opinions too, telling Daniel he's growing peas in too much shade and that he's cooking his meat for too long. And, much to Daniel's annoyance, he is often right too.

But he doesn't ask questions about Daniel. He doesn't know if it is because Max doesn't care or because he doesn't want to be asked questions back, but he appreciates being spared the trouble of telling him to mind his own business.

They also work surprisingly well together. Max is older than he initially seemed, dirt, hunger and exhaustion making him look younger, and he seems to know a little bit of everything. Even if he doesn't ask, Daniel is a little curious about what path in life brought him to have such a wide mix of knowledge. He seems to know how to move around the woods without scaring the prey, how to skin and cook animals, how to take care of the vegetables (better than Daniel), how to keep himself and the house clean.

It's nice to have a second pair of hands around, even if the pair of hands should sit down more often to let their leg heal. Not that Max ever listened to that.

And he's funny. Daniel hadn't realised how much he missed just sitting around the table after dinner, talking and laughing with someone else. How good it was to wake up and find the fire already stoked and the water pitch already filled. To have someone to say good morning to who would say it back.

Daniel hadn't been thinking of himself as lonely before, he was content with his choice of life, but he can admit that he likes this. He is glad Max decided to stay and he's glad Max seems to be having a good time too, at least from what Daniel could tell.

This is why, when about three weeks after Max's arrival he wakes up in the middle of the night to the sounds of him moving around the house, his first thought isn't Max is leaving, but something is wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice scratchy with sleep and way too loud in the quiet of the night.

He watches Max flinch, dropping something, before turning around to face Daniel.

"Go back to sleep," he whispers, too shaky to be a good order. There's something different in his voice, and it only takes Daniel's tired brain a few moments to realise that he had heard those notes before, in the woods about three weeks ago. Fear.

Daniel sits up, eyes finally adjusting to the silver darkness of the room, moonlight streaming through the open windows.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, voice lower, matching Max's whisper.

He listens to the sounds coming from outside, thinking that maybe the men Max was running from have come back, but he can't hear anything unusual in the late summer night.

Max is grabbing what he dropped on the floor, stuffing it into a bag that he must have taken from Daniel's things, but the moment, Daniel doesn't even care about the fact that he's very obviously stealing from him.

"Max, what is happening?" He's getting frustrated now, hates not knowing what is going on, worry and irritation growing together.

He stands up, taking a couple of steps towards Max, wanting to see him better, but he stops when Max flinches back.

"I need to leave," he finally says, voice raspy. It's not an explanation, and Daniel suddenly regrets never asking any questions.

"Why? Where?"

He doesn't want Max to leave. The knowledge of that settles like armor on his chest, safe but heavy. Living with Max isn't just easy, it's good. He doesn't want to go back to an empty house, not after the past weeks have been so nice.

"I...I need..." Max shudders, as if in pain, and Daniel's legs ache with the need of walking closer.

"Did something happen?" Did I do something wrong?

Max shakes his head, jerky and sharp. When he exhales, Daniel can hear him bite back a whine.

He doesn't want to scare Max, but he is confused, and he is worried, and he is not going to let him go without an explanation.

He steps between Max and the door.

"You owe me an explanation," he says, hating the way it makes Max stiffen, unwilling to take it back anyway.

"I don't owe you..." Max snaps, before interrupting himself with half a growl. "You haven't told me anything either!"

"That's different. I'm not running away in the middle of the night."

Max takes a step forward, back tense, and Daniel instinctively braces himself, eyes flying towards the table, where his knife always is, but Max doesn't attack him.

He shivers again, hands clenching around the bag and then letting it fall on the ground with a thump, shoulders slumping as all the fight seems to leave him.

"Please, Daniel, I need to leave. It's...it's not safe."

Max looks up, finally meeting Daniel's eyes, and he's suddenly reminded of what the man had said, so many days ago.

He's dangerous. Cursed.

Max's eyes look weird, blue brighter than ever, almost glowing in the moonlight. His face is twisted in pain and there's the glimmer of sweat gathering at his hairline. None of that would worry Daniel, but there's something...different in him. Something other.

Cursed.

The room seems too bright now. The moon is almost full tonight.

Cursed.

Max had said he hadn't killed anyone, but if this is what Daniel is thinking of...

Max closes his eyes, whole body shivering again, his edges almost blurring with it. Or maybe it's not just a trick of the light. Daniel doesn't know what to think anymore.

He doesn't want Max to go. He doesn't want this to happen.

He steps away from the door.

For a moment, they both stand still, looking at each other.

For a moment, Daniel hopes he'll wake up and it will be morning, and Max will be coming in with the last tomatoes from the garden.

Then Max whines, something low and pained, something animal, and bolts.

Daniel doesn't stop him.

He watches as his shadow changes even before he's fully reached the trees.

Then he sits on the doorstep and waits for the sunrise.

#maxiel #my writing #i never did come up with a tag for this uh #cursed max au #good enough but i accept any and all suggestions for a name for this au because i dont like that #ignore any typos im sad and hungry and that should justify everything #part three will come...probably...#like i know what happens in it but writing it is different #i might write it later i might write it in a week i might never write it who knows not me #also im glad people seemed to like this but so many people said they couldn't wait to see what would happen #and now i am stressed the fuck out about letting everyone down sjdgbdjfb #also if you think you know what is happening no you don't :)

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blackjackkent · 10 months ago

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The city is hovering on the edge between summer and autumn, and the night has just the slightest hint of a chill on the air as Hector climbs the stairs to the balcony of the Singing Lute Inn, where Karlach told him to meet her.

She's already seated at the table; he can see her fidgeting nervously as he approaches, and her head snaps up, startled, at the sound of his footsteps. Then the nerves are wiped from her face as she grins brightly.

"Hi. Hi! You made it!" she says eagerly. Leaning forward, she pushes back the chair next to her at the table; her eyes run over him from head to foot, drinking in the sight of him in this place so far from camp or combat. "You look nice," she murmurs.

Hector has been nothing but excited to come out and spend this time with her, ever since she suggested the idea - but now, to his own surprise, he feels a pleasantly warm, bashful feeling settle into his chest and realizes he is blushing a little.

Their relationship has been rather backwards and jumbled, he reflects. Months of hoping, wishing, pining after someone he could not even touch, let alone have... and then the collapse, barely over the course of a day, into passionate love - which was new enough for him, when it happened. This, a more traditional romantic moment, is perhaps even more unfamiliar to him now. But unlike so many of the things he has faced that were new and terrifying... this is new and joyful, because it is with her. He is safe, with her eyes on him, no matter what.

"So do you," he murmurs, looking back appreciatively, and he is gratified to see a similar dark flush rise in her cheeks as well at the compliment.

"Thank you," she answers with a bright smile. Shifting nervously in her seat, she picks up the menu hastily and peruses it with an intense studiousness.

"Hmm. Baldurian seafood stew. No thank you..." She peers at him over the top of the sheet. "What do you think you'll have?"

He is conscious of the surreal feeling that they are performing a play for each other, each of them trying to sort out what "acting normal" entails, with a little warm thrill as they successfully hit each beat in the scene. "The grilled rothe ribs sound good," he says with a slight smile.

She grins with an air of relief. "Just what I had in mind," she agrees. She waves eagerly at the innkeeper, a broad and rather surly orc gentleman. "Two of the rothe ribs, please," she says firmly. "And two glasses of..." She pauses, looks questioningly at Hector.

"Wine," Hector puts in, pointing at the item on the menu.

"And two glasses of wine," Karlach finishes, and nods with satisfaction.

As the bartender stalks off, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes narrow, taking on a playful air as she starts to relax into the moment.

"So... you're an adventurer, right? How's that going?"

Hector grins, mildly bemused. "You've been by my side for a lot of it, you know," he points out.

She gives him an gentle nudge in the shoulder. "I know, but this is our *first date*, remember?" she says conspiratorially. "Tonight, you're a mystery to me."

His eyebrows lift in understanding, and he opens his mouth to try and answer in kind, continue the conceit of them being strangers to each other... but then he stops, and grins sheepishly. He's neither actor, liar, nor orator at the best of times, and if he is honest, he is finding the way she is looking at him... distracting.

"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't already love you," he says ruefully.

She hesitates, then laughs, shaking her head. "It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself anyway," she answers, and snorts softly. "We're terrible at this."

He reaches out, puts a hand on hers on the table, grinning at her slight discomfiture. "Want to get out of here?" he says teasingly.

Her eyes widen and her face flashes through a mix of eagerness and determination in rapid succession. "No! ...Yes-- No. We came to have a nice date, and that's what we're going to do." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with a stubborn smirk. "Go on. Date me. I dare you."

Hector laughs softly. "You're right. So... erm... where did you grow up?" he tries, after a moment's thought, trying to determine what he might ask her if he had never met her before, if the scent and warmth of her were still things he had yet to experience. This is still not his strong suit - but he will make the effort if it will make her happy.

She brightens up excitedly and settles back into the moment with only a little awkwardness.

"Right here in Baldur's Gate, more or less," she says, gesturing out to the view of the city below them. "My folks are long gone now. But they raised me in the Outer City. Dad was a porter in town, mum did laundry." She smiles nostalgically. "Still think of her when I smell clean sheets. We were poorer than dirt, but my gods we had fun."

He leans back in his seat, just enjoying listening to the sound of her voice, her excitement, her happiness at being back in the city, all washing over him. He's heard some of this from her before - but not all of it. Perhaps this 'pretending to be strangers' bit has even more merit than he expected.

"What about you?" she asks him curiously.

(A/N: The three options here are "much like yours," "i don't like to talk about my past," and "I'm from baldur's gate too, I wonder if we crossed paths"; none of these are actually relevant to Hector's experience of growing up at the monastery. So we're going to skip over this line. XD )

He has told her some things about his life among the monks of Silverlight before - but fairly little about his childhood there. He finds himself starting to talk about it now, though. He has no real stories of joy and excitement like those she describes, and on some level he has started to realize just how barren his life was in these particular regards until he met her... but there were good memories too. He ends up telling her a little about the lessons he received - how he started being trained as a scribe before they discovered his fascination with the ancient tomes and texts of their historical library...

She listens with rapt fascination, just as he had listened to her, a slight, blissful smile on her face.

It's hard to say how long they sit there, caught in the conversation, trading stories back and forth; both of them have started to relax into this 'first date' conceit and Hector feels his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. They're only interrupted by the eventual arrival of their food... which is wrong.

Two plates of seafood stew land on the table in front of them, along with the two glasses of wine. Karlach looks down at the plate with an air of some disappointment - but is met with a curse from the irritable innkeeper who stalks away when she tries to ask for a change.

Hector can see her struggling to mask the disappointment at the meal not quite going as planned, and she forces a smile back onto her face.

"Worst guy I ever met," she mutters wryly. "How about a toast?"

But, frazzled, she moves too fast, and the wine glass slips from her fingers as she goes to lift it, sending a spray of pale purple across the table - and over her lap. "Oh, SHIT," she snaps, and Hector can hear her voice crack.

Frowning, he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He can feel the increased heat of the engine in her palm and knows it for a sign of her agitation, and his thumbs drift over her knuckles gently, soothingly. "We can use my glass," he says mildly, and reaches to lift it between them. "To us."

He can see her relax, his voice and touch pushing away the frustration in favor of something warmer. She smiles slightly, nods agreement as he makes the toast, and her eyes track his intensely. The conceit of the first date is gone abruptly, and he sees the full depth of feeling in her eyes, everything they have built together in the months that he has been hers.

"May we live every day as if it were our last," she says softly. "'Cause you never know when your last will come." Before he can respond, she pushes up from her chair and leans across the table to press her lips against his fiercely.

As always, the oblique reference to how little time they have left makes his heart twist in his chest -- but now it is his turn to push that down and away. It has no place here. This moment is for her - for them - to feel, just for a little while, like they can say anything, do anything... like just for one night they are not trapped in the raging river of fate that is dragging them along.

Just for tonight, he thinks, and kisses her deeply, one hand sliding into her hair. Just for tonight... we have all of time ahead of us...

-----

It must be nearly two in the morning, he reflects vaguely sometime later, as he peers out at the curve of the moon and its position slowly descending towards the west. He's barely been aware of the passage of time; the last few hours have been some of the happiest of his life. Just like she promised... no monsters, no fights, no fears, just them, together, talking about whatever comes to mind, each sentence punctuated by a brush of fingertips against a hand or a cheek, a stolen kiss, a sip of wine...

And of course, the seafood stew, which really is dreadful, but certainly filling.

Karlach leans back in her chair with a heavy, contented sigh. "That was great," she mumbles, and flicks a glance at Hector with a slow smile. "The food and the company."

They've both had a little too much wine, really. Hector's lips have been fixed in a permanent, slightly giddy grin for at least the last hour. All the dark thoughts are far behind him now and he feels as if he is simply drifting, content to be near her, and has been forever, and will be forever still.

"Lovely having a normal evening amid the chaos..." he says quietly.

She smiles wryly. "Whatever do you mean? We're just two normal people... living normal lives... very, very normally."

But she can't maintain the facade again; her voice cracks just a little, and she reaches out abruptly, putting her hand over his on the table.

He stirs slightly, the happy buzz fading as he registers something serious and sad coming into her eyes.

"I know I can't stay forever," she says quietly. There's no attempt at jocular humor this time, no wry deflection or avoidance. Her voice is soft and flat, full of love and full of grief. "Here. With you. In fact, I feel like..." She swallows. "Like I don't have long left at all."

His face spasms with a failed effort to contain the fear that floods through him at those words. Every moment he knows it is on the horizon, and yet hearing her speak of it directly, as something looming even closer than before, feels like a dagger through his heart.

Her hand tightens around his, pulling him a little closer to her. "We've been through so much," she goes on. "And the worst is yet to come. I have every reason to feel terrified, hopeless... like giving up." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly, visibly struggling to keep composure long enough to finish speaking. "But to be here, with you, in the city I love, in this world I love so much... it's all I could really ask for."

She reaches out, cups her hand against his cheek, running her thumb along the edge of his beard. It's an affectionate gesture, of course, but it also serves to pull his face towards her, to nudge open his eyes so they meet hers squarely. "You hear me?" she says, suddenly fierce, her voice cracking again as the emotion starts to overwhelm her. "*You're* all I could ever ask for. I love you... and I know that whatever else this city will throw at us, we can handle it."

He is listening with such fervent attention that he feels a muscle start to ache in his neck. And though his instinct, whenever this topic comes up, is to recoil into grief... this time he forces himself only to listen, to let her words flow through him and strengthen him.

Maybe it will end. But it meant something. It meant everything. It will always have meant everything...

He will have that to hold onto, when the pain eventually finds him. As it will, no matter how hard he tries to look away.

"I love you too," he whispers unsteadily, looking back into her eyes, his gaze heavy with all the love he feels for her. In almost every other moment, he is so careful with what he shows, how he controls himself... but not here. There is nothing hidden, not from her.

She smiles, kisses him again, slow and deep, then rests her forehead against his. "Come on," she murmurs. "There's something I want to show you upstairs."

He has to take a moment and breathe several times before he trusts himself to speak. "What is it?" he asks.

She laughs, only a little shakily. "I rented us a room for the whole night. Just the two of us -- alone, finally."

In spite of the emotional strain of the conversation, he feels a flicker of eager warmth go all through him, and she grins at the expression on his face.

"After you," he says, and pushes himself unsteadily to his feet.

-----

He has only ever experienced their lovemaking in camp. And he had never had anything to complain of. She has always been more wonderful than he would have words to describe, no matter where they are. He wouldn't have thought to ask for more even if it had been an option.

But this... gods. A soft bed and her warmth all over him, the same hungry eagerness that has marked their previous encounters, and yet... slow.

They had claimed to each other that they were going slow, that first night back in the shadowlands - but it wasn't really. It was rushed and desperate, full of need and urgency - both from desire and from the necessary limitations of sex in a camp full of other people.

This... this is slow. They have all night, and no one to bother them, nothing to distract. He is free to take his time, explore every part of her as she explores him. And the look in her eyes as their bodies meld together is something he will never forget if he were to live to be a thousand years old.

He loves her... he loves her... he loves her... and he can feel her on the edge of slipping away from him, but he will carry this with him into the darkness when she is gone.

He loves her and he is losing her and he does not know what he will do without her.

But they have this.

They have this...

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #karlach x tav #long post #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #ok the cute followed by the feelsy... my heart was not prepared for this scene #and this took me like two hours to write because hector is having SO MANY EMOTIONS #and so am i #i am honestly so pleased with how this conversation went because ultimately it was a simple direct speech from her that he needed to hear #he needed to hear her not laugh or brush it off or avoid the topic #and he in turn needed to give her the gift of letting her tell him what she did and let it mean something without all the baggage #also this was one of the most sweet and soft sex scenes i have ever seen in a video game #and it makes me sad i can't screenshot more of it here without risking getting the post flagged XD #anyway it's 1am and i'm a mess #idk if there are like good and bad times to post this stuff but this probably counts as bad XD #also this post is enormous so y'know. never let it be said i don't give bang for the buck content-wise lol

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