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rosieofcorona · 1 year ago

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All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down.

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again.

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning.

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others.

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep.

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone.

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark.

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people.

No trees, no light. No sky.

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them.

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness.

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday.

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else.

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before.

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep.

It starts the same way every time.

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself.

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light.

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet.

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.”

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection.

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.”

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes.

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest.

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has.

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.”

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him.

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.”

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.”

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking.

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible.

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.”

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.”

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.”

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct.

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.”

“Like this?” “Like that.”

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned.

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch.

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved.

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin.

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.”

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his.

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance.

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.”

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always.

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.”

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold.

A focus worth holding, at last.

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says.

“None at all.”

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this.

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

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rotworld · 1 month ago

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2: Spare Parts

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

it seems like you end up stuck next to the same unsettling doll maker every year you attend the sheralothian festival of the arts. if you didn't know any better—if you didn't know him so well—you might assume it was just coincidence.

original work. suggestive but not explicit; contains extremely ambiguous consent, implied/briefly mentioned gore, dollification, fantasy plague.

It’s no easy feat to reach Laurel Grove from the capital. The road is rough and pitted, hateful to wagon wheels. It twists through the mountains and descends into the treacherous fog of the Mistwalk Valley. Bandits, emboldened by newly thawed trade negotiations and a glut of incautious, overencumbered merchants, stalk the spaces between the trees. From caravan to campsite, a flock of apprentices have zealously guarded your crates of precious cargo. You’re tired, all of you, eager for beds, blankets and a proper meal, but also restless with anticipation. At the Sheralothian Festival of the Arts, you’ll make more money for your workshop in a few days than you will for the rest of the year, attracting new patrons and securing new contracts.

The first of your apprentices to spot the sparkle of magic hollers in unabashed delight. The tapestry is a seamless weave of physical and metaphysical components, a shimmery material that blooms with sweet-smelling flowers in the daylight and sparkles luminescent beneath the moon. These adornments wrap around the trunks of trees and dangle from the canopy in thin ribbons, forming a path that guides you across bridges formed of mossy, gargantuan tree trunks and through leaf-canopy shaded streets. Laurel Grove, the Evergreen City, gradually unfolds all around you, not carved into the forest but melding with it.

One of your apprentices rushes off to secure a room at Fiora Falls, an inn tucked behind a waterfall. Another finds boarding for the horses. The rest follow you to the meadow fairgrounds where a ring of tents, stalls and tables has sprung up in a wide circle. You are late arrivals, having traveled further than most. Your fellow artists and craftsmen are happy to see you, exchanging embraces and well-wishes. A space has been saved for you not far from the meadow’s entrance. The apprentices get the crates open, setting up shelves, tables and a canopy. The display on your left belongs to Veta, a woodcarver from the south. She has amber eyes and thickly muscled arms littered with old scars. She waves when she sees you. On your right—

“There, there, darling. Don’t be nervous.”

You freeze. All of your joy and excitement withers and dies because on your right is Medraut.

You consider leaving. You shouldn’t. Can’t, really. But the thought occurs to you. Packing up, turning around, and making the long journey home without a single sale. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. No. He won’t ruin this for you. You focus on helping the apprentices, unpacking fresh flowers, minerals and round jars packed full of colorful dust. Your pigments are the finest in Sheralothia. They’re on temple ceilings and canvases hung in palace halls, staining the palettes of the world’s most renowned painters.

Greta, one of the newer apprentices, glances around in awe at the works of leatherworkers, glassblowers and luthiers from distant lands. Inevitably, her gaze is drawn to Medraut and his eclectic display: heavy tomes. Bows and ribbons. Syringes. Small bowls of cosmetic pigments. Cloudy vials of condensed magic in both smooth liquid and thick ichor. Sewing kits. Everything is arranged around a life-size doll at the front and center, sitting stiffly upright with stocking-clad legs dangling off the edge of the table. It’s undeniably beautiful. Dressed in an asymmetric frilly ensemble, its dainty hands are folded one over the other in its lap, nails neatly trimmed and painted. It has a listless expression, lips pursed and painted orchid purple, neither smiling nor frowning. Glassy lavender eyes are accentuated by long lashes and dabs of glittering blush on the cheeks, half-lidded gaze staring at nothing in particular.

“Hush now,” Medraut murmurs. He tucks a stray lock of hair back into place, looping it behind the shell of the doll’s ear. He caresses its face with the back of his hand in slow, soft strokes, the way one touches a lover. “Yes, I know. You dislike the spotlight. But you’re perfect.”

“Greta,” you say sternly. She flinches, scurrying back to your side with a sheepish expression. “Guests will be arriving at any moment and we’re not finished setting up. Let’s not get distracted just yet.”

“Of course!” she stammers. You offer a smile to reassure her when she rejoins the other apprentices, sifting through pigments and materials to find the most eye-catching objects worthy of display. She’s soon drawn into a gossip huddle with the others, voices lowered, nervous glances thrown around. You don’t stop them. Better she hears it now, however twisted by hearsay and urban legend, than later. You try to focus on preparing for the start of the festival but you keep stealing glimpses at the neighboring tables.

Medraut is deceptively delicate-looking, willowy with bony fingers and slender wrists. He’s cut his hair since the last time you saw him. Shoulder-length now, no longer spilling halfway down his back. He still favors the lavish fashions of the nobility; white silk, billowing sleeves, an obsidian brooch affixed to a lace jabot. Everything he does is graceful and deliberate, from the simple act of movement to the precise way he handles the goods arranged in front of him. He keeps returning to the doll, fussing over it, smoothing out creases in its clothing and refluffing drooping bows. Each time, his hand lingers. A squeeze of the shoulder. A stroke of the hair. A slow slide of the palm against the hollow of the throat, unabashed lust in his eyes.

Not unlike the doll, there is an uncanny, ageless quality to his features, a lack of anything that could easily identify him as young or old. That’s just how it is with mages. He could be thirty or three hundred. There’s no way to tell just by looking. You hear the apprentices discussing it. Trading rumors and throwing out guesses. His portrait hangs in the Hall of Gratitude in Twillisp Castle, his smile forever enshrined along with the other advisors King Kirgar maintained during his reign several centuries ago.

“You’re pulling my leg!” Greta hisses. “He can’t be that old!”

The others insist, “He might be even older.”

“He’s from Ithyr, you know. Some of the oldest mages in the world live there.”

“Lived, anyway.”

“Oh,” Greta says, her eyes wide. “Ithyr? To the west? Isn’t that where…”

“Yes. I think that’s why he’s…like that.”

You share a table. Tall, long and draped with black cloth, this flimsy barrier is all that stands between the two of you. Medraut has already placed a few odds and ends on the side closest to him. Combs and hairbrushes. Perfume bottles. An assortment of scalpels in different sizes, spread out on a velvet cloth. You gather a few of the larger, more inelegant minerals you haven’t had the chance to cut and grind into fine powder, lining them up down the center of the table. You try to do this quietly but Medraut turns the moment you place the first stone. He approaches the table, his smile widening.

“Medraut,” you greet him curtly.

“My dear friend,” he says, the same sensual murmur he spoke into the doll’s ear rolling off his tongue. The slow, undisguised wandering of his gaze up and down your body makes you uneasy. His eyes are stark silver in pools of black sclera like twin moons, the pupils somewhat misshapen; common in survivors of arcanapox. “It seems I have the pleasure of your company again this year.”

You hum in acknowledgement. “I wonder how that keeps happening.”

He tilts his head, glancing at something behind you. You step to the side to block his line of sight and he chuckles softly. “Hm. Bloodshot eyes. Unsteady gait. Shaky hands. You work your poor apprentices hard but you work yourself hardest of all. Would you like to sit down? I brought a chair.”

You place the last stone more heavily than you need to, slamming it down at the end of the table. “You don’t cross this line,” you tell him. “You stay on your side and I stay on mine.”

“Now, now. There’s no need for all that. But if it will put your mind at ease…” He shrugs, leaning against his half of the table with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Really, do you think so poorly of me? Your apprentices are precious, but I’d never steal one away. No matter how lovely they’d look in something other than those dreary robes and aprons you’re all so fond of.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you say, utterly unconvinced.

The slow trickle of the festival’s first guests thankfully diverts his attention. Medraut’s display draws in many curious onlookers and he’s all too happy to explain the history of Ithyrian dollmaking. He comes out from behind the table to stand beside the doll, demonstrating its posable limbs with gentle, coaxing touches. You shouldn’t watch. You have plenty to do. But you keep looking. Keep glancing over and finding him increasingly shameless. Running his hands through the doll’s hair. Stroking its arm. Kneeling once to tighten the laces of its boots and sliding his palm up and down the curve of one long, ball-jointed leg. Up and down. Up and down. Slipping beneath the fluttering edge of its skirt…

You get a few potential customers, too, excitedly chattering patrons of the arts looking for fresh new pigments to supply their preferred painters. A few recognize you from previous years. One particularly discerning man asks if a particular jar of dark dust is used in the creation of “mourning blue,” a rich color becoming increasingly popular in the frescoes of the capital. You’re still not accustomed to being recognized like this, approached with awe and praise. Your whole world is the workshop, turning rocks and plants into colors worthy of royal portraits.

One of your apprentices demonstrates a technique with mortar and pestle, dropping a fistful of flower petals into the bowl. The others stand towards the back and whisper amongst themselves, furtive glances aimed at Medraut.

“How bad was it?”

“Oh, it was dreadful. Haven’t you seen The Death of the Deathless?”

“Gods, that awful thing? I couldn’t bear to look at it!”

“Shhh!”

Silence. You can feel them staring at your back for a moment before the whispers start again, even quieter now.

“It’s true. Our teacher was there when it happened. They apprenticed in Ithyr.”

“They were there? How did they survive?”

“Arcanapox only kills mages. Still, it makes us pretty sick, too. That’s why they have that tremor in their hands."

“Of all things, they painted that?”

“When you see something so awful, you make sense of it however you can.”

“Eyes like hot wax. Eugh.”

“But that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“Mages don’t handle death well. It’s too strange to them.”

“So that’s why…?”

“Yes, to help them grieve.”

“No, that’s just how it started. What they do now, it’s…well, it’s certainly not the same.”

A finely dressed man in a striped, high-collared doublet approaches Medraut’s table with a broad smile. They know each other. Medraut’s face lights up and they greet each other with half-bows, left hands flicking to the side as though to cast a minor spell; a mage greeting. They speak in hushed but excited tones and you should not be eavesdropping, should not care what they have to say to each other. You rearrange the pigments, sorting them alphabetically. You can’t help yourself. You glance over at them again.

The doll is staring at you.

You nearly drop the jar you’re holding, fumbling with the lid. It hasn’t moved at all except for its head, turned towards you. You swallow nervously, bending to pick up the lid of the jar. The doll’s eyes lower, then follow you back up when you stand. You look away, heart pounding.

“How long did it take?” you hear the man ask, sounding awed.

Medraut laughs softly. “Quite some time, but I enjoy the process. This one especially.”

You look at the dirt beneath your feet. The dangling tablecloth. The line of stones. Medraut’s beautiful hand sliding beneath the doll’s arm. Cupping its elbow. Stroking its wrist with his thumb. Sliding their palms together, lacing his fingers with its stiff ones. His face is flushed and his smile is the sort born of fevered delirium, a man dreaming of something impossibly sweet.

“He’s stunning. Simply breathtaking. And the eyes…”

“A fresh set,” Medraut assures him. “I used the portrait you left with me for reference. A perfect match, isn’t it?”

“Yes. This is everything we wanted and more, Medraut. I can’t thank you enough.” The other man grasps the doll’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each finger reverently. “Everything is as it always should have been.”

“As it will forever be,” Medraut says, quiet and solemn. For a moment, neither of them speak. They bow their heads, eyes shut tightly as though willing away an unpleasant memory. Medraut snaps out of it first. He clears his throat, his smile returning. “Let me bring you the case.”

‘The case’ is a large, wheeled box with a handle at the top. The exterior is polished leather, while the inside is ruched white velvet. Like a display case, you think. Like a bed. Like a coffin. Medraut picks up the doll like it weighs nothing and carefully sets it inside, arranging it on its side in a fetal curl. Stray ribbons and folds of fabric are tucked in. One last kiss is pressed to its forehead. The case closes, zipped and latched and locked shut with a key Medraut passes to the man. You can’t look away as he leaves, watching the case rattle through the dirt and grass and far away, vanishing beyond the meadow. You think about it all day. You’ll probably have nightmares about it.

Sunset signals the end of the festival’s first day. You’re exhausted, eager to get off your feet. When did you eat last? You dismissed the apprentices for lunch in turns and they offered to bring you something. Offered, but you said no. Too frazzled by all the people to eat, all the talking you had to do. A sudden wave of dizziness sends you stumbling, careening right into your own display.

Strong, beautiful hands catch you. You are held against silk ruffles. A warm chest. A quickening heartbeat. Medraut lowers you gently to the ground, cradling your head in his lap. The world is blurry but you can tell he isn’t smiling anymore. He wipes the sweat from your brow.

“Teacher!” You hear Greta and the others, your apprentices frantic and wailing. Medraut keeps them at a distance, barks at them not to crowd around you. You rarely hear him so sharp-tongued and terse. He tells them where to find a healer, sends them off for food and water. You breathe shakily, feeling worse than you realized. Medraut shushes you, his thumb catching a tear at the corner of your eye.

“My dear friend,” he whispers.

“Put me down.” You try to squirm away from him but you don’t get far. Medraut turns you over, burying your face against his shirt. “Medraut, I’m serious.”

“You need me,” he says. His voice quivers slightly. “You need me, and you long to be cared for. Treated like a precious, delicate thing. Here I am, my dearest one. Let me take care of you for just a moment.” He rubs your back, pressing his fingertips into muscles you didn’t realize were sore. You don’t mean to relax against him. You want to fight, to push him away, but he hums an old song you haven’t heard in decades and you remember damp summer evenings in Ithyr. The hiss of the ocean and the caw of seabirds. The chalky scent of magic pigment, the way it fizzled on your fingers. Stargazing on your back in a field, your hand joined with another. How you looked at the sky but he only looked at you, spellbound.

“Do they still hurt?” you ask him.

“My eyes?” he says. You nod weakly. “No, dear. Not for a long time.” He strokes your head, gentle, sliding pets that make you feel like young and impulsive again. “I wish you would come to Ithyr again. Stay this time. Do you remember that seat in the bay window? You would sit there for hours with your canvas, watching the tide come and go. You would sit there, so very still.” You shake your head and it’s a lie. Denial and avoidance. Of course you remember. “I want to see you there again,” Medraut whispers, stroking along your spine. “In the sunrise. In the moonlight. As you always should have been, forever.”

That’s how they find you when the apprentices return, still in Medraut’s embrace. Curled up like a sick child crying for relief, wrinkling his shirt with your grasping hands. Only when the healer comes do you manage to pull yourself away. Medraut lets go of you slowly, one finger at a time. You assure him repeatedly you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine. You see him helping your apprentices pack up the pigments, their looks of wary acceptance, leaving his own section abandoned. There is a large box underneath one of his tables. A leather case, shut tight but unlatched. Empty, then. No doll inside. His personal mage seal is stamped on the side.

It’s the same one he brings every time, year after year. Empty, save for desperate dreams and wishes that this time will be different than all the others. That you will finally say yes.

#rotpeach writes #goretober #original #i got a ton of asks today!! will try to get to a few tonight and the rest as soon as im able. thank you for your patience! ;v;#still gotta go back and look at growing shadows now that i actually slept and hopefully make this the year i also post everything to ao3

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deluxewhump · 2 months ago

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Gameday

Early/middle-ish timeline Z2. Zee is taken to a football game and left out in extreme heat.

CW: BBU, deliberate neglect, collared, tied, overheating, heat exhaustion, alcohol, complicit caretaker

It wasn’t until Sunday that Alex would learn all the details of what happened the previous afternoon. He’d been with Claire all day on Saturday, until he left to go to the game. It was August— the start of football season. Fall classes started Monday, and he’d had Claire on his mind lately. He hadn’t seen much of her over the summer, but she seemed as eager to meet back up as he was.

Later, he told himself that was why Zee hadn’t been on his mind at all that day. It didn’t make him feel better.

He didn’t notice that Zee wasn’t there when he stopped off for a change of clothes at the house. He decided to leave his car and Uber, giving him free rein to drink.

He got to the stadium twenty minutes before the game was set to start, the Panthers versus New Sovereignty. It was nearing ninety eight degrees without so much as a gentle breeze to alleviate the oppressive heat. The sun beat down on his head the moment he stepped out of the car, and he could feel a sheen of sweat on his face only a few steps later.

Outside the stadium was a large fountain that was dyed green every St Patrick’s day. Around it, grassy squares were sectioned off with sidewalks. Despite kickoff approaching, there were still throngs of people walking towards the entrance, in line for the various food trucks, and tailgating near their vehicles or under canopy tents.

Paul had texted him that they’d be under one such tent until gametime, and gave him vague directions to find it. He almost walked right by it, but recognized Tyler’s matching set of hot pink camping chairs that usually sat outside on the back porch. It looked like everyone had already cleared out for the game, except some guy he didn’t recognize who was sitting directly next to a bluetooth speaker, beer in hand. He looked wasted, sunglasses askew on his head and his face red from the inescapable heat of the afternoon.

“They head in?” Alex asked him, gesturing to the stadium.

The guy nodded along to the music, but more exaggeratedly so, as a yes to his question. He wouldn’t have seen Zee at all if he hadn’t stopped to open one of the coolers and grab a beer. When he did, he dropped it right back into the cooler. That it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been was only due to the fact that he’d arrived when he had. Another hour or two and it would have been much worse.

“Shit,” he muttered, stepping outside the canopied shade and into the direct heat again. He bent to his knees beside Zee.

Zee flinched away.

“Hey,” Alex said. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

Recognition filled not only Zee’s eyes but his entire posture. He was sitting on the ground, in the sun, wearing long pants, a thick jersey, and a football helmet of all things. Alex pried it off, noticing how his hair was as drenched as if he’d just stepped out of a shower and how red his face was. He had on his thick collar, and a slim cord of climbing rope was tied from the ring to a stake in the ground.

He tried to pull the stake but it didn’t budge. He gave that up quickly, going instead for the knots around the collar. They were tight, and his fingers were slick from the drink he’d taken out of the cooler. He wiped them on his pants and tried again, leaning in and using his teeth to start loosening the knot. He was beginning to wonder if by some miracle he’d find a knife anywhere when it came loose, and he was able to untie it. The rope fell from the collar and he stood up, dragging Zee backwards under his arms into the shade of the tent.

“What the hell is this?” he asked over his shoulder. The only other occupant of the tent was still drinking, still oblivious to everything but his music. He looked their way and shrugged innocently.

Zee lay on his back as Alex reached into the cooler and pulled out a handful of ice. He opened Zee’s right hand and placed it inside, bringing it to his face for him. Zee got the idea and held it against his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. His whimper of relief made Alex’s stomach lurch with useless anger. He rummaged in the cooler for water, but found none. He opened a second one and dug through the ice with the same results.

“Is there nothing but Coors goddam lite in here?” he asked the straggler, who leaned forward and pointed at a third cooler underneath a folding table. He opened it to the blessed sight of bottled water. After pulling Zee back to a sitting position he held it to his mouth to let him drink. Zee dropped the ice and grabbed at the bottle, squeezing it inelegantly so water went not only into his mouth but down his chin and the front of his shirt. Alex peeled the thick polyester jersey from his ribs and up over his head. Zee seemed glad to be rid of it, and leaned back against one of the coolers, half naked and breathing deep deliberate breaths.

"I couldn't get that knot untied," he said. "It was too tight."

He knew better than to ask Zee any questions. He’d likely not get much of an answer. After his first few admissions regarding Cam, he learned quickly that sharing details among the brothers resulted in arguments, and that discord always returned to him eventually, with him painted as some sort of snitch.

“You’re okay,” he said instead. “You’re good now, Zee. It’s okay.”

Inside the stadium, the band began to play. The words of the announcers were too far to make out, but they echoed across the hot air. He picked an icecube off the grass and circled it over Zee’s face. Zee closed his eyes.

“I guess it’s a good thing you’re still sweating,” he said, and Zee nodded as he took another swig of water. He let Alex feel his pulse with untrained fingers, unsure exactly what to look for but compelled to do it anyway. It felt fast. He got up and cast a glance around the tent. The remaining guy was probably too drunk for the game, and volunteered to stay behind with Zee and everyone’s belongings. Zee wasn’t much of a guard on his own if he was tethered to the grass outside the tent like a dog. Except if it was a dog, he thought bitterly, some passerby probably would’ve noticed and helped it by now.

“Hey!” the would-be guard frowned as Alex began rummaging through belongings.

“Shut the fuck up,” returned Alex.

After searching two bags of items that were no use to him, he pulled a handheld mechanical fan from a third. He returned to Zee and held it in front of his face, the tiny blades whirring and blowing his sweat-drenched hair with cool air. For the first time since he’d found him, Zee looked at him directly. A mixture of relief and something else was in his eyes. What that other thing was, Alex wasn’t sure. It might have been where were you? Or perhaps I told you so. Maybe he imagined it entirely, because with his next breath Zee thanked him so earnestly he found himself shushing him and getting a new piece of ice to run over his skin.

“There’s an ambulance by the entrance,” he said, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth than Zee was shaking his head weakly. Alex held the ice midair.

“I can ask them to look at you,” he insisted. “You don’t have to go anywhere with them.”

Still Zee shook his head. “M’okay,” he whispered. He took another swig of water. After second thought, he dumped the rest over the top of his head and closed his eyes. Alex kept the fan on him.

“Do you feel sick?”

“Not now. Just hot.”

When Alex took out his phone to call another Uber, he noticed two missed calls from Paul, probably asking where he was. He had no doubt Paul was one of the ones in the tent who abandoned their boxboy in the heat to go inside. He ignored them, and chose the soonest available pickup. He couldn’t bring himself to put Zee back in the thick jersey he’d found him in, and told him to wait while he walked to a nearby vendors tent and bought him a cotton tshirt. He didn’t think Zee would appreciate being paraded through a crowded event shirtless with that thick collar locked around his neck, even just to get to the curb for the driver. He couldn’t say he would relish the attention, either.

In a crisp New Sovereigns tee, he walked dutifully beside Alex to meet their car. Alex opened the door and let him climb inside first before going into the backseat after him. Zee sat in the middle and slumped over into the far seat, his head pressing against the door.

“Hey,” Alex muttered automatically to the driver. To his dismay, the driver looked in the rearview and turned around, beaming.

“Alex!”

He recognized Alexander Katz from biology lab and forced his mouth into a friendly smile. In that class, Alex was Clair and Alexander was Katz. “You’re missing the game,” Alex said, automatically making casual conversation. It made the entire situation feel worse, somehow.

“Ah, I need a few extra bucks,” answered Alexander. “You’re gonna miss it too, though, by the looks of it.”

Yeah, boxboy duty. My friends left him tied to a stake in record-breaking heat. “My buddy’s drunk,” he lied. “I volunteered to take him back to the house.”

Alexander rolled his eyes knowingly. “Heard that,” he said, and consulted his side mirror before pulling out into the street. He had to stop for a throng of polo-wearing boys and their cowboy-booted counterparts to cross, headed for the stadium. Alex took the opportunity to check on Zee like one might check on an egregiously drunk friend. He was awake and breathing normally now, and Alex noticed he had pulled his new shirt up to hide his collar.

After fifteen minutes of slow gameday traffic and painful smalltalk with Alexander, the car arrived on their residential street near campus, only a mile and a half from the stadium.

Alexander reached back for a fistbump and offered a helping hand with his drunk buddy. Alex declined, saying he was still good enough to walk, just blacked out. Zee played his part, keeping his shirt lifted to hide the collar and looking like a wasted college student might as he stumbled out into Alex’s arm and let him guide him to the front steps. He dropped the shirt the moment Alexander was out of the driveway and stood up straighter, decidedly less drunk-looking. Alex felt more shame than gratitude that he’d played the part he was assigned so willingly. Even in the state he was in, after what he’d just been through. Just to save him some hypocritical sense of embarrassment.

The house was cool. The airconditioning was on, and fans spun lazily in the high ceilings. Zee headed straight for the shower, but Alex asked him to wait. He did so, staring stone faced at the floor as Alex took the stairs two at a time. He returned with his copy of the key he’d negotiated from Cameron, and unlocked the collar so it fell away from Zee’s sweaty neck. He rubbed at the indentation it left, but said nothing.

“Go,” Alex nudged. With his permission, Zee continued to the downstairs bath and turned on the shower.

He sat on the couch for a full five minutes with his elbows on his knees, staring at the muted television. The game they’d just left was on. He couldn’t help but watch for Dominic.

Zee came out of the shower and sat on the sofa, on the opposite end, as far as he could have possibly sat from him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Alex asked gently.

“You saw it,” he said blamelessly.

“Who tied you out like that?”

He was reluctant. “…Does it matter?”

Alex couldn’t look at him. If he pushed, Zee would tell him. But he was right. It didn’t matter who specifically. It was a group effort. He watched the Panther’s coach spat on the ground and make a frustrated hand gesture in the direction of the field. Not one quarter in and the home team was pulling far ahead, just as Alexander had predicted in the car.

“I guess not. Where is Cameron?”

Zee shrugged. With both Alex and Dominic gone, Cameron was Zee’s last line of defense, as dubious as that was. It seemed to be working lately, as much as Alex hated to admit it.

“You can catch most of the game if you go now.”

He forced himself to look at their boxie. He looked better now, if tired and a little sunburned on his forearms. At least that heavy jersey they’d had him in had protected him from more of that. “I’m not going to the game.”

“I’m fine now. Thank you.”

“I’m staying here, Zee. I don’t care about the game.”

They watched in silence as the camera panned the crowd.

“Do you want to come with me tonight? I’m going to Claire’s house.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah. That’s why I asked.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t need to be babysat. Cam will be back soon.”

“That’s not why I offered. Claire likes you. I thought you might want a change of scenery tonight. I’d like you to come with me.”

Zee laid sideways on the sofa, much like he had in the back of the Uber. “Okay.”

Alex stood up. “You need some gatorade, or a snack or something.”

Since it wasn’t a question, Zee offered no reply. And as always when it came to Alex, no resistance.

#bbu #heat whump #complicit caretaker #fits alex better than carewhumper i think #alcohol mention #Alex and Zee #I never give my whumpees medical attention because I don’t know what I’m talking about <3 #you understand #I just fixed like eight typos that didn’t exist before I swear

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roastedoatmilk · 3 months ago

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Toro

Gale Dekarios x Tav (Alys)

Summary: Fly to Miami in the morning we better make this one count

Basically my take on Gale’s act two romance scene (Alys gives gale the best fucking of his life after he bares his heart to her)

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags: slight angst, fluff, breast play, oral (f receiving), body worship, unprotected piv (dont do this be safe yall), alys has a bit of a praise kink. gale and alys being disgustingly in love, alys giving gale the love he deserves

this was also posted on ao3 !!!

A/N dividers by @/cafekitsune gif belongs to @galedekarios also thank you so much to the amazing lexi @ayyy-pee for proofreading this please go check out her works they’re so incredibly good !!!

The last thing Alys expected to see when she entered camp was a mirror image of Gale standing in front of his tent. She walked up to the image curious as to where the real Gale was.

As soon as she stood in front of the image it began to speak, “Good evening! I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep. He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale.”

The invitation intrigued the drow, “Very well, show me the way.”

“Gladly.” The image spoke. “Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him.”

Alys took that as the go ahead and followed the path down to an opening in the forest. There she saw Gale sitting on the grass in the middle of casting some sort of spell that was making the sky various shades of blue and purple. Alys had never seen anything quite like it before, the fact that Gale himself was able to create this filled her with amazement. The sky seemed to change shades often going from darker blues and purples to lighter ones. After making her way over to the brown haired wizard she sits down next to him, her hand almost on top of his own.

“I love this time of night. There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.” The wizard speaks, “ The cradle of eternity, the timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies.”

Alys turns to him and smiles, absolutely enamored with him. “It’s breathtaking, Gale. Is this starry sky your doing?”

Gale smiles back at her, proud of his work. “The curse is still present of course- Just veiled and at arm’s length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is worth it.”

At his admittance to this Alys feels her cheeks warm, the thought that he did this for her made her heart flutter. As she sits next to him she can feel his warmth practically radiate off of him even under the layer of clothes that he had on.

Gale clears his throat before he begins to speak again, “This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder, and with company to match.

After he says the word beauty his head turns to face Alys causing the warmth in her face to burn hot, a dark purple flush making its way onto her cheeks. Gale sure knew all the right words to say to make her fall even deeper for him.

“I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter…but I am not so sure.” Gale’s face falls as he speaks of the heavy burden he carries, finally taking its toll on him.

“Is this truly what you want?” Alys questions her voice soft, “To die for the promise of Mystra’s forgiveness?” She desperately wants to reach out to comfort him,but fears it would spook him.

The frown on Gale’s face deepens at the drow’s questioning, “Babe or crone, coward or hero, death is assured. Mystra’s forgiveness is not. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning?”

Alys frowns at this, her heart aching for the weight of what Gale believes he has to do.

The brown haired man then continues, “I am terrified- I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it.” His voice shakes as he speaks. Alys watches the man bearing his heart to her wishing there was more she could do to lessen this burden. The fact that he believes there is no other way to stop the Absolute than to sacrifice himself makes her heart ache. She mentally curses Mystra for putting Gale in this position, angry with the goddess for placing such a heavy burden onto Gale knowing that he wouldn’t defy her. Alys is determined to convince Gale that there is another way to defeat the Absolute that wouldn’t cost him his life.

“There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms” Gale briefly looks at her, his brown eyes watery.

Alys’ throat constricts, already feeling tears well up in her eyes. “Nothing is inevitable. Not when we face it together. You don’t have to die.” She manages to force out, her voice scratchy.

Gale turns to her with a sad smile on his face, “One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime, and prise the fear from my heart. I’m so very glad you came, to share this with me.” The wizard’s voice is raspy, it’s obvious he is also trying his hardest not to cry.

“I know this is all unreal, but I created it for you. You must know that you’re… That you’re very special to me.” Gale revealing that he did in fact create this for her causes a tear to finally roll down Alys’ light purple cheek, she rushes to wipe away the tear before he could see it.

Gale takes a deep breath before he continues speaking, “If things were different, if we were home, I’d have taken time to do things properly. To say it all better, but time is short.”

Gale turns to Alys and cups her cheek with his hand, “I’m in love with you.” He caresses her cheekbone with his thumb.

“I’m in love with you too.” Alys utters softly, leaning into his warmth.

Gale lets out a chuckle, pressing his forehead against Alys’. “That’s a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.”

Alys giggles at the man, even after opening up and baring his heart to her he still manages to be the same silly wizard she fell in love with. Alys leans forward softly pressing her lips against his to gauge his reaction. He responds by firmly pressing his against her own. Alys lets out a hum at the feeling of his lips finally touching hers. They’re chapped due to being in the elements for so long, but Alys finds that she doesn’t care much. She reaches her hand up to cup the back of Gale’s head pulling him closer to her, she lightly drags her tongue across his bottom lip asking for entrance. Gale immediately opens his mouth to her in response, Alys takes her time exploring his mouth knowing that this could very well be the last time she is able to have him like this. Gale groans when her fingers dig into his hair, her nails lightly scratching against his scalp. He moves his free hand down to grip her hip pulling her closer until she’s practically on top of him. They kept kissing until they inevitably had to part for air, Alys pulled herself away from her lover and grins while gulping down air.

“You’re a good kisser.” The drow giggles, taking in just how beautiful Gale looks right now. His face flushes a bright red, hair ruffled and messy from when she was gripping it, spit slicking his lips making them shine in the moonlight.

Gale lets out a laugh at this, his eyes crinkling up. “And you’re a bad liar. I have lived the life of a hermit for some time before I met you- safer for all, but not conducive to pleasures of the flesh.”

Gale then moves out from under Alys and stands up reaching out a hand out for her to grab, she takes it and lets him help her up. The two can now fully see each other for the first time since she found him in this opening. Taking him in, Alys can’t help but notice a sizable bulge beginning to form beneath the fabric of his pants.

“I want it to be perfect- to bond with you in the way that gods do… Intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave.” Gale utters his voice still raspy but for an entirely different reason now.

“I don’t need illusions.” Alys says her voice sultry as she eyes him hungrily, “I want the Gale standing right in front of me.”

Gale gulps when he sees the look in the drow’s eyes, he feels the tightness in his pants grow painful. He steps towards her and gingerly grabs her hips pulling her to him until she can feel the shape of him press into her lower stomach. Alys once again cups the back of the wizard’s head and crashes her lips onto his, their teeth knocking together from the sheer force of her kiss. His lips fit so perfectly against her own as if he was truly made for her, Alys sighs against his lips pressing even harder against him. Gale groans and grips Alys’ hips tightly, moving his lips against hers. Alys feels a fire light in her core, a wet patch beginning to form in her underclothes. She lets out a moan as Gale trails his hands under her shirt meeting her warm, light purple skin when he grabs her bare hips. She pulls her lips away from his, causing him to let out a whine. Alys laughs at him before she grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head baring her breasts to the man in front of her, having forgone her chest wrap that evening. Alys shivers as the cool night air brushes against her bare chest, gooseflesh prickling up her arms. She never quite got used to just how cold being above ground can be.

Gale steps back his eyes wide as he takes the sight of her bare chest in, Alys focuses her eyes on one of the trees in the distance suddenly self conscious. It had been quite some time since she was last with someone in this way, as she begins to move her hands to cover her chest Gale grabs ahold of them preventing her from covering herself up.

“You are…. Magnificent, please don't shy away from me.” Gale rasps and then pulls her back towards him leaning his head down to begin placing kisses on the side of her neck.

Alys lets out a small moan reaching to dig her fingers into Gale’s hair, the feeling of his facial hair scratching against the sensitive skin of her neck has her pussy drooling. Nobody had ever touched her this gently, most of her past experiences were rough and quick but Gale is taking his time with her…Worshiping her. Gale’s kisses move down from her neck to her collarbones, he scrapes his teeth against the skin leaving behind dark purple blotches in his wake. Alys knew her companions would have something to say about the marks come morning but she couldn’t find it within herself to care at the moment. Alys let out small moans each time Gale drags his teeth against her skin, her fingers gripping his hair tighter the farther down her chest he moves. Gale makes his way down to the valley of her breasts kissing down the middle before moving to press kisses against the fat of her right breast. Gale moves one of his hands that were gripping the drow’s hips up to grasp the unoccupied breast kneading the tissue with his fingers. Gale closes his lips around Alys’ right nipple causing a wail to tear through her throat echoing throughout the empty woods. Alys can already feel sweat starting to slicken her skin making it practically glow in the moonlight.

Gale removes himself briefly from her nipple to groan out, “Yes my love, let me hear you.” before returning to working on the bud.

His fingers start tweaking the nipple that isn't occupied with his mouth, groaning around her as he feels his bulge strain against his pants begging for friction. Gale releases Alys’ nipple with a pop before standing up and leading her to the blanket they had sat on earlier. He lightly nudges her to lay down whispering in her ear, “Lay down my gorgeous girl, let me worship you the way you deserve.”

Alys feels a pang in her core at the praise causing her to let out a whimper, she lays down on the blanket her dark blue fanning out behind her after having freed it from its usual ponytail for the night. Gale moves to hover over her pressing a few firm kisses to the drow’s lips before making his way down Alys’ body until he was face to face with her pants covered core. She can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. The brown haired man hooks a finger under the garment before looking up at her silently asking if it was okay for him to remove them. Alys props herself up on her forearms looking down at him and nods her head.

“I need you to use your words my love.” Gale breathes, eager to finally please her.

“Please Gale I need your mouth on me.” Alys begs, her mind already cloudy with want. A deep purple flush having completely taken over her cheeks and ears.

Gale chuckles before sliding the drow’s pants and underclothes down her hips in one go, he gets them about half way down before Alys gets impatient and kicks them the rest of the way off herself. The wizard grins at her eagerness. He watches as she spreads her legs open revealing her dripping core to him. Gale’s breath hitches at the sight before him, he leans in and presses his cheek to her inner thigh as he takes a deep inhale his eyes roll to the back of his head as he gets high on her scent . Alys lets out a gasp at the feeling of his warm breath so close to her intimate parts, her hand reaching to pet the brown locks of her love. Gale groans and buries his face into her core using his tongue to trace a line from her hole to her clit, the taste of her quickly becoming his favorite thing in the world. Alys all but yells out a moan at the feeling of his tongue on her and grips his hair with such force that if she were in a better state of mind she would fear she was hurting him. She had never felt pleasure like this before outside of the alone time she had with herself, her previous lovers tending to get straight to the main event not taking the time to warm her up most of the time.

If it was hurting him, Gale took no notice if anything the pain all but spurred him on, he hooks his arms under her thighs as he continues to feast on her. Gale moves his lips to wrap around the bud near the top of her mound making Alys keen, her back arching. The wizard lets out a grunt into her cunt as he feels more of her essence flood into his mouth, he traces a finger around the drow’s hole before dipping the very tip of it in and pulling it back out.

Alys groans tears welling in her eyes, “Gale, please don’t tease me. I need to feel you.” she cries.

Gale hums against her in response and slips a single finger inside her, letting her get used to the feeling. Alys gasps at the intrusion. The wizard’s finger is much thicker than her own reaching parts of her that she can’t manage to on her own. After a moment, Gale slips another finger into her causing a whimper to come from the woman above him. Two of his fingers equaled three of her own, the stretch causing a delicious burn. He continues sucking on her clit while she gets used to the stretch. Before long Alys starts to buck her hips into his face indicating that she wants more, the wizard smirks and begins to pump the two fingers in and out of her curling them in a come hither motion on their way out. The tips of his fingers pressed against that spongy spot inside her that causes Alys to cry out, bursts of pleasure shooting throughout her body. She can feel the tension in her core starting to tighten, her body heating up. Her chest heaves as Gale slips a third finger in alongside the other two making Alys arch even farther into his face, he can tell she’s close by how her pussy clenches. It only takes a few more pumps of his fingers and a hard suck on her clit for the tension in Alys’ core to snap her pussy spasming around Gale’s fingers. Alys practically sees stars as her release washes over her, her thighs squeezing Gale’s head. He moans into her cunt as the taste of her orgasm fills his mouth.Gale continues to fuck her with his fingers as she rides out her high. After a few moments Alys twitches her hips back to try and get him away from her sensitive core, Gale gets the hint and removes his fingers as softly as he can causing her to let out a whimper at the emptiness of her core.

Gale moves back to sit on his haunches and licks his fingers clean of her slick, savoring the taste and Alys thinks that shes never seen a man look so fucking attractive before. Alys’ chest heaves and she tries to calm her fluttering heart, her blue hair plastered to her forehead. When she takes in the sight of her lover who is still fully clothed, his hair looks like he just went through a windstorm with how crazed it was. The entirety of the lower half of his face was covered in her juices, the sheen of it glistening in the moonlight. Alys’ face burns in embarrassment as she realizes that she was the one who made him look this way.

“Gods Gale, where did you learn how to do that?” Alys croaks, her cunt still twitching with aftershocks.

Gale cackles his head, tipping back, “I had plenty of time to read while in my tower; perhaps I picked up a thing or two.” The wizard says with a smug smile on his face.

Alys looks at the man before her and smiles. “C’mere you.” She giggles, reaching for him.

Gale pulls off his clothes until he is as bare as her before he moves to hover over the drow. The hairs on his chest lightly brush against Alys’ sensitive nipples making her whimper. Propping himself up on his arms he looks down at Alys admiring just how stunning she looks like this, he knows that if this is indeed his last night he wouldn’t want it any other way being here with her makes him feel complete. Alys notices the wizard being lost in thought, cupping his face in her hands.

“I love you Gale of Waterdeep so, so much.” She sighs, caressing his face. Alys was determined to let Gale know just how loved he was so that if he does indeed decide to go through with what Mystra has asked of him, he would know that he was adored up until the very end by the blue haired drow and the rest of their companions.

Gale feels tears once again well up in his eyes, never having felt so wholly and completely loved before. He sniffles before replying “I love you more than all of the stars in the galaxy my beautiful, beautiful Alys.”

Alys smiles before gently pulling him down to kiss her, their lips perfectly melding together. “Now make love to me underneath the stars that you most graciously created for us.” She breathes against his lips.

Gale smiles and reaches down between them to grasp himself, groaning at the feeling of his hand on his neglected cock. He strokes himself a few times before lining himself up at her entrance and slowly pushing himself into her. Alys gasps at the intrusion, the feeling of his cock stretching her was intoxicating. Gale keeps pushing in until his hips press into the patch of blue hair that sits just above Alys’ core. He stills for a moment letting the drow adjust to the feeling of him inside her. Alys keens at the feeling of being filled to the brim, the weight of him inside her drove her insane. The feeling of her walls clenching around him has Gale gritting his teeth trying to will himself to not cum right in that moment. After a bit Alys starts to grind her hips into his, indicating that she wants him to move. The wizard drags his cock out until just the tip remains before thrusting back in. Gale does this a few more times before he finds a rhythm, his engorged cock perfectly hitting that spot inside Alys each time he pushes back inside. Alys lets out high pitched moans each time his tip brushes against it, pleasure shooting throughout her body.

A chorus of moans come from the two of them as they make love, echoing through the woods. Alys’ hands grip onto the pale skin of Gale’s back, her nails digging into the flesh. Gale buries his head into Alys’ neck groaning at the sound of skin slapping against skin. He fucks into her with abandon reveling in her moans and the feel of her against him. Alys moves to push her hand against his chest and before Gale could question her, she wrapped her legs around him and flipped the two of them over. The sight of his love on top of him, her purple sweat slicked skin shining in the moonlight stole the breath from Gale’s lungs.

Alys herself wasn't faring much better, the tip of Gale’s cock hit so much deeper from this angle making the lower half of her body tingle. Placing her hands firmly on his chest, her fingers brushing against the bottom of where the mark of the cursed orb is. Alys begins to grind her hips against his, her legs still slightly shaking from her last orgasm. Taking a moment to get the hang of being the one on top. Before long she lifted her hips before sinking back down onto him, gasping as he bottoms out. Alys soon finds a rhythm that hits all of the right spots, the drag of Gale’s cock against her walls making her toes curl. She begins to ride him with abandon, her head tipped back, moans steadily falling from her mouth.

Gale’s grip on her hips was bordering on painful which only fueled Alys more, bouncing on him even harder. The wet smack of skin on skin echos through the forest, anyone within ten feet of the two would be able to tell what they were up to. The familiar tightness in her core makes a reappearance, Alys reaches her hand down to rub circles on her clit only to have Gale bat her hand away and replace it with his own. The wizard rubs fast, tight circles on the nub causing Alys to whine at how good it felt. Gale whimpered at how Alys clenched down on him as he did so. He can feel that his own end is near but is determined to make Alys cum once more before he does. The drow lets out a shriek as he plants his feet firmly on the ground and begins to fuck up into her causing Alys to dig her nails even deeping into his chest leaving red lines in her wake. Alys feels the pressure in her core tighten even further before it snaps, she wails as sparks shoot over her entire body. Gale grunts as Alys tightens around him, it only takes a few more thrusts before he too reaches his peak filling her with ropes and ropes of his warm cum.

The two lovers gasp for air as they both come down from their highs, Alys slumps down on top of Gale resting her head on his chest. Gale wraps his hands around her pulling Alys closer to him, rubbing his hands against her back to soothe the both of them. It takes a few moments for either of them to form any sort of thought, Alys smiles against the chest of her love soaking in the moment. She wishes that they could stay in this moment forever and not have to worry about the tadpole swimming around in their brains, defeating Ketheric Thorm, or what Mystra had requested of Gale. She feels a sadness gripping her chest as she thinks of what is to come in the next few days, tears stinging her eyes. Alys clears her throat telling herself to focus on the now, to focus on being with Gale.

“Gods Gale I think you may have to carry me back to camp.” Alys giggles, her throat burning as she holds back tears. The drow not able to feel the lower half of her body, her legs feeling like jelly as she tries to move them.

“My love I’m not sure either of us are able to walk at the moment.” Gale laughs, pressing his cheek into Alys’ deep blue hair.

Alys perks her head up so that she can look at him and the second the two make eye contact they burst into laughter. The thought of both of them stumbling back to camp was a hilarious one indeed. Alys props her head up on her hand tracing the other one across Gale’s chest playing with the hair there. In all the time that she has known him she’s never seen him as relaxed and at peace as he is in this moment. His hair a mess, strands glued to his forehead by sweat, the flush on his face, the starry look in his eyes. Alys falls even deeper in love with Gale of Waterdeep in that moment. Her mind raced, thinking of how different her life would be if she had never pulled him out of that rock portal.

“Well I suppose you couldn’t conjure up a blanket and some pillows for us could you?” Alys sighs, “I think we may be here for a moment.”

She can feel the rumbling of Gale’s chest against her cheek as he chuckles, he kisses the top of her head before grabbing onto her hips before lifting her up off of him. Alys lets out a hiss at the feeling of his cock exiting her, her walls now convulsing around nothing cum starting to spill out of her. Gale tenderly lays her down before sitting on his haunches to conjure up some blankets and pillows for the two of them. They were in fact going to be there for a while.

The next morning when the two arrived back at camp completely disheveled, a handful of their companions groaned before reaching into their things to grab some gold and gave it to a very smug looking Astarion and a mildly disgusted Lae’zel.

A/N i hope y’all enjoyed this please lmk what y’all think of alys and gale 😼

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vulpixisananimal · 5 months ago

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"Can you see it from there!!"

(You were all taking a break from walking, it had been a very long day, but! With a bit of luck! You could sleep somewhere that wasn't in a tent! That's why Siffrin, wait, not Siffrin, was up in a tree, having climbed it before anyone even asked.)

"Patience, 'Bella" (Nille replied. She had been comparably fine with the travels.)

"O-oh, right."

(Oh Mirabelle, you should really be used to this by now. You had traveled for what, a whole year before this? You should be used to the long walks and dusty roads.)

(Mal Du Pays jumped off the branch they were hanging from and hopped to the ground with a huff. It tapped its eyes with its fingers and nodded. "I saw it.")

"W-well, if that's the case then we should get going!" (You say, excited. Finally, a nice bed!)

"Hmmmmm, how far away is it though?" (Nille asks.)

(There's a delay before Mal replies, it sighs. It makes two fists and pulls them apart, then makes an x with its arms. "It's far, we should rest.")

"O-oh. . ." (You say, disapointed, b-but, that was ok! One more night out here would be fine!) "You'll be ok with that?"

(It looked at you, nodded, then walked off.)

"pleasant. . ." (Nille said sarcastically, then sighed.) "No, I shouldn't say that."

"I-it's fine, w-we'll get used to it." (You had to admit, Siffrins mental health situation was. . . Complicated. Their memory only got worse, and Mal wasn't exactly easy to work with. Although, it was a small miracle everyone knew sign language already. Either from House of Change classes, defender lessons, looking out for neighbors, or just by Being Odile.)

(You'll get used to it. You and Nille head back to where everyone was resting up to relay the news.)

(Boniface was looking for cool rocks, Odile had found a place to sit in the shade and read, and Ramos and Isabeau where chatting about something. Mal had already disappeared, probably into the woods to be alone.)

"We'll make it there tomorrow, it looks like!" (You say, finding a place to put down your pack.) "S-sorry."

"No need to apolagize, Mira!" (Isabeau says, cheerfuly.) "There's no problem with one more night in the woods!"

"Bugs, Isa, that's the problem." (Ramos replies, crossing their arms) "It's bugs."

(Isabeau grinned.) "What, is it bugging y-"

"BAD!"

"HAHA!!"

(You giggle. Ramos was. . . Interesting. Still not sure what to make of them. No time to worry about that now, though. Time to get ready for a long night. Oh and you were REALLY looking forward to a nice bed too.)

(You perk your head up. What was that?)

"You ok, 'Bell?" (Bonnie asks, they had a pile of rocks in their arms.)

"Huh?" (You turn to them.) "O-oh! Yes just, did you hear anything just now?

"Wha?" (Bonnie squinted at you.) "Bird? You mean the birds?"

"N-no! Like, someone? I think?"

"Nuh uh." (They shook their head.) "It wasn't those two?" (Bonnie gestured to Ramos and Isabeau.)

"N-no! It wasn't them either!"

"Hehe, was it an imaginary friend?"

"No!!!" (You huff. Bonnie finally relents, going to help Nille set up a fire pit for dinner. You go back to setting up your own tent.)

(. . . There it was again. You ignore it.)

(. . .)

(Aaaaaand again?)

(. . . . . . . . . .)

(Ok that's it. You stand up, and start walking to the woods.) "I-I'll be right back!"

"Don't get lost!" (Isa calls back.)

(R-right. . .)

(You couldn't quite place that sound. It sounded like. . . A cry for help, a wail, and someone saying hello all at once. It was weird. You carefuly walked through the wood, trying not to get your dress caught on branches and such.)

(It was getting so dark, the canopy above you got thicker and thicker, blotting out the evening sky. It was amazing, honestly, seeing how the world itself was changed by nothing but trees.)

(The sounds got louder.)

"Hellloooooo?" (You call out. No response.)

(Could someone be in trouble? Or hurt??? Maybe they've been trapped in these woods for weeks! O-or, or maybe it was that stranger again! What was it's name. . ?)

(You walk a little bit more, stopping at a tree for a moment. What a thick forest. You're so glad there was a road, it would be so much slower trying to go through this thicket. Maybe if you stay here for a minute you can find-)

(What's that smell?)

(You sniff the air, there was a weird smell. Wait, was it mint??? No, no it wasn't mint, it was so overwhelming all of a sudden! Why so fast!! It's-)

(Your heart skips a beat. You look up.)

(Sugar!)

(You jump away from the sadness as it crashes down on where you were standing. You draw your sword, thank Change you didn't leave it behind!! Oh no, what do you do!! C-c'mon Mirabelle!! You've fought a lot of sadness' before!! J-just, just take a second and. . .)

"HELP!!! SADNESS!!!" (You yell. Please hurry, friends!!)

(The sadness looks at you, as if it's staring into your soul, before screaming.)

(You wince at the sound, but grip your sword! You strike, yelling as you lash out at the sadness with your weapon. The strike leaves a gash, but nothing more.)

(The sadness tilts its head at you, and screams again, bringing a claw down on you. You block it with your sword.)

"A-ANYONE!!!!"

(You hear someone reply, but it was too far away. Just, j-just a little bit more, Mira! You throw up a hand! Artsy Silent Burst!!!)

(It glances off the sadness, barely doing anything.)

(The sadness growls angrilly, before clapping its hands together and screaming. You wince again, what the Change was that?!? You ready yourself again and-)

(Just then, a blur of white sprints past you, it was Mal!! It brandished its dagger and sliced and stabbed at the sadness again and again and again!!)

(Only for each blow to be deflected. Mal du Pays jumped back, for the first time you see it shocked.)

"I-It. . . It didn't do anything?!?" (You craft your spell to make your friend stronger!) "Is anyone else-"

"HERE!! I'M HERE!!!" (Running past you before you could stop them, Ramos dashed at the Sadness with their tonfas and struck out. This time it actually connected! it didn't do much but it connected!!)

"Careful!!" (You run up to Ramos.) "where's everyone else!!"

"Catching up!" (Ramos clenched and unclenched their hand.) "I hit it's weakness and still did blinding nothing."

"It's real strong, be careful!!"

(Mal was circling around the Sadness, it attacked with a fist and dagger, this time making contact with the sadness, it screamed.)

(It looked at Mal, it had hatred in it's eyes.)

(Mal Du Pays was frozen in time.)

"NO!!!!"

"W-WHAT THE?!?!?"

(Your heart dropped. No, no no no no. That's, that's not possible!! You beat the king!! You unfroze the country! You fixed everything!! But you never learned how to unfreeze people!!! You, you couldn't fix this!!!)

"That's, that's, that's-" (Ramos looked petrified seeing Mals frozen stare. R-right, they where probably frozen too back before you beat the King.)

(Wait!! You did have something!! You clap your hands.) "T-this'll stop you being frozen, b-but. . ."

". . ." (Ramos looked between you and the sadness, that confidence they came into the battle with quickly fading.) "I-I, I might have an idea."

"Is it a good one?"

"N-no way, but. Oh crab it!!" (Ramos gritted their teeth and charged forward, with a yell they struck the sadness on the head with their rock/scissors sign.)

(There's a moment where both stop. You smell a little bit of mint- mind craft?!?)

(Ramos had refrained from developing their mind craft, the most they ever did was Odile asking to see some of it. They knew it left a bad taste in Siffrin's mouth, so. . .)

"OW OW OW OW OW OW-" (Ramos collapses back, clutching their head, as the sadness wails clutching it's own head in turn.)

"MIRABELLE!! RAMOS!!" (That was Isabeau! You turn, he, Nille, Bonnie, and a bit further behind, Odile, where running up to join in. Isa gasped seeing Mal.) "WH- WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?"

W-woah!!" (Nille brandished her hammer, standing between you and the sadness.)

"GET OUTTA HERE!! STUPID!! GRABBING SADNESS!!!" (Bonnie stood next to their sister, yelling all kind of things at the strong sadness.)

"C-careful!! It froze Mal in time!!" (You yell, getting up.) "I-if we beat it then maybe we'll, w-we-"

(The sadness. . . Ran away?)

"Uh. . ."

"What???"

"Gems. . ."

"YEAH!!! KEEP RUNNING!!!"

(You breathe in, and out.)

(Mirabelle is now level 47. . . And learned the skill "Lovely Moving Cure!")

(Ramos is now level 21.)

(You feel dizzy, and sick, Oh Change what just happened!?!? Y-you, Change, oh you- YOU NEED TO UNFREEZE MAL!!!)

"M-mira!!" (Isabeau was already by your frozen friend as you got over there.) "C-can you, fix? It?"

"I-I, I think I can! If, if I just, do this. . ." (You take a breath, and hold out your hands. Please unfreeze please unfreeze please unfreeze. . .)

(Your friend gasps and collapses to their knees, they're coughing and shaking.)

"Oh thank Change that worked!!" (You kneel down next to them, Isabeau joining you.) "A-are you alright?!? Do you need a heal?!??"

"W-where. . ." (They shook their head. Not Mal?) "Uh, what, where, am I? What. . ."

"Easy, easy. Who's around right now?" (Isabeau asked softly.)

(They look up at you, then at Isabeau, then back at the ground.) "Uh, Siffrin, i-it's just me, what, uh. . ."

"I-I, I got attacked by a sadness a-and, and screamed for help and Mal came from nowhere to help but, b-but got frozen in time and I was, I-If, if you. . ." (You're hyperventilating. If you, if you hadn't figured out how to unfreeze them, then, then, t-then--)

"Relax, 'Bella." (Nille came over and knelt down next to you.) "Take a breath, you saved the day again, held your own too against that thing!"

"I-I, I guess so. . ." (You breathe in, and out. Just like Sif does. You were already calming down.)

"What was that sadness?" (Odile sat down by a tree, clearly winded from running here.) "It looked similar to sadness near the house of change, rather than. . ."

(Ramos looked away.)

"Maaaaybe it's lost?" (Said Sif, he leaned back onto Isabeau.) "Or it's a fan."

"Some fanclub." (Isabeau sighed, gently patting Siffrins head.) "It's still around though, isn't it?"

"It smelled really bad." (Bonnie adds.) "Stinking of sugar, toooo much sugar."

"You? Saying it's too much sugar?" (Nille jokes.) "Can't be possible."

"HEY!!!"

(You all laugh. Even if it was scary, you all get a chance to laugh. What a great family you have.)

". . . I, hate to be the one to say it," (Odile stands up.) "We cannot sleep here tonight."

"Good point."

"Agreed."

"I-if we hurry, we should make it before it gets dark."

"Fingers crossed. . ."

(It was going to be a long walk.)

#ngl this one i feel isn't that strong. sometimes you get those chapters #art #isat #in stars and time #isat art #isat spoilers #isat fanart #siffrin system au #sifstem #isat au #isat siffrin #isat fanfic #isat mal du pays #isat nille #isat bonnie #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat ramos #isat odile

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libraford · 4 months ago

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The takeaways from today's photography adventure:

1. All my friends are gorgeous.

2. Late morning sun is almost as bad as noon sun in regards to photos.

3. If you're going to have performers inside a tent, the canopy is better off being a neutral color (preferably white, so that sunlight diffuses.)

4. I am so pleased to now have some flamenco in my portfolio.

5. No shade to modern dance, but it's a challenge to photograph because half tge company will be posing dramatically while the other half is doing some nonsense with a cane and I only have room in my view for one of yall.

6. Everyone thinks my brand new mirror less camera is 'vintage' because the lens is and older style.

7. 'Vintage digital camera' is a phrase which reminds me of my crumbling bones.

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nyxhaven · 1 year ago

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Beneath the peaches (halsin x gn tav)

As Halsin's concern for Tav's absence deepens, he embarks on a search through a vast peach orchard, the worry gnawing at his heart. However, what he discovers beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree is far from what he expected. Amidst the lush surroundings, a playful rendezvous unfolds, filled with laughter, flirtatious banter, and moments of stolen affection, all against the backdrop of the beautiful orchard.

(SMUT 18+ minors DNI. s!ze d!fference, breed!ng, oral (halsin receiving) teasing, loving)

(had this on repeat while writing😣🙃.)

Halsin's initial worry had been a heavy weight on his chest as he paced the camp mid-day, inquiring with his fellow companions about Tav's whereabouts with a furrowed brow, but no luck. It felt like an eternity since he'd last seen them. double-checking Tav's tent still nothing. he noted a small footpath that leads down the backside of the hill. His heart lightened when he ventured out of camp and stumbled upon the breathtaking sight of the seemingly endless peach orchard.

The leaves above cast dappled patterns of sunlight and shade as he wandered through the orchard, Halsin enjoyed seeing every part of nature, a reason he’s been so happy traveling with Tav. The canopy of leaves made the whole place feel like a hidden sanctuary. Halsin's relief swelled as he finally spotted Tav, their form a small silhouette against the massive tree.

Tav was nestled comfortably under the shade, sprawled out on a soft blanket with one leg bent at the knee, engrossed in a weathered tome. Halsin couldn't help but smile at the sight of his beloved, their hair catching the sun's golden rays.

Approaching quietly, he bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Tav's forehead. "My heart," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress. "I've been searching for you. It's been too long since you've graced our camp with your presence."

Tav's eyes lit up, their smile radiant as they closed the book. "Darling, you know I can't resist a good book and a quiet spot when the world gets too loud."

Halsin settled down beside Tav on the soft blanket, his fingers brushing against their hand. Their bodies lay close, fitting together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Tav's laughter was like music to his ears, and the worry that had clouded his mind earlier now felt like a distant memory. Halsin lay with Tav as they read aloud to him.

Gazing up at the colossal oak tree, Halsin spoke with sincerity, "The beauty of this tree reminds me of you. Strong, enduring, and a source of endless wonder."

Tav chuckled, their fingers tracing patterns on Halsin's arm. "Flattery will get you everywhere with me, my love."

As they continued to chat, their banter turned into a playful flirtation, their words filled with affection and desire. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant calls of birds added a symphony of nature to their conversation, deepening the connection between them.

Halsin's eyes sparkled as he plucked a ripe peach from a nearby branch, the sweet fragrance of the fruit filling the air. "I think the Oak Father would appreciate this offering from his bountiful land."

Tav accepted the peach with a smile, and with the skill of a seasoned adventurer, they sliced it open with a dagger. "And I appreciate you, darling." Leaning in, they offered Halsin a piece of the peach, Halsin's lips brushing against Tav's fingers. he pulls his finger back, and a small string of saliva and sugar breaks. Tav leans into the golden embrace of Halsin. Their kiss was sweet, tasting of juicy peach, Halsins armed snaked around Tav's waist pulling them onto his lap and straddling him. His hands held the back of Tav's head pulling them in. Tav's small hips sit in his wide pelvis. The size difference between them was shown in the intimate moment.

Halsin's large hand wraps help Tav's head snuggly. His legs bend coming up to hold Tav on his lap as they make out. Tav pulls back from the kiss resting his weight back on Halsin’s hips, placing their hands on Haslin’s barrel chest Tav takes a breath. Halsin pushes his back out of his face taking his shirt off. “sorry love these clothes never help anything you know that.”

Tav waits for Halsin to take his shirt off before holding their arms up. Halsin gets the idea and undresses tavs top. the warm summer breeze flows down the line of peach trees cooling off the sweat beads down Halsin's body. Tav can’t help but stare at Halsins bare chest and how his hair all trails down his body past his navel into the bush of hair peeking out his waistband.

Halsin's large biceps wrapped around Tav flipping them, Halsin lay on top of Tav, Holding himself up on his elbows. his hair falls in front of his face. Halsin grabs the peach and takes a big bite letting the sugary nectar drip down his lips and chin. Tav licks the trail of nectar off his face placing a kiss on his lips.

Tav isn’t unaware of the growing bulge in Halsin’s pants but likes to tease Halsin by prolonging anything as long as they can a small bit of foreplay they enjoy. Halsins is always so quick to give in to nature's instincts. Halsin lays deep hickeys on Tav's delicate neck. Tav’s moan purs as Halsin’s sweet lips pressed to their skin.

Halsin's neediness urges him to grind his bulge along Tav's thigh. Tav bites halsins bottom lip pulling their face away “Don’t be too impatient, be patient for me and I’ll make sure my cub gets rewarded.” Something about Tav's words sends halsins breath into the next gear panting wanting more, his eyes begin to glow a bright yellow the same golden light that shines through the canopy above you. “calm” Tav whispers, caressing halsin’s cheek and temple.

Halsin's eyes fade back to his natural soil brown. Tav slightly giggled blushing a fair red. “What's the matter my heart.” Halsin wonders.

“Nothing, just seeing you get heated up like that is cute. I’m so proud of you for staying under control.” Halsin's cheek turn a merry red from the praise. “now

lay back down for me please.” Halsin follows the command and lays on his back. Tav gives him a look at his pants that those are not staying on. lifting his hip, Tav pulls the waist of his trousers down. springing out, halsin’s cock slaps against his skin, his musk of the day's travels waft in up in the air. Tav's mouth salivates at the sight of halsin’s erection. Halsins cock was thick and olive-toned with a set of strong balls on him. surrounded by a full bush of dirty blonde hair.

Tav lays between his large thighs, licking from the bottom of his shaft up to the under of his tip. Halsin’s legs wraparound tav holding them in place. Tav licks, kisses,

tempts but never actually yet takes halsin into their mouth. placing his head on their lips tracing it along the bottom lip up to the top. laying his cock in their face. “my god it’s like half my face.” tav teased knowing Halsin’s doing everything he can in him to keep calm and not beg. Throbbing at this point, precum soaks the tip of him.

“you’re just being mean at his point.” Halsin whines.

Giving in Tav takes the head of him into their mouth. Starting at the underside of his crown and dragging his tongue around wetting the tip and collecting the precum, before bobbing on the penis. using their hand tav jacks the shaft off halsin off while focusing on the tip with their tongue. removing their lips with a pop. Tav takes a big bite from the peach before using its juice to place sticky sweet kisses along the shaft and balls of halsin. rec tracing their steps with their tongue. they take halsin into their mouth fully.

Halsin feels the stick kisses so tenderly on this hot summer's day, As Tav takes him into their mouth halsin feels a sudden sense of being star-studded. his hips begin to rock into Tav's mouth pushing himself in. “good job, just a little more.” he says pushing in till his nose is pressed into his pelvis. letting out a deep roar of pleasure. Halsin releases the first wave of his orgasm pumping warm semen into the back of Tav's throat.

“That's right my heart, swallow it…all of it”

Tav pulls back swallowing the first of Halsin’s load, Tav is in a sense all loving pleasure is ready for more. Halsin grabs the small frame of Tav and flips them onto their back, resuming the position they started in. Halsin's figure moves downwards. He forms his hand into a sharp claw before using its talons to gently cut away your trousers. gods how much Halsin hated the confines of clothing.

Tavs sighs as their clothes are cut away, thinking not again. halsin’s large hands spread across their hips. delicately holding them. he wraps his legs around his hips pulling them closer he leaves small nibbles and love marks down their chest. marking them as his, he wants your companions to know what he can do.

"Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to." tav says purring to halsin’s touch.

His cock still hard and ready he teases Tav's hole the same way they teased him dragging it along their folds, rimming your hole with his head. still sticky from your lips he enters you, stretching you out taking his time, halsin knows he’s large.

A loud moan escapes Tav's lips as they grind their hips trying to get deeper, Tav closes their eyes riding the wave of pleasure as Halsin starts to set a strong pace.

"Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me."

Tav opens their eye to Halsin thrusting in them as he ties up his stray hair behind his head. grabbing your leg he lifts it to his shoulder. going in further, Tav moans loudly as Halsin places sweet kisses on their neck continuing to fuck Tav, Tav's breath quickens, and their knees begin to buckle, Halsin holds their lower back for support as he stretches Tav out. a strong breeze blows again cooling the sweat built up between you too a nice respite during the moment.

Halsin leans back, pushing his hips in more bringing himself to his hilt inside Tav, a small bulge in your stomach appears as Halsin’s large member thrusts into Tav, and a sudden rush of pleasure comes over Tav making their orgasm come crashing in, a flurry of moans slips tavs mouth. “Wait—uh—do…do that again.”

Halsin follows, slamming into tavs pleasurable spot. another orgasm follows through Tav. “don’t hold back” Halsin whispers.

halsin’s breath becomes more haggard, barely out together. his hands clench your hips as he slams a final couple of times releasing himself into Tav. filling tav with warm fluid. he pulls out spilling his fluids out of Tav before pushing them back in with his twitching cock. halsin plays with his overstimulated cock pushing his cum back into Tav watching their knees buck at the pleasure. another small load pulses from Halsin soaking the outside of tavs hole in my semen from the druid. Halsin and Tav cleaned up and laid under the tree together. before halsin remarks "I wanna go again." or "One more time! Please!"

“we’ve been gone a while let’s make our way back to camp eat dinner see the others and maybe tonight” Tav suggests chuckling

As Halsin and Tav stumbled back into camp, their clothes in disarray and their hair an unruly mess, Gale couldn't resist a chuckle. "Well, it seems like someone had a wild time out there," he quipped, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Astarian, grinning mischievously, added, "I see you've been having your own kind of adventure. I hope you remembered to bring back some souvenirs." Both of them blushed but couldn't help but join in the laughter, knowing they'd just returned from an entirely different sort of escapade.

A/N: so I just needed! to write this, I have the next gale fic lined up already! like always dms are always open, i’d love to take request.

#halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin #bg3 companions #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #smut #Spotify #queer #gay

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tacticiandrafts · 3 months ago

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THE CRUCIFIXION ; Nikolai Gogol, Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!Reader

Part one / 5.2k words

SYNOPSIS . . . Your plans to lay low as a fugitive in the magical capital of Athlyne are spoiled upon meeting Nikolai, an eccentric conman. Interested in your powers, he introduces you to Fyodor, his charming and mysterious associate. You’ve stepped into his trap before you know it.

CW/TAGS . . . Dark fantasy setting, mentions of drug dependency and a corrupt government, reader is an anxious mess

P.S. ! HELLOOO EVERYNYAN! this is part one of a series (out of ~6 or 7, tentatively). i’m experiencing nikolai fever so i’m excited to continue letting him consume my mind :)

also posted on ao3 @ tactician!

As a light breeze drifted through the window and fanned your hot neck, your eyes fluttered shut. You let the pestle slip from your hand momentarily as you leaned against the counter, shivering as the sweat cooled. From behind you, Dr. Yosano chuckled.

“Letting the heat get to you?”

“Yeah, sorry. This is the last one, though.”

She peered over your shoulder and nodded approvingly as you finished crushing a mixture of ginkgo root and dried centipede. “Looks good.” Counting the bottles neatly tucked away on the shelf above you, she let out a low whistle. “You’re really on top of things today. I thought we’d be behind on orders.”

You grinned, dragging a forearm across your damp hairline. “I’ve got an errand to run, so I thought I might take my leave a bit early.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s fine with me. Thanks for the hard work.”

You spent a few more minutes helping her box up the orders you had just made and finally straightened your aching back with a groan. A strong arm snaked around your shoulders and you shivered as Dr. Yosano smirked, a dark glint in her eye. “Are you sore? Why don’t you let me take a look, hm?”

A shiver traveled down your spine, and you doubted it had anything to do with the remnants of magical seeds you’d just been working with. You flailed a bit as you slipped from her tightening grip, bounding toward the door to pick up the satchel and parasol you’d thrown on the hook earlier that morning. “No thanks, I should get going. I’ll see you for dinner!” Her dramatic sigh drifted out behind you as the door swung open and closed, the humidity fully enveloping you.

The afternoon sun hung high, occasionally eclipsed by passing clouds. The summer air was thick as the pulp of a blood orange; you cowered under the parasol as you made your way down the street. Even the shade that canopied the area surrounding the apothecary could do little to relieve your discomfort as a damp film coated your skin.

Auguste Apothecary, the pride and joy of your boss, Akiko Yosano, was nestled by the side of a towering zelkova elm. The massive size of the tree made the building appear dwarfish and shoddy, but its regular customers hardly minded its outward appearance. Though the elite had their own pharmaceutical facilities closer to the palace and Auguste had a bit of a shady reputation, it was located smack dab in the middle of the largest residential district in the capital of Athlyne, so it had likely never experienced a shortage of customers from the day of its opening.

Dr. Yosano’s pool of patrons wasn’t huge by any means, but no one would dare visit another apothecary after walking into hers. Her knowledge of natural medicine was unmatched and her ingredients, supplied by a talented farming mage, were of the highest quality. Though, you probably would have stayed by her side even if she turned out to be an incompetent fraud. She was sharp and incredibly capable, this was true, but you thought that her kindness and discretion were her finest qualities by far. For that reason, you expected that no one was more loyal to her than you were.

You had run away from your hometown, located in a distant territory of Athlyne, at age fourteen. Fleeing to an adjacent province and finding work as an apothecary’s assistant in exchange for food and shelter, you lived with a constant knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach, wondering how many days of peace you had left until your family found you. That was, until the Meursault Post arrived on the shop’s doorstep, containing an advertisement for a position at one of the capital’s finest apothecaries with the promise of shelter and a decent salary. Athlyne’s capital was densely populated and located hundreds of miles away from your home—it was your best shot at a halfway normal life. Adrenaline running all the way to your toes, you traveled for two weeks on about half the rations you really needed for such a trip and eventually found yourself collapsed in Auguste’s entryway. In your starved and fearful state, you’d begged Dr. Yosano to take you in, listing every personal merit you could think of, and all she’d done was shrug. Sure, she said nonchalantly, come here and show me what you know. As it turned out, no one else had shown up regarding the position (she was a teenager, only a few years older than you, and everyone else had simply laughed in her face) so she would have hired you no matter what sort of impression you made. Regardless, you could feel simple appreciation and sympathetic care in her every action. After all, she never asked any questions. She had no interest in your origins, nor did she pry when she found you sprawled under the elm tree in the middle of the night, under eyes dark and knees bouncing. She helped you set up your living quarters in one of the cabins behind the building, helped you make dinner every night, and wordlessly prepared a steaming cup of jasmine tea each time you were hit with a bout of insomnia.

Hitching a ride on the back of a supply cart headed toward the lower market, you thought you might pick up a batch of sweets or a bottle of wine for her.

Your thoughts trailed off as the cart began to head downhill, passing through the open gates into the underground sector of the capital. The air became cooler the further in you went, and you let out a little sight of relief. The streets there were sprawling, narrow, and winding. It was easy to get lost and even easier to find yourself trapped for hours searching for the exit. Though it may have felt a bit claustrophobic, the lower market was far livelier and less sterile than the markets above ground. It was rare to find Count Bram’s police force wandering around there, so the atmosphere was energetic and relaxed, with a variety of talented performers and community-oriented business owners. On top of that, the usually tight regulations on magical powers and objects were far more lenient, so there were certain things you could only see or purchase there.

Dr. Yosano never spoke of it, so you didn’t dare ask, but rumor had it that the lower market was the territory of her former teacher and the previous owner of Auguste Apothecary. Little was known of the shadowy Dr. Mori, but stories often circulated of the scandal that drove him underground. It was said that the apothecary was burned to the ground by the military after numerous reports of malpractice leading to death. It was revealed that he was an unregistered mage, but his imbued medications were so powerful that Count Bram allowed him to run free in the lower market provided that he offered his services to the palace. Left in the ashes of a terrible disgrace, a still teen-aged Dr. Yosano received funding from an anonymous benefactor and rebuilt the apothecary herself. Now, she barely broached the topic of Dr. Mori, but she was outspoken in her disdain for the medications he produced.

Incidentally, these medications were the reason for your errand. If you followed certain whispers, you’d be able to find one of Dr. Mori’s subordinates selling suppressants, pills that blocked your magical ability. You felt guilty for keeping this from Dr. Yosano, but it couldn’t be helped. At the moment, suppressants were your lifeline. Though the apothecary’s ingredients were nothing to sneeze at, you hadn’t yet succeeded in making your own solution with anything close to the same efficacy. Dr. Mori’s methods to make such a medication remained a mystery.

Jumping off the cart, you weaved through the crowd. Cheers erupted as a man, likely a former member of the traveling Fitzgerald Circus, juggled fiery tennis balls with his bare hands. Going further downhill and turning onto several more backstreets, your eyes roved over the various shops, snoozing animals, and hollering people before arriving at the front of a small and unassuming tavern. Squeezing through the door, you passed through the low-lit hallway and ducked around the corner past the bar to find the back room. You swore under your breath as you approached the door. Low stock. Be back Monday. Sorry :). Reading the words, a deep frown crossed your face. You had run out days ago and hadn’t had the time to make the trip until today.

Cursing Dr. Mori’s subordinate until the end of time (count your days, Ichiyou Higuchi!), you turned back, ignoring the old bartender’s piercing, monocled stare. You would’ve stopped to play a game or two of chess with him as you usually did, but you were too absorbed in your current dilemma to give him much other than an apologetic smile and a wave. This situation was a first, but you guessed that you only had a few days before your power began coming back to you.

Suppressants were a double-edged sword. They helped unregistered mages live normal lives without having to serve in Count Bram’s court, police force, or military by erasing their abilities without a trace. Even if a tip sent the police knocking at your door, they’d find it impossible to tell whether you possessed abnormal powers or not. But dependency on suppressants was a lifelong struggle. There were no unwanted side effects, but they rendered users financially dependent on Dr. Mori’s underground trade forever. If you stopped taking them, your powers would return, for a short time more powerful and difficult to control than they had ever been. Of course Dr. Yosano didn’t approve: they were a bandaid of a solution to a larger problem that would only benefit one man in the end.

Mages were few and far between in Athlyne and its territories, but they were plentiful in the capital’s lower market due to Dr. Mori’s services. Whole families were killed serving in the military generations before you were born. Now, during Bram’s rule, mages were either from one of two families serving directly under the Count or they were the product of a mutation, the first of their kind in their family. Most members of the latter group did everything in their power to avoid being drafted, and that usually meant selling their livelihoods to afford a lasting supply of suppressants. The state of the nation at the hands of powerful figures was unforgivable, and Dr. Mori’s greed only worsened the struggles of the common people. But given your own circumstances, coexisting with your magic was unthinkable. Ridding yourself of that curse was the entire reason you started anew in the first place. So, like many others, you found yourself in an impossible dilemma.

In your restlessness, you must have made a wrong turn. When you finally broke out of your own head and took a look around, the surrounding streets were unfamiliar. You let out a slow and heavy sigh. Perhaps you’d wander and shop for a while before asking for directions.

At that moment, a hand slipped into your own. Your arm was lifted above your head with a flourish, and before you could react, you were spun around to face the man who’d grabbed you.

“Hello, my lost-looking lady!”

You blinked at him, trying to swallow down your instinctual panic. You didn’t expect to be left alone in your wandering knowing that the capital’s conmen were notoriously bothersome, but abruptly grabbing a stranger was like asking for a fist to the nose. …Gosh, though, your annoyance stuttered as your gaze traveled over his face. His radiant skin, mischievous smile, and glowing eyes almost distracted you from the scar running across his eye and the calluses littering the heel of his palm. Even these attributes were attractive, cutting through his forcibly high tone and boyish features. He was tall, with a long braid thrown over his broad shoulder… You huffed in an attempt to shoo these thoughts out of your head. As you stared up at him, numerous passersby peeked at the bizarre scene before turning their heads down and briskly walking away. It would be best to yank your hand back and continue on as though nothing had happened, much the same as everyone else.

“May I ask what you’re doing touching me?” And yet, you did the opposite. You couldn’t be blamed. He was very handsome.

“Allow me to explain. I couldn’t resist seeing a surprised look on a lovely face like yours! You see, I can tell you’re in need of excitement!”

“Ah, twenty words or less, please. I’m trying to decide if I should punch you or hear you out, you see.”

“Oh! I like you already! I have fifteen left now, right? Wait, no, I messed up! I’m running out!” He squealed as he let you go, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. You frowned, trying to hide the amusement beginning to mask your annoyance. Instead of responding, you placed a hand on your hip and raised a brow at him. The man dropped out of the cutesy pose he had been holding and took off his hat, bringing it to his chest in a polite gesture. His voice lowering, though still not without a teasing lilt, he began to explain. “My name is Nikolai and I’m a fortune teller!” He threw his hat up and gave you a spin, catching it as he faced you again. This time, he inched closer, eyes narrowing. “I sensed quite a turbulent energy as you passed by just now. In fact, I can tell how special you are! You can see your own destiny, can’t you? How exciting! Would you spare a moment for a reading?”

You shivered, tensing. Those words, a bit too close to the truth, felt far too pointed. And that look in his eyes—did he know you? Though this was undoubtedly a part of his routine, you couldn’t help the way his words triggered your deeply rooted paranoia. Perhaps he recognized you—but he couldn’t, you were so far from home, and the photos would be outdated by now…You were falling right into such an easily avoidable trap. Even so, with the threat of your magic looming over you, your judgment became impossible to trust. Dread pulled at your shoulders and fingertips, the thought of this man knowing something chilling your blood. You’d have to indulge him, just to be sure. Even if you were only being paranoid, your life was on the line here.

(There was no need to mention the small part of your mind that was bored and frustrated and very much wanted to hang out with a funny and attractive man, so long as you kept a tight hold on your wallet.)

“A reading…?” You tilted your head, coy.

“Yes, your fortune! My shop is just down the road, so what do you say? Will you place your future in my trusty hands?” His words were laced with so much mirth and mischief that you wondered if he was even taking himself seriously.

Hesitantly, you shrugged. “Fine. My plans for today have fallen through. Lead the way.”

Anyone who took such a tone with him was probably not likely to agree to follow him in the end. You could tell from his genuine look of surprise at your words, which quickly morphed into even greater mirth than before.

An infectious giggle rang through the air. He wasted no time invading your personal space again, hooking an arm around your elbow and starting to skip. You would have tripped and slammed your face into the ground if not for his surprising strength as he pulled you along. If you were anyone else, your suspicion might have eased up as you processed how ridiculous the two of you definitely looked, frolicking through the crowds like a couple of hearty drunk men.

He didn’t take you very far, making only a few turns (hopping all the way) before leading you down a slightly quieter street. There, you found yourself pushing through the door of what looked like a small library or bookstore. Clouds of dust puffed out as you moved through the space, ducking your head to squeeze past eerily low rafters toward a sitting room in the back. This was obviously not his shop (an old man greeted you when you walked in), and he probably rented this back room out for his hustles. Still, it looked surprisingly cozy, with an old armchair positioned near the entrance and a small walnut coffee table between two stools in the back. Nikolai had finally let go to allow you to navigate there without encountering any hazards, bewildering you a bit as he bounded through with almost impossible grace given his height. You took the chance to look around, wondering if you felt impressed or put off by his design choices. The creaky wooden boards were muted by numerous rugs scattered across the floor, an eclectic collection of oil lamps bathed the room in a low but warm yellow light, and a violently red porcelain tea set glittered on the table. Taking it all in, you sat down, playing with your hands for a moment as you watched Nikolai follow behind you.

A grey cat with barely-there stripes glanced up at him, squinting sleepily on the armchair. He patted its head as he passed, chirping in feline fashion as he met its eyes. The cat simply flopped to the side, curling its paws as its soft, fat stomach spilled over the cushion beneath it. He almost mirrored it in the way he plopped himself on the stool across from you, grinning.

Sweat began to gather at your temples. He continued staring at you without saying anything. The attention flustered you, so you averted your gaze to his hands. They were long and slender, and they had felt gentle, rough and warm in your hand—make up your mind! Are you scared or attracted to him?! “So…shall we?”

Nikolai nodded, gesturing widely to the cat. “Don’t mind my assistant, oka~y? She won’t spill your secrets, so don’t worry about a thing!”

“Yeah, sure,” you snorted. You were starting to regret everything from the moment you woke up that morning as you stared at the lounging cat, thinking you really needed to work on your impulse control, so you decided to turn your attention toward Nikolai as he shuffled a set of cards. You hadn’t seen him pull them out.

Now that you were sitting right in front of him, your eyes moved absently over him a few times.

He wore a long white tunic with ornate black embroidery traveling past the collar and circling the buttons down the front. His white pants were similarly intricate, the patterns disappearing where the wide legs were tucked neatly into his boots and the waist was fastened to his hips by a silky black sash. Strings of pearly beads and brightly colored tassels adorned him from head to toe: they hung from his neck, draped across his black fur cap, and swayed across his pants. The maximalist patterning and embellishing of his clothes wasn’t unusual for an entertainer, especially one who operated in the lower market. Showmanship was probably what paid the bills, after all. Still, there was something more to him that you couldn’t place hidden beneath the flashy gestures and showy words. Perhaps if anyone else wore those clothes, so fit for a clown, they’d be easier to avoid altogether. But Nikolai seemed scarily calculating for the second-rate, theatrical scammer he presented himself to be. Though he disguised it well, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d approached you for a reason. His words and his gaze were just too pointed. The thought startled you, and you averted your eyes again for fear of him noticing how blatantly you were checking him out. If he noticed, he made no indication if it, immersed in his own show.

“Ah! I see!” He gasped loudly, pulling a single card out from the stack and scrutinizing it before nodding dramatically. He held the card between his index and middle finger, shutting his eyes as though he was performing some sort of ritual. Then, he spun it around and let go of it, letting it flutter down in front of you.

A stranger in the capital using cards to tell the future was utterly laughable to you. Only the scattered descendants of the Chekhov family had the innate gift of foresight. Even if these cards themselves were magical, they had to have been imbued by a Royal Sorcerer of the Camus family, and artifacts made by a Camus were just about as hard to come by as the throne itself. Nikolai was obviously not a Chekhov, and he couldn’t possibly afford an artifact if he was performing cons in the lower market.

Nevertheless, the image that stared back at you froze your pulse.

You recognized The Lovers from your own handling of cards nearly a decade ago. This particular rendition featured two birds circling each other over an abyssal, grey sea. They were seagulls, and their coloring was a striking match to the one on the Chekhov family crest: an image you were intimately familiar with.

“Oh my!” Nikolai let out a high-pitched giggle. A horrible heat rose to your neck. “Now, for a quiz! Do you know what this card is telling us?” You opened your mouth, mind racing for an excuse, for a lie, or some other explanation. You couldn’t come up with anything, nor could you bring yourself to get up and run. Though, he barely gave you time to think about it because he didn’t wait for your answer. “We were destined to meet today, darling! This could mean only one thing.”

Your heart began to pound so frantically that you almost missed his next words.

“You and I are soulmates!” He threw himself forward to look even closer at you, his mouth curling into a scandalized grin.

“Um, what?” You couldn’t mask your confusion. Your head was spinning, the shock from what you expected him to say had rendered you dumb. To make matters worse, that most certainly was not what the card meant, and somehow his shoddy grasp of tarot was so funny to you that you shook with the effort it took to force yourself to stay serious.

“As you can see, this card here called out to me. The Lovers! The name says it all.” Though you should have played along the same way you had done this entire time, you forgot to react. He continued on, waving his hands in excitement. “We’re destined to be together! Yay!”

After a moment, you shook your head in disbelief, heaving out the breath you had been holding in. “Are you messing with me right now? You don’t even know what the cards mean.”

Even the offense he feigned held a trace of barely concealed humor. “Surely not! My assistant can sense it too!” You turned your gaze to the cat, who had rolled over to face away from Nikolai and his loud voice.

He was ridiculous. You suppressed a smile.

“You are messing with me. This is the worst scam ever. Even though I walked into it.” You started to stand, pouting facetiously.

His hands quickly found yours and he stared at you with an exaggerated, puppy-like sadness.

“My love!” The sadness quickly dissipated as he winked cheekily. “My services aren’t free, silly.”

The moment abruptly ruined, you recoiled. “What? …You’re serious?” He stuck his tongue out, sliding you a piece of paper (where did that come from?) across the table. You glared down at the beautifully inked, absolutely preposterous bill. A drawing of Nikolai’s face mocked you from beside the numbers. “What’s the point of this? I think you know I’ve never seen this much money in my life.” And I really thought we were flirting just now, even though I still kind of feel as though you might be plotting my downfall.

He nodded, snatching the piece of paper and crumpling it up. “Co~rrect!” He stood, pointing at you. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the conundrum! You’re in debt because of a scam, but you’re broke as a joke! Wait! Oops, forget I said that! Oh no, what should we do?!”

Your horror, amusement, and bashfulness having now faded slightly, your head was clear enough to observe him. He had a habit of rambling on like he was telling one long inside joke, pretending to get worked up while speaking fast enough to prevent you from getting a word in unless he wanted you to say something. His behavior was beginning to confirm your suspicions—you were convinced now that your original hunch was accurate. He wasn’t at all as dense as he made himself out to be, and he wasn’t just a scammer.

Still, you couldn’t understand him at all. Nikolai was putting on such an obvious show, one you’d seen many times in your curiosity surrounding the self-proclaimed fortune tellers of the lower market. But nothing about him was adding up. Why did he seek you out? How could his reading have exposed you so thoroughly, even though he had no knowledge of the cards’ true meanings? And if he approached you because he knew who you were, if he was trying to reel you in and sell you off to your family, what was the point of fooling around so obtusely, of making a scene outside? In the capital, your family name was synonymous with dirty money. He’d have more trouble on his hands than it was worth if he attracted too much attention.

All of that being said, he had drawn you in with alarming skill. You were curious. You wanted to run. You wanted more. Your head spun. Should you be running?

Only one thing was clear. He’d spent this time trying to confuse you because he wanted something. What could that be, though, if not the Chekhov family’s ransom money?

“A date!” Nikolai announced his wish before you had even a moment to ponder it.

Once again, he made you feel slow. The realization made you laugh. “A date with me?”

“A date with you!” He grabbed your hand and spun you around again, this time pulling a single red rose seemingly from thin air. He slipped it behind your ear with a ghostly soft touch and tapped your nose lightly before taking a step back.

“All of this was a ploy to…ask me out?” It wasn’t, but the joke relaxed you. You wished you could be naive, that you could trust that it was. He offered a knowing smile in return.

“Bin~go! You pass with flying colors!”

You laughed again, loudly, from deep in your stomach. “Great. You can have your date, so I’ll get going now, alright? Quit harassing me.” He took a step back, watching you from a distance now.

The smile that bloomed on his face was small enough to bewilder you again, to quiet your laughter. His eyes lost their mischievous shine as they softened, the clownish pitch disappearing from his voice when he spoke again. It was as if he was speaking to you for the first time. “Sure. Think of this as the start of another game. I’d like it if you entertained me just once more. I have a favor to ask of you, when we meet again.”

His genuine gaze was heart-stopping. It filled every inch of the distance he’d just put between the two of you. Dr. Yosano had taught you to be careful of the unpredictability of strangers in the capital, but your answer came easily.

“Alright. You can find me at Auguste Apothecary when you’re ready. I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

He said nothing, but his eyes narrowed again with his usual jovial pretense as he held the door open and watched you go.

Continuing on your way as though nothing had happened and your heart wasn’t seizing inside your chest, you found yourself buying a few bottles of wine in a stupor.

Nikolai was nothing if not confusing. How could a man you’d just met touch at your deepest anxieties with just a few cryptic words, sending your heart plummeting to your stomach, then eclipse every inch of fear simply by amusing you with a teasing look and a sharp laugh?

The confusion followed you all the way out of the cool underground air, through the oppressive summer humidity, and to the familiar silhouette of Auguste.

“Did you travel all that way just to get me some wine? Seriously?”

Dr. Yosano’s familiar voice unfurled your tangled thoughts. You turned to smile at her, embarrassed. “Not exactly. This was the only errand I was able to get done, though.”

She returned your smile with a bemused one of her own. “Sounds like things didn’t go your way today.” She grabbed two glasses and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of one. “There’s always tomorrow, though. Wanna drink to that?”

You huffed, silently judging her heavy-handed pour as she filled them both. “Sure. To a luckier tomorrow.”

As you took a sip, all the air left your lungs and the force of it nearly bowled you over. Everything around you seemed to disappear, your senses swept away in a vacuum. The image was clearer than any glimpse of the future you’d seen before taking suppressants: your hands, dripping red. Your nails, caked with dirt and blood. Nikolai, his expression obscured as he soaked in the shadows at the furthest corner of the room. A man you’d never met before sat in front of you, smirking. His black hair framed his pale, sullen face like a marble arch, cold to the touch. When he spoke, his words were quiet and soft. They hit you like thorns. You shook your head, angry, scared, and tearful. “It’s because I trust that both of us will be saved,” you retorted, and his smirk twisted.

When the vision ended, it was like a sheet being ripped from over your head. The back of Dr. Yosano’s hand was cooling your forehead and one of the glasses was shattered on the floor, staining everything red. Your fingers, your nails, both of your feet, her wool socks.

You leaned into her touch and thought about how to breathe again. You blinked away everything you had just seen, focusing only on the image of Nikolai, of his face, unreadable.

You were prepared this time. You repeated this like a mantra in your head, thinking of nothing else as the other woman helped you into bed, laying a cold towel over your head.

You can find me at Auguste Apothecary when you’re ready.

You kept blinking, but the shadows never left, never revealed his eyes.

Even as you recalled all the times you, yourself, weren’t ready, each time you failed at your duties, you kept repeating it. You were prepared. The vision faded, and the words shifted in your mind as you succumbed to sleep.

I’ll find you there soon. Are you ready?

The voice was soft. You bled when you touched it. The sound sent rats scurrying away, fleeing. Everything was cold, like black marble.

By the next evening, you remembered nothing of your dream and could only recall bits and pieces of the vision. Again, you cursed Ichiyou Higuchi, who had really done nothing wrong except for being absent when you needed her. Finally feeling the weight of a bag of suppressants in your hand, you felt you could face anything.

All you needed to do was wait for him to show up.

#nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fanfic

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vidavalor · 7 months ago

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Hello! I love your posts about the Ineffable Husbands coded speech so I wanted to ask if you caught the double meaning of the word “clue”! It is one which we hear the first time after the pub and jealous Crowley. The word “Clue” has a double meaning as it is slang for “developing an erection”. Didn’t know if you already caught it, but wanted to share that with you! 😂

Allo allo allo @the-apology-dance! 💕I'm glad you're enjoying reading my wordy rambles. Thanks for the reminder of modern use of "clue." I did think it euphemistic in S2 and why relates to a few other words, so, a shiny little bit o' meta for you on clue, investigate, appearance, suspicion, trace, Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte, and goo in Ineffable Husbands Speak.

Like you pointed out, in our modern times, clue is used euphemistically for getting/having an erection. In slang terms, it's not that old by comparison to other euphemisms for the same thing-- one of which is, of course, "pitching a tent", which the canopy-themed season didn't ignore, as we looked at in another meta how it's one of the words produced by homophony in Aziraphale's French. The thing that's funny about Aziraphale's euphemistic use of clue in S2 is that it's part of their wordplay for reasons different from how we use it so it winds up not really mattering if they know the reason why the rest of us do or not.

A clue as euphemistic for an erection in our world originated around 2006/2007 off of it being used that way in an episode of South Park. Crowley & Aziraphale don't need to know that or even be remotely aware of it for clue to be euphemistic already in Ineffable Husbands Speak because of the etymology of the word. (And, as with everything, it's also possible that they are-- unintentionally or otherwise-- actually the origin of it.)

Clue-- in the sense of a piece of information that helps or could help in solving a mystery-- is a respelling of the Middle English/Germanic words clew/clewe and the French cleue, all of which mean a ball of yarn or thread. It's a really neat origin for a word because of its built-in metaphor-- getting a clue is pulling on threads to unravel a mystery. It also evolved into having a nautical meaning... and we know these two and the sea.

A clue with relation to seafaring is to raise a sail up through use of the cluelines/clewlines on the ship. So, ah, as you can see lol... we're already at an erection euphemism pretty easily without them having the first clue about South Park, right? Clue is tied to both the sea and to thread/yarn, which is seamstress work, which is part of the colors & clothing-themed euphemisms that they have going on as well. There are some of the colors and clothing stuff in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings and also it's part of the shades of grey convo in 1941, etc.. [I've other Asks related to Mrs. Sandwich/seamstress & the shades of grey convos so more on those soon.] But it's the element of a sense of mystery involved in clue, along with everything else, that makes Aziraphale so hot for the word.

If one of the metas you read was the one about Tip Top, Thank You & Ticketyboo, then you saw a couple of examples of wordplay around the verb to come. The long and short of it is that we humans, as you know, refer to having an orgasm as having come and, within that, is this implicit sense of travel, right?

A coming is an arrival and to come means that you arrived. It implies a journey was undertaken-- that you went somewhere and eventually got to a destination. Humans do this linguistically with other mind-body experiences as well-- you "go to" sleep; you can have "a bad trip" on drugs, etc.. In addition to this, there is a never-ending list of travel-related euphemisms for sex in support of the verb to come. A ride, for example, can be had in a car, on a horse or with your partner. Relevant to what you're talking about with clue, though, is what else that the verb to come deals with and that's appearances and disappearances.

To come also means to appear-- as in, to come into view. This is amusing to Crowley & Aziraphale since, ya know... they can appear and disappear at will. 😄 They're magical beings who can miracle themselves places and pop up in each other's presence. Sometimes, this is part of whatever they're playing at in the moment, like in 1793:

Other times, it's in reference to a mystery, which is often centered around a disappearance. As a result of to come meaning to appear, there are a series of other words related to disappearance that show up in their wordplay. Two of them-- suspicion and trace-- pop up in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings. Crowley buried the word pish (which has ties to nightingales, fish, and peas, as we looked at in another meta) in the middle of "suspicious" while tying it to Aziraphale's ears in the entry. Among the other bits of wordplay in there is that one definition of suspicion is that it is the barest trace of something and to trace also means to lightly outline with touch.

Additionally? Something that "seems fishy" is something that is suspicious.

The word investigate-- what one does with a mystery-- is from the Latin in (in this case, meaning into) and vestigare (which means to trace). So Crowley's use of suspicious in Demon's Guide and Aziraphale's use of investigate in S2 are playing at the same root word of trace-- a word related to disappearance/appearance/to come that isn't just an action one might take to track clues in a case but is also how one might touch their partner when feeling a bit amorous.

But investigate is also funny to Crowley & Aziraphale for another reason: the words inside the word.

Investigate: IN. VEST... 😂 A day hasn't gone by in, like, at least three hundred plus years that either of them hasn't been wearing a vest and Aziraphale has a clue and he's thinking he might take the car that he's made into an on-going sexual metaphor for Crowley and he wants to go do some investigating...

...and it would seem that this has something to do with why this description of Aziraphale's planned trip involves him pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek in the time-honored, traditional, non-verbal sign for indicating a desire to give a blowjob. Aziraphale plans to thoroughly follow all possible leads but his hope is that following the clues in this in.vest.igation will lead him on a path south of Snake Belt.

It's also hilarious that Aziraphale tells Crowley that he got his clue from Gabriel 😄-- who was singing to Aziraphale in the house this morning.

Additionally, investigate includes the words gate and ate, right?

Ate obviously relates to their constant theme of food. The word gate originally meant not a door but a hole or to breach a hole and also the eye of a needle... so, we're also back to our ball of yarn/thread in our seamstress-y word of clue. Among its original spellings were geat (so, containing eat) and geatu (containing eat + u lol). As if that weren't enough? The word gate is also found in a French word that is pronounced somewhat similarly to geatu, which is gateau.

A gateau is a rich, French sponge cake that has layers of icing, cream and/or fruit. In Good Omens: Lockdown, Aziraphale is sharing what he's baked during Lockdown but everything that he's baked is euphemistic for fantasies he's been having to get himself off, the content of which he's sharing by way of describing them as kinds of cake. He tells Crowley that he has baked (and "has baked") a Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte, which is almost a Black Forest Gateau but for one, key difference: by definition, it contains alcohol.

Crowley is the embodiment of an elegant and sexy Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte-- a rich chocolate sponge cake layered with and topped with whipped cream and cherries. In Germany, it is actually illegal to refer to a Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte as such unless it contains kirschwasser, which is a cherry brandy made from regional cherries. If it doesn't have that, it's a chocolate cake or, depending on how its made, a Black Forest Gateau.

Alcohol refers to sex and, while it appears to be a generalized word for it as well, it also phonetically kind of spells out what it is: alcohol is "all-co-hol." A hol is a hole or a hollow in several different languages and it's Dutch slang for anus/arsehole/the ass as a whole. Making things funnier? It's also apparently the Dutch word for a cargo hold on a ship. Alcohol is then sex featuring equal hol opportunity for both of them and for Aziraphale to have baked a Schwarzwalder Kirschtorte is to have gotten himself there fantasizing about having some alcohol with his "whipped-cream"-covered, cherry-topped, black forest gateau.

You'll notice that while they eat chocolate, Aziraphale does not ever eat or bake-- and definitely has never had any desire to "bake"-- a Devil's Food Cake. That would just be offensive. You might also notice that Aziraphale said the name of another kind of cake "incorrectly" in Lockdown-- it's called Angel Food Cake. Aziraphale calls it Angel's Food Cake... verbal italics and apostrophe emphasis included. 😉

Anyway... back to clue... in the South Park episode that started the euphemism, there's actually a second one that developed as a result, too, as you likely know, and that's clue goo-- which is euphemistic, as you might suspect, for semen. Goo is a word that Crowley actually uses twice in the series-- once in the show itself and it's one of the words that shows up in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings.

When Crowley proposes that they run off together in the bandstand disaster scene, he's using a bunch of sexual euphemisms in the process, largely because he knows that Aziraphale is going to reject him. He also is because of language overlap with Armageddon and destruction with sex. In the bandstand scene, he uses "a puddle of burning goo" to describe the end of the Earth as a result of Armageddon but it's also probably an accurate description of Crowley himself after sex. Self-descriptive as well, probably lol.

Because goo is a sticky or, well, gooey, substance but it's also sappy, mushy, romantic sentiment. When Crowley uses the word in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings, both of those meanings are present, with the idea that what he's writing is total goo (and it is) but he doesn't care. Additionally, he is also referencing its homophone-- gu, the root of the word guru.

Gu is a Sanskrit word that means, among other things: to go (similar in travel theme to to come), water, earth. Guru itself means "worthy of respect." A guru is an expert and guide who dispels spiritual darkness and is one of several references in Demon's Guide where both Crowley and Aziraphale use words relating to healers, the ecclesiastical and other forms of ministry to describe one another, all in a way that relates love and sex in their eyes to a form of spirituality.

Crowley uses guru for Aziraphale and, also, the-erotic-as-religion theme appears to be one of the reasons behind his choice for Aziraphale of the word bishop... one meaning of which is one who, ahem, oversees the actions and spiritual needs of other clergy...

...while Aziraphale goes full throttle on the blasphemy as he always delightfully does and refers to Crowley as a god... several of them.

Finally, if you're looking for words within words, you probably noticed that the word appear has a rather familiar one in it: pear.

But, that's for next time. 😉

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#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands speak #etymology

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fricking-ur-mom · 2 years ago

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Serendipity

◦ First time really posting a NSFW. 2.1k words. ◦ Baizhu, m!reader, amab reader, naga Baizhu, bottom reader, top baizhu, dub-con, aphrodisiac, oviposition, monster fucking, double penetration ✕ Women / fem aligned / Minors DNI. You will be blocked.

A soft sigh escaped the man's lips at the feeling of cool water against his bare feet. His boots lay a few feet from the shore line, pants rolled up to his knees as he allowed himself to cool off a bit.

It felt nice, ignoring the stress that comes with the village and just.. Getting out once in a while. A breath of fresh air, the canopy of trees providing him a fair amount of shade even as the air around him still puts pressure on his lungs with the sheer thickness of it. Crouching for a short moment, he'd gather some water in his hands to splash over his face, shoulders slumping as he stood back up to his full height and made his way back over to where his boots lay in the grass.

Perhaps he should have done this sooner- escaped away from his family and the drama within his circle of friends. Just exploring the wilderness for a time and avoiding everyone in the process. It wasn't as though he planned on going too far after all, and he'd packed plenty of rations.. There shouldn't be any issues from what he can see.

Tugging his boots on, he'd continue on his trek, hoping to find something worth bringing back. Some months ago a trader had stopped by the small village he called home, speaking about large flowers that were useful for medical purposes, mainly numbing pain. Perhaps he could dry a few and bring them back as the medics are often without such things- only having general medicines traders bring into the town.

It could be of some use- surely. And with that in might he continued on, tightening his grip on the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

With the canopy above, it became more difficult to distinguish what time it was exactly- and lead to things appearing dark much quicker than they should be.

Blinking, the man grumbled as he stopped by one of the massive trees in the area. "This will have to do.."

His bag dropped to the ground as he got to work clearing out a space to set up his tent and sleeping bag, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow.

There was a presence.. He could feel it. It was as though it were boring into his very soul, making his skin crawl and having him glance over his shoulder only to find nothing was there.

It was a strange, unsettling feeling. He didn't like it in the slightest- especially when he planned to sleep. The idea of something stalking about, watching as he slept and potentially attacking put him on high alert. Perhaps.. Perhaps he should try to move on anyway, quietly pick his way along and get some rest in the morning so whatever was watching him might move along by then.

Or maybe.. Laying in wait was a better option, allow himself some rest. Even if it was lurking about, he'd just have to make sure he didn't fall asleep..

Or was he just paranoid? It was certainly a possibility. With all the stress that had been building up lately it certainly wasn't out of the question. Perhaps.. Yes, that had to be it. It was all just the stress he had been dealing with.. And now it was haunting him in the moment of peace he had found. He could sleep.. He'd be fine.

Golden orbs stared down at the man who shuffled about, preparing some sort of shelter to hide away in.. It would do good for the weather.. sure, but it wouldn't stop the prying eyes of the naga. After all, it just meant having his prey unable to run away too far.

This prey however.. It didn't enter the tent after setting it up, it simply sat near it, gazing about. Ahh.. Of course- it wasn't oblivious was it? It knew he was here.. Watching, waiting for the opportunity to leap.

As morning came, the traveler found himself much more drowsy than he had planned- and with a pair of eyes still glued to his form. It might not have been the best idea to stay up as long as he did, gazing at the patches of sunlight that managed to touch the earth despite the trees that tried to block it all out.

After managing to stuff everything back into his bag, he trudged on. Perhaps he should have tried to sleep, at least a little. It may not have been the best idea though, perhaps whatever was stalking him awaited for him to fall unconscious to strike- and it very may well be the only reason he was able to press on.

Not too long as he started walking again, he found himself frozen in his tracks. Around a tree wrapped thick vines, large flowers with a sunset-esqe gradient spread open- as through proud to be viewed and seeking attention. It was far from the most colorful thing the man had seen.. But it certainly matched the description the trader had spoken of all those months ago.

A tentative hand reached out, brushing against the petals. They seemed to recoil in response to his touch however, a plume of what appeared to be pollen being spat out at him in retaliation.

Coughing, the man staggered back, eyes closed and waving his hand in front of his face in an effort to not breathe in too much of it.

A sharp gaze took notice of this however, grinning with fangs that poked at his bottom lip when he did so. Was the human stupid? Perhaps- it was always a possibility.. Or maybe.. The pathetic creature knew.. And was actively giving itself over to him.

White scales covered the appendage that was wrapped around the thick branches from above, moving silently through the trees as he grew nearer and nearer to the human who's breath began to grow heavy in response to the aphrodisiac he'd inhaled, whining.. All nice and pretty sounds for the naga.

"Ah ah ah.. Don't breathe in too much.. No no.. That won't be any good now will it? You'll get too overwhelmed if you do that~" Looking to the side, the human found a man- well.. Half of one. The lower body was that of a snake, pristine white scales reflecting any light that touched them, amber orbs staring into his own and long green hair held back loosely behind him.

Y/n's eyes widened at the sight- this had to be what's been following him- staring into his soul and keeping him from sleeping. The naga drew closer to him, grinning as soon the man found the thick appendage that was the creature's tail wrapping around him- trapping him in place.

"You won't need your supplies.. I'll keep you warm.. As warm as I can.." With that, the human felt teeth digging into the junction between his shoulder and his neck. A sharp inhale came from the human, clenching his jaw as he felt his pants grow tighter. It hadn't been an issue this whole time- the plant.. The pollen- It was the only explanation he had- And now this.. thing clearly wanted a piece of him.. Or several for all he knew.

"I'm- I'm not.." Y/n struggled to get any words out, staring up at the canopy that shielded him from the sun- yet trapped him with this strange creature. He'd heard rumors from travelers before- but never did he expect he himself, would find such a creature.

"Shh.. Don't concern yourself with anything.. You'll be just fine.. Holding my eggs to keep them nice and warm for me~ I've a population to rebuild afterall.. And you'd be such a perfect mate now wouldn't you?"

Panic. Fear. It all bubbled up at once, though it was being drowned out just as quickly as it arose. Struggling to find some form of friction for his growing problem- be that against the scales of the one who had him trapped in such a situation- or with his own legs- it didn't matter. He was beginning to grow desperate now as a low whine escaped his lips.

This only seemed to egg on the naga, taking Y/n away from where he had been camping. It didn't take too long- though it felt like ages for the pair with the human wriggling around in search of any form of relief while being drug away into a cave. He didn't have any appreciation for the sparse decoration- the medical herbs and the furs on the ground.. That or the human didn't care enough to notice- rutting his hips against the snow-white scales to the best of his ability while being restrained. "I can't-.. Too much.. Hurts..!"

He found himself being lowered onto a bundle of furs as the words escaped him- the moment the scaly appendage released him his hand moved down between his thighs- face flushed as he searched for something to quell his desires.

"It'll be alright darling~ I'll fill you up so nicely, you'll never have to feel empty again~" The words of the naga didn't seem to ease Y/n's struggle however, only leaving him to whine out that much more. With a chuckle, a pair of hands found themselves tearing at the human's clothing- tossing the unnecessary material off to the side as he stared down at the sight before him.

"Something-.. Do something.." Y/n's voice rang out, squirming before a pair of hands gripped his hips to keep him in place.

"I will.. Oh trust me I will.. Remember something for me.. Baizhu.. I want to hear you scream my name." Two fingers dipped down, breaching the human's entrance without hesitation. It was a strange sensation- the sudden- and unexpected stretch leaving the man to squirm about, mouth hanging open as he stared up at the cave ceiling. The heat of the area was suffocating as he felt the long, thin fingers wriggle inside of him, opening him up in preparation for what was to come. "You'll be good for me.. Right? A good mate for me.. Holding my eggs and keeping them nice and warm.."

The remaining hand on Y/n's hip moved to press against his stomach where Baizhu looked upon fondly. "S-stop.. Teasing me.. Please..?" It was almost pathetic- And Baizhu would voice the thought as he pulled his fingers away, moving his hands to hold the backs of Y/n's thighs- pressing his knees to his chest as he shifted closer.

"Alright.. But just remember you wanted this~ And you're taking them both~" He didn't waste any more time, shoving both cocks inside the human with one thrust. It was a tight fit, leaving him groaning as the human jerked about, overwhelmed by the feeling of so much inside him. "Breathe now.. Can't have you getting too into things.." Baizhu attempted to soothe, keeping still inside Y/n as he let the man adjust. It took a few moments- but the moment the human started squirming again in hopes to feel something Baizhu set a pushing pace- balls slapping against Y/n's ass as the man started letting out whimpers.

It was too much- it was all too much. A coil tightened in the human's stomach- if he wasn't in pain earlier from how turned on he was- he definitely was now. He was experiencing too much, and he knew it. The coil snapped- much sooner than it would have in a normal situation- and with Baizhu continuing to plow into him it left the man crying out.

"Bai-? Baizhuu--! Hah- Too much! Please! Too much!" Tears started to stream down his face when he felt a hand release one of his thighs and move down to his cock, jerking it off in time with his thrusts as cum still spurted out of the tip.

"No! No no-.. Please no-! Ah- hah!" Y/n found himself thrashing about with the overwhelming sensations of it all- his dick refusing to soften on him with the constant stimulation.

"You.. Hnn.. Asked for this~" Came the reply from Baizhu, who seemed far too eager to torment the human below him with pleasure. It didn't take long to coax yet another orgasm out of the man, the tightness around Baizhu leaving him to struggle in fending off his own impending orgasm.

The fight itself didn't last long, groaning as he released inside of the man who squirmed at the feeling of hot fluid filling his insides.

That wasn't it though- as he felt something.. Much more solid making its home inside of him. Whining, Y/n's squirming only worsened, leaving Baizhu to pin his hips to the furs below him.

"Ah ah ah.. I told you.. You'll be keeping my eggs warm darling.. And I've got all season to breed you until your as full as can be~"

#genshin #genshin impact #male reader #x male reader #genshin x male reader #baizhu #baizhu genshin #baizhu genshin impact #baizhu x male reader #m reader #x m reader

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