#gabriel hugo

[gabrielhugoauthor]

Nos Vamos Juntos

Vamos a abrazarnos y dejar de flajelarnos

[mymilovesfashion]

[2023 year in review ~ Dazed Magazine]

SPRING - Azealia Banks, Ice Spice, Malick Bodian, Brent McKeever, Campbell Addy, Clara Belleville, Gabriel Moses, Hugo Comte, Justin French, Lea Colombo, Nadine Ijewere, Rafael Pavarotti, Renell Medrano, Thibaut Grevet, Will Scarborough, Zaya Wade, Clint, Just Stop Oil, Sophia Dawiye

SUMMER - Ramla Ali, Digga D, Dua Lipa, Stormzy, Alys Hunt, Lee Nixon, Laury Apedo, Raza Tariq, Esrom Solomon, Rae, Anas, Imogen Cunlife, Floss Crossley

AUTUMN - Jungkook , Little Simz, Rosalía , Spice, Quenlin Blackwell

WINTER - Ceechynaa , Cleo Sol, Anok Yai, Nayonikaa Shetty, Ponahalo Mojapelo, Loubna Reguig, Salimata Sylla, Hiba Latreche

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Characters, book, and author names under the cut

Daniel Molloy/Armand - The Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice

Celia St James/Evelyn Hugo - The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid

Nina Zenik/Matthias Hevlar - Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Nathan Byrn/Gabriel Boutin - Half Bad by Sally Green

[samiligia2]

https://www.instagram.com/samiligia?igsh=MWJ6MmdwcDcyY2NhMQ==

[aliatori]

A New Kind of Salt Price

The Forsaken and the Forsworn | post-Fate | Gabriel Berthelot | 900 words | Explicit (Monsterfucking, masturbation, self-bondage, masochism, religious offerings)

Right around the point where Gabriel tugs on his nipples, suckers dexterous enough to pinch both skin and the golden bars of jewelry pierced through it, he decides he should have done this ages ago.

The pulse of Xeheia’s ocean competes with his own, beating louder than battle drums in his ears. Being submerged in chill saltwater does little to cool his blood. If anything, it makes his cock throb harder, barbs frilling across the considerable length unfurled between his other tentacles, each looped coil swollen with lust.

Ain’t like he’s doing much touching of it, though. He’d have spent already if so. But how long he’s been beneath the waters surrounding the Storm’s Eye is anyone’s guess. He’s got no godsdamned idea.

Two of his ink-dark limbs writhe in the surrounding sea, the twisting shadows treading water and keeping him afloat. Another pair wraps around the heft of his chest, squeezing and pinching and pulling his tits almost with a mind of their own—except it’s his mind too, given how his thoughts keep wandering to a certain green-eyed bastard and his habit of tenderizing him something fierce before a fuck. Each touch of tentacle brings with it the taste of his own skin, though the salt-dense ocean blots out any subtleties to be found. He’s overwhelmed by texture instead: smooth metal, taut nipple, puckered scars, goosefleshed skin, tiny hairs.

If he’s honest, he’s been overwhelmed since he got the bright idea to bring himself off in this form (again). Had he not been cursed with one shred of Watcher-cursed patience this evening, he’d have both hands around his dick, stroking himself in the same direction from root to end until he burst, careful not to cut himself on the glistening grey spikes (again). Which is why his human arms are pinned behind his back with two of his own tentacles.

There’re still plenty of other ways to please himself. Lots, in fact.

Gabriel teases the slit his cock grows from with a seventh arm, tilting his head back and moaning out a stream of bubbles. Golden bliss glitters through him as he traces each slick edge of the sensitive opening with the tip of his arm. He stretches the slit to near-uncomfortable fullness by thrusting the tip in further, relishing the briny taste of himself with an appreciative groan.

He can only hold back so much, now. He’s had one obsidian tentacle wrapped around his cock as soon as it grew from him, squeezing it in rhythmic pulses, like the ones Jihane makes when she comes riding his fingers. As long as he doesn’t move the arm up or down, the barbs aren’t (much) of a threat; he gets the thousandfold friction of all his suckers nuzzling his dick.

And it’s not just the physical. Here beneath the waves, as much immersed in Xeheia’s realm as mortal waters, there’s an umbral holiness to the act. Gabriel’s offered Xeheia so much pain across the years, by choice and by force and all of it underscored by bloodlust. But a salt price can be pleasure too. One he’s ready and willing to give.

Very ready.

He stops the shallow thrusts into his slit and brings that arm to wrap around his muscular shoulders and neck, leaving only enough tentacle to cover his mouth with its tapered end. Gabriel’s hands might be bound, but he can take a leaf from Hugo’s smutty book, at least this once. He bites down on the tough, rubbery flesh like he means it, hard enough to taste the bitter black blood of his half-shadowkraken form. Gorgeous, delicious pain explodes through him like cannon fire, destroying his turns of edging as surely as a ship’s hull.

No choice but to screw his eyes shut as he shoves himself past the precipice, falling forward into a yawning abyss of pleasure as dark as the Depths themselves.

His flexible cock grows straight and rigid in the throes of his climax. Every barb stands at attention, more pain cascading through Gabriel's senses as the prongs cut into the single tentacle he keeps curled around it. Milky grey fluid spurts in time with the pulse of his dick, over and over, clouding the waters with his new salt price, blending suffering and release into an inseparable mix. Gabriel jerks in his self-made restraints, inhaling blessed waters through his nose only to moan them out through his partway covered mouth, bubbles tickling his own flesh.

After long moments, the tide of tension recedes. It’s an effort to ease the tight grip of tentacles from the generous bulk of his body; each sharp pop of a sucker peeling from his skin leaves behind the portent of a bruise, the chain of which will no doubt be abused by his one-time captain in the coming days.

Worth it.

Gabriel stretches his now freed arms back and forth in the water, a twang deep in his shoulder reminding him he ain’t quite as limber as he used to be. Thus relieved, a wave of satisfaction crests and crashes into Gabriel. Post-peak euphoria draws a soundless laugh from him, his delight eagerly swallowed by his goddess’ sea.

There’s work to be done. There always is now. He’ll pull himself to a more human shape and get back to some of it. Eventually.

For now, he closes his eyes and drifts—in prayer, in pleasure, on purpose.

[liodain]

Gab and Hugo indulging in some Xeheia's fold culture for @ockissweek

[pedroam-bang]

Uncharted (2022)

[the-delta-42]

Damn

A/N: Had to repost because I forgot to do a few things.

Damn

Marinette exhaled quietly as the last customer left the Bakery, three hours non-stop, which was preceded by another three hours before she was forced to take a break. The usual help hadn’t shown up that morning and both Marinette and her mother had been swapping over at set intervals, while her father kept an eye on the oven.

Marinette had recalled hearing her parents complain about Jonathan before, but this was the first time he hadn’t shown up for work. Marinette heard the bell over the door go, before putting on her ‘customer service’ face, which quickly broke when she spotted her grandfather.

“You look dead.” Came his blunt statement.

“Jon didn’t show up this morning.” Said Marinette, “Normally, we’d contact his wife, but neither are picking up.”

Rolland was quiet, “He’s the one that’s older than me.”

“Yeah, I think he’s supposed to be retired.” Remarked Marinette, “Papa and Maman are in the back, I think I heard them arguing about the consistency of some icing for a cake.”

Rolland shook his head, before walking into the back. Marinette sighed, before the bell over the door rang again. Marinette took a deep breath in and looked ahead.

“Welcome to Tom and Sabine’s Bakery, how may I help?” Said Marinette in her ‘customer service’ voice.

“You didn’t turn up for Orange Juice.” Said Kagami, making Marinette slump forwards.

“I knew I forgot something.” Groaned Marinette, “First Jon didn’t turn up and now I forgot about our drink, what’s next, Adrien telling me I forgot some project?”

There was a stiff silence, before Kagami looked to the side. Marinette groaned and dropped her head against the counter.

“Kill me now.” Groaned Marinette, “Of course things are going to shit, Jon doesn’t turn up, then I forget about our drink date and the class project and Luka saying that we ‘need to talk’ tomorrow.”

Kagami frowned, her head tilting slightly, “Is wanting to talk a bad thing?”

“Kagami,” Said Marinette, through her hands, “when one party in a relationship says, ‘we need to talk’ nothing good is going to come from it.”

Kagami was silent.

“Whenever Adrien says we need to talk, he shows me cat pictures.” Said Kagami, Marinette stared at her friend.

“Either Adrien is adorably naïve, or he doesn’t know what that phrase is used for.” Said Marinette, after a second.

Sabine poked her head out of the kitchen, “Marinette, go upstairs, you’ve done enough for today.”

Marinette smiled, until she decided to stand up, when her legs couldn’t take her weight and promptly collapsed onto the ground.

“Are you okay?” Asked Kagami, as Marinette hauled herself back up.

“I’m. Fine.” Grunted Marinette, as she made her way to the stairs.

Kagami watched her fall three more times before walking over, picking her up and carrying up the stairs.

D

“Can I have a kitty, Maman, pleeease?” Pleaded Manon, giving her mother the puppy’s eyes

“No, Manon,” Sighed Nadja, looking away from her computer, “having a pet is a big responsibility, and you can’t have one until you’re older.”

“B-b-but,” Manon whimpered, getting a sigh from Nadja.

“Manon,” Said Nadja, firmly, “I’ve said no.”

Manon burst into tears and ran off, getting a dejected sigh from her mother.

‘Stupid Maman,’ Thought Manon, not noticing the Akuma, ‘I am old enough.’

“Grown Up, I am Monarch. Your Mere believes you are too young for any responsibility, if you bring me Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s Miraculous and you’ll get what you want.”

“Okay.”

D

Marinette stretched as she stood up, carefully adjusting the table. Kagami glanced at the clock.

“I have to go, Mother is expecting me home soon.” Said Kagami, getting up, “Same time next week?”

Marinette nodded, “Want a lift? I’ve told Maman I’d deal with some of the deliveries today.”

“That would be nice.”

Five minutes later Marinette was driving her moped with Kagami and some deliveries.

“Why’d you retry things with Luka?” Asked Kagami, as they rounded a corner.

“I thought I needed to work on me,” Called Marinette, “I thought if I became a better version of myself, things would be easier with Luka.”

“Are they?”

“Nope.” Answered Marinette, as they stopped at Kagami’s home. Frowning, Marinette looked at her phone, “Hold on, did your Maman order from my parents?”

“She tried one of your family’s pastries and enjoyed them.” Answered Kagami, as Marinette pulled a bag from the case on her moped.

“Right, give me a moment.” Marinette hopped off the vehicle, and walking up to the door with the bakery bag.

“I’ll take it, Mother’s going to be in a meeting.” Said Kagami, taking the bag from Marinette, “See you next week.”

D

Marinette sighed, rolling her shoulders as she remounted her moped. She’d just finished her deliveries and was about to head home, part of her wondered why it was so quiet, before she shook her head and drove home.

Meanwhile, Grown Up ran across the rooftops, revelling in her freedom.

D

Yawning, Marinette looked around, before crossing the road. She smiled as Alya waved at her, before she heard someone shout.

“I AM GROWN UP, I WANT THE MIRACULOUS!” Alya and Marinette were hit by a beam of light, before Grown Up ran away.

“What the hell?” Asked Alya, before looking at Marinette and gasped, “Girl, look at you.”

“Look at me?” Marinette pointed at Alya, “Look at you!”

Both girls were at least ten years older, Alya was wearing a suit like the one Nadja Chamack wore when she was working, while Marinette was wearing a dark blue pant suit.

“Whoa.” Said both girls.

D

Adrien gulped as he looked at Marinette, thanks to the Akuma that aged anyone hit by their ray, Marinette and Alya had been hit and aged up to at least 25.

Adrien was quick to notice that Marinette looked 'smoking hot', as Kim put it, and had certainly gotten bigger in the chest and hips. He didn’t look at Alya, but he felt Nino was thinking the same thing.

It certainly didn't help when Adrien suddenly blurted out,

"Please step on me." Blurted Adrien, before he clapped his hands over his mouth. Adrien just wanted to die. He decided he would do it himself if he had to.

“Please do it. I wanna see what happens.” Said Kim, laughing as Adrien and Marinette’s faces went red.

“Shut up, Kim.” Said Alya, taking control of the situation. She removed her blazer and dropped it on top of Marinette’s, “We need to focus on more important things.”

Adrien thought he saw Nino covering his nose, while Marinette folded her arms across her chest.

“Yeah,” Said Alix, pointing at Nathaniel, “Like why does Nath look homeless?”

They glanced at him, Nathaniel was hit by Grown Up as well, but while Marinette and Alya looked healthy and well dressed, Nathaniel was filthy and unnaturally skinny.

“I don’t know.” Rasped Nathaniel, before he hacked up a cough.

“Hold on.” Lila, who’d also been hit by Grown Up, grabbed a torch from her pocket, she had a doctor’s coat on and a hospital ID, she crouched in front of Nathaniel, “Open up.”

Nathaniel grimaced, but slowly opened his mouth, Lila visibly recoiled and nearly dropped her torch.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see that every day.” Muttered Lila, as Marinette crouched next to her.

“Is that a…” Marinette tilted her head to the side.

“There are a couple of masses, one at the back of your throat and another on your gums along your molars.” Said Lila, frowning, “But…maybe you should cut back on the cigarettes.”

“How can you tell he smokes?” Asked Marinette, as Alya joined them.

“Staining on his fingers, his cough and the state of his teeth and gums.” Answered Lila, before stiffening, “How the hell do I know that?”

“I’ve got some news headlines on my mind and Marinette’s got some meetings on hers.” Said Alya, before glancing at Nathaniel.

Marinette groaned, “We’re getting off subject, sorry Nath, but I think we can focus on our future problems when they actually happen.”

“Right.” The others nodded, as Nathaniel reached into his pocket for a pencil, before he frowned and pulled out a syringe.

Lila quickly took the syringe from him and put it on Bustier’s desk.

“We need to find the Akuma, get all this fixed and go back to hating each other.” Marinette glanced at Lila and Chloé, who’d also been hit by the beam, “So, what do we know?”

“She calls herself ‘Grown Up’.” Said Lila, “So, it’s likely that she’s a small child that’s been told she’s too young for something.”

“Okay, so if we can figure out what she wants, we could distract her with it.” Said Alya, shifting.

“But, to do that we’d need to know who she is.” Said Marinette, getting a scoff from Chloé.

“Out of everyone in the city, the first two she targets are you two.” Said Chloé, “Most people target people they know, so, do any of the brats you baby sit want something they can’t have?”

The class watched as Marinette frowned, before her jaw dropped, “Oh my god.”

Marinette ran out the room, leaving everyone at a loss.

D

Marinette carefully put the box on the table, getting frowns from everyone.

“What’s that?” Asked Alix, as Marinette reached into the box and pulled out a kitten.

“Someone dumped an entire litter in my family’s bin.” Said Marinette, as the other kittens started mewing, “I showed them to Manon and she’s been besotted with Tiny since she met her.”

Alya raised an eyebrow, “Tiny?”

“Because she’s small.” Answered Marinette, before heading towards the door, “Hopefully, finding Manon will be easy.

D

Grown Up was running around the park, despite her name, she looked more or less the same, with ‘grown up’ make up on her face. Marinette wanted to coo at how adorable it was, while another part of her wanted to roll around laughing at how ridiculous Manon looked.

“Manon.” Said Marinette, getting the Akuma’s attention, “Come here.”

“Marinette!” Grinned Grown Up, running toward Marinette, “Have you got Kitty?”

Marinette nodded, “But, if you want her, you need to give me the Akuma object.”

Manon rapidly nodded, all but throwing a sheet of paper at Marinette. She handed the kitten to Manon, prompting the animal to start purring. The sound of someone skidding got Marinette’s attention, turning, she found Chat Noir. She smiled and held the piece of paper out to him.

“You might want to get this to Ladybug.” Said Marinette, before heading off, “Could you watch her for me, please? I need to do something.”

Chat absently nodded, allowing Marinette to slip into an alley way, she saw a guy sitting amongst some bins, but quickly noted that he was asleep.

“Tikki,” The Kwami appeared out of Marinette’s pocket, “Spots on!”

A flash of light woke the man from his sleep, seeing an Adult Ladybug swing out of the Alley, he looked down at the bottle of whiskey and started to pour it away.

Ladybug landed next to Chat and took the piece of paper from him, “Thank you.”

Chat stared at her dumbstruck, as Ladybug tore the piece of paper and purified the Akuma. Pulling up a lucky charm and casting the cure, Ladybug found herself back at her normal height. Chat almost looked disappointed.

“We better get going,” Said Ladybug, drawing her arm back, “I’ll make sure to point Marinette back this way.”

“Okay.” Said Chat, quietly as Ladybug left, “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Marinette skidded to a stop in front of Chat, “Sorry, I had to move my moped.”

“Okay, M’Lady.” Marinette’s eyes got impossibly wides.

“Wha-” “Marinette!”

Marinette looked at Nadja, who was running up to her, “I can’t find Manon! Her father thought she was with me and I thought she was her and…”

“She was Akumatized.” Said Chat, pointing toward Manon and Kitty, “It was dealt with.”

“I should’ve said,” Said Marinette, “we had some low-life dump a litter of kittens in our bin. I’ve been cleaning them up and nursing them until we can rehome them. Manon saw Tiny and, well, fell in love with her.”

Nadja gnawed at her bottom lip, watching Manon play with the kitten.

“She’s helped me with feeding them and playing with them.” Continued Marinette, “She’s also calmed down easier when the kitten’s with her.”

Nadja walked up to Manon and looked at the cat, before looking at Marinette, “She is house trained, right?”

Marinette nodded, “They know to use a litter tray or to go outside. I’ve actually had to go on my balcony wearing gloves because of them.”

“What does she eat?”

“Normal cat food, but she is partial to a piece of salmon every so often.” Answered Marinette, “Of course, she still needs to be chipped and spayed.”

“I’ll handle that.” Dismissed Nadja, as she picked Manon up, “I’ll drop around later to hash things out.”

Marinette smiled and waved Nadja, Manon and Kitty off, before whirling around on Chat, “How do you know?!”

“Both you and Ladybug were older.” Answered Chat, as Marinette gaped at him.

“So was Alya!”

D */Ten Years Later/*

Marinette quietly hummed to herself as Felix and Noir rolled around the room, she heard Hugo and Louis fighting over a toy and Emma gurgling up at Adrien.

“How’re things turning out with Nath?” Asked Adrien, looking up from their daughter.

“Lila’s managed to get him the medical care he needs,” Answered Marinette, as she flipped through her designs, “I think Alix is trying to get in contact with Marc, and Chloé and Sabrina are trying to get access to his home.”

“What about his problems?” Asked Adrien, as Noir barrelled into his leg.

“They’ve confiscated all the drugs he had on him,” Marinette sighed, “but he might have to be admitted to a Rehab facility.”

Adrien sighed through his nose, looking down at the cat clawing his way up his leg, “Plagg, a little help?”

“I keep telling ya, Kid, I don’t speak Cat.”

[thechosenpumbloom]

A collection of random box covers of both notable and not so notable MS-DOS horror games. All credits to people on Mobygames. Feel free to add.

[lady-nette]

a reality TV show where its just stupid drama that goes on between the agreste family (like keeping up with the kardashian's level stupid)

[gabrielhugoauthor]

I still can’t believe how good my poem sounds as spoken by this British guy 😂💯👍

[bog-teeth]

the caretakers.

ARTFIGHT! 2/3

[aldrendaux]

Chapter Summary: "Mary and pals return from their day at the beach with more questions than answers..."

[aliatori]

Leap of Faith

The Forsaken and the Forsworn | Post-Fate | Gabriel Berthelot/Hugo Melançon | 3k words | Mature | T4T

Gabriel’s not entirely keen on the idea of leaving the Enclave.

Sure, it ain't the Umbra with the cool comfort of its misty shores, and Watcher knows there’s much and more to do back at The Storm’s Eye, but Gabriel's well and truly charmed by the unique delights of the Sungold. With so few days left before the Squall and Tide are set to get underway on their respective courses, he’s determined to enjoy them.

A waterfall twice as wide as Gabriel is tall roars behind him. Its waters whip to a frothy white as they descend over the crest. The noise fills his head with a pleasant blankness like the rush of blood in his ears in the heat of battle, or the pressure of Xeheia’s holy waters in his ears as he submerges to pray.

There's also more green than his eyes rightly know what to do with all around: moss and lichen draped over every inch of rock jutting up from the clear blue waters, vibrant hues of jungle decorating the sloping peaks of other Trinoran isles on the horizon, and bell-shaped petals the pale hue of fresh sweetmelon draped on flexible branches overhead.

One shade in particular snags his attention at present: the sea-glass green of Hugo’s eyes, sharpened to a fine pique.

“What?” Gabriel spreads his arms wide. Since he’s already divested himself of everything but his focus, the gesture affords Hugo an unimpeded view of his nakedness. “You act like a doddering old man preparing for your own burial at sea, I’m gonna call it like I see it. There was a time you’d’ve beaten me and been down in the water already. Now you’re sittin’ there like a sour headwind.”

A gratifying flush blooms from the vee of Hugo’s lavender vest to the underside of his jaw. Anger, lust, or general vexation—the source of his consternation hasn’t ever mattered to Gabriel, and sure as all seven hells it doesn’t matter now. He just likes that he’s ruffled Hugo’s feathers.

“Let’s say I’ve developed a certain distaste for sailing close to the wind.”

“Let’s say you’re full of shit.” Gabriel ticks points off on his fingers as he lists them. “Fisting a god, stealing ships out from under the noses of merchants, bringing me and the fold to the Enclave in the first place, hells, burning down a whole godsdamned Imperial port—yeah, I know that one was you, don’t look so surprised. Play at even keel all you like, but don’t pass it off as anything but an offering for your secret-eater.”

Hugo puts his hands behind his back. The new definition in his scarred biceps means he must be clenching his fists. Another point in Gabriel’s favour.

“That’s a creative way of calling me a liar. For you, anyway.”

“If I wanted to call you a liar, I’d say it plain. I’m saying it ain’t the whole truth, and you know it, and I’m sick of settling for subterfuge and signal flags from you. We’re past all that.” At Hugo’s flat expression of disbelief, Gabriel laughs without mirth and adds, “As past it as the two of us are ever gonna get.”

Hugo rocks back on his booted heel. A raw wound flashes across his face. There’s a stretch where Gabriel thinks Hugo will find some forthcomingness. But then he looks off into the distance, treating Gabriel to a familiar stoic profile, so whatever notion he’s grappling with only bloodies the waters of this particular argument.

He’s long past the days of chasing after his former captain, and lucky for him, there’s a quick and diverting exit from this conversation he no longer wants to have. He’s three strides from the edge of the waterfall when a coil of familiar metal captures his forearm.

Alright, so maybe he doesn’t chase after Hugo.

But there’s still the fucking riptide of his presence to contend with, drowning any urge to break free. There’s a fissure in Hugo’s expression, a crack in the hull in want of sealing.

“This…” Hugo begins, trailing off, gesturing with his other hand to encompass himself, Gabriel, the cliffs, the seas beyond. “Brings back memories that are difficult. Unpleasant to recall.”

The tempest of Gabriel’s temper builds and breaks on his indignant exhale. “Yeah, you don’t have to remind me of how bleedin’ unpleasant you find the fold. You’ve made it pretty godsdamned clear. So piss off and—”

The rest of his swears vanish in the warmth of Hugo’s lips on his, urgent, insistent, tongue all velvet heat as he delves into Gabriel’s mouth. He kisses like it’s the only apology he knows how to give, or like he’s gasping for air, or like a prayer in a language they still share, and by the time they break apart, Gabriel’s heart rivals the waterfall as it pounds in his ears.

“Not every part of those memories is unpleasant,” Hugo says in a low rasp, grazing his teeth along the stubbled skin fluttering in time with Gabriel’s pulse. He pulls back to fix him with a stare of breathtaking intensity, lips pursed in thought. “Everything worth remembering includes you.”

A mutiny erupts out behind Gabriel’s ribs. It’s as close as Hugo’s gotten to the words he, for whatever gods bedamned reason, talks circles around, the ones involving ‘I’ and ‘love’ and ‘you’ next to each other.

He’ll take it. For now.

Gabriel cradles the back of Hugo’s head in his palm and draws him close until their foreheads touch. “’Course it does. I’m unforgettable, by your own lengthy and colourful admissions. And spectacular. The best captain to sail the Fourfold and veritable holy terror.”

“Second best.”

“I’ll remember that when I’m heaving half the fucking ocean up to save you from getting pincered by a bunch of navy dogs.”

“Perhaps you’d do better to remember why you’re permitted on Enclave shores at all.”

“Well, Jihane and me have taken a shine to each other, so I reckon I’ll be invited back. Especially since it’s the Squall she asked to sail aboard and not the Tide.”

“And I wish you luck in accommodating Jihane and her… exacting standards.”

“Nothing the best captain in the Fourfold can’t handle.”

There—a rebellious twitch of Hugo’s lips, buried beneath the overwrought consternation he strangles it with.

With a snort, Gabriel shoves Hugo’s bare shoulder. “Even second-best captains aren’t afraid of such a tiny risk like some cliff jumping. Besides, I ain’t hearing any alternative propositions for the evening’s entertainment.”

“I have a few.” Hugo looks Gabriel over from head to toe with filthy intent, and while tempting, the beck and call of the sea below raises a different kind of tide in Gabriel.

“Would it kill you to relax for a godsdamned turn and follow my lead?”

One bold eyebrow wings up. “Kill me? Hardly. But it would certainly be a leap of faith.”

Gabriel turns away from Hugo to look over the cliffs and the basin below. It’s a glittering, dizzying drop, enough to make his head spin, but he’s no stranger to a plummet. His blood heats in anticipation.

“Everything’s a leap of faith these days, Captain Melançon, in case it’s escaped your fine weather eye. Comes with being at the beck and call of forces beyond our ken. So why not start here?”

Without waiting for an answer, Gabriel pivots, swallows the ground in two long strides, and launches himself off the cliff's edge, his joyful bellow echoing through the oasis. The freefall snatches his stomach and pins it to the base of his throat. He flips through the air, ass over end, clutching his knees to his chest in the last moments, and then—

He plunges into the sea like a shout, saltwater rushing over the ink of his bondmark and bringing him to a second kind of life. Gabriel exhales as momentum drives him further downward. Xeheia’s presence fills him as he inhales blessed water, a thunderous euphoria joining the mortal delight of a leap off the edge.

For a moment, he’s tempted to drift further down, to commune, to pray. To find where aquamarine becomes sapphire becomes deepest black.

But for now, there are other matters to tend to.

With the orange and pink sunset to guide him, Gabriel orients himself skyward. A series of powerful kicks gets him most of the way to the surface. He breathes out Xeheia’s sustenance, breaches, and inhales the soil-after-rain scent of Enclave air, grinning wide and laughing loudly. The power and majesty of the waterfall impress even more from this angle as he treads the waters disturbed by its arcing flow.

Squinting, Gabriel glances up and sees Hugo leaning over the edge before vanishing beyond it. Figures. It’ll be a decent climb back up the cliff, so he may as well enjoy a swim before he heads back to the uptight son of a bitch.

Instead, he finds himself in a meditative trance as he treads water, lulled into a prayer-like state of calm by the nearby waterfall. Gabriel’s never been this close to one or seen one this large. It’s not the Depths, or the enchanted veins of water laced through the Storm’s Eye, but there’s a holy might to it all the same.

Then a motion from above draws his eye.

There’s no mistaking Hugo’s form—not the ass-naked state of it, nor the elegant twist of his lean limbs as he dives off the cliff into the waters below. Gabriel holds his breath as he watches Hugo soar through the air in a graceful arc, then expels it in jubilation a moment later, whooping and hollering. A blink later, Hugo slips beneath the surface, cutting through the water clean as a knife, vanishing without a sound.

Each passing moment turns Gabriel’s excitement acrid. The bubbling sensation toes the line of fear. His own difficult memory flashes behind his eyelids unbidden: Hugo floating, lifeless and prone, bleeding and blackened.

Before true terror can take hold, Hugo takes hold instead, using the element of surprise to drag him beneath the churning surface of the lake.

The world vanishes in an expanse of crystal blue threaded with green. Gabriel aims a vicious kick in Hugo’s direction, aiming to dislodge his hands from his ankles. Maybe bloody his nose up a bit for the trouble, too. He manages the first goal if not the second. Hugo treads water beside him; orange-gold sunlight from above dapples across his skin, his silver-streaked hair floating in an aura around his head, grin no less fierce for being toothless. He rotates in the water and propels himself upward.

Bold of him to show his scarred back to Gabriel.

He does Hugo a kindness by letting him get a couple good gulps of air in. After all, Gabriel’s rarely interested in an unfair fight, no matter his reputation past and present. Then he glides over, grabs Hugo on either side of his waist, and drags him right back under.

Were it not for the blood-warm waters of the Enclave flooding the spaces between their limbs as they wrestle, it could be a time ten Risings passed. He could be a first mate again, lust-sick, half ready to put a knife to his palm already, insubordinating his way to a dunk in the sea for the joy of Hugo’s attention in Xeheia’s waters.

The present makes itself known in other ways. Hugo, the slippery bastard that he is, lands a punch on Gabriel’s tit with his artifice hand as he shoves away. The pain forces a bubbly stream of Watcher-blessed air from his lips. But the throb of the impending bruise matches the interested one in his dick, which hasn’t changed much at all.

Gabriel gives chase. They collide in slow motion, the powerful currents from the waterfall making the lake harder to move through. He wraps one arm around Hugo’s thighs from below, blocking Hugo’s slow-motion swat with his other elbow. The angle gives him a great view even with all the thrashing: the dark curls between his legs, the scarred muscle of his chest, and the ferocious set of his jaw. He looks away from Gabriel, towards the surface, throat bobbing. His lungs must be burning by now.

Here, another marker of change. Once, there was a time Gabriel would have held him under and watched him drown. (Would have tried, anyway.) Instead, he releases Hugo, content to gloat about his victory when they’re both above water again.

Hugo swims towards him instead.

Strong hands, one metal and one flesh, grip Gabriel’s shoulders, Hugo using him like an anchor to situate himself. Fathoms-deep emotion lurks in the vivid green of his eyes, and there’s Gabriel’s heart again, twisting like a fish out of water. Heat builds low in his belly and coils outward as Hugo weaves himself into Gabriel’s bulk—chest to tits, thigh wedged between his legs against his stirring dick, and of godsdamned course, a hand in his hair, to get him right where he wants him.

Gabriel doesn’t mind. Much.

Not when Hugo places his mouth to Gabriel’s, demanding even as he yields, a moan vibrating through his chest as Gabriel breathes sacred air into his lungs. Hugo drinks him down. His calloused palm charts a course along Gabriel’s neck and collarbone, coming to rest in the valley of his chest, right next to his thundering heart.

It fills Gabriel with uncanny rapture.

His bondmark fills with magic, skin thrilling as his power seeks, quests—

And finds nothing.

It’s gotten easier, these spiritual stumbles, but not easy. Xeheia’s gift proves a storm wind howl, searching for a port, or maybe a shore to destroy.

Gabriel gives it both.

His limbs burst with power, merging and uncoiling into four, six, then eight tentacles. There’s a pain like a good, deep stretch, then a sickening lurch of his stomach, and then finally bliss, Xeheia’s magic coursing through him as rapidly as the nearby waterfall. Hugo pauses their breath sharing to draw back, eyes widening in surprise, then narrowing as Gabriel wraps slick, powerful limbs around each of Hugo’s. His pupils are wide as the dark moon, his teeth digging into his lower lip, and that’s when Gabriel kisses him.

It’s like this they breach the surface, a tangle of arms and legs and tentacles, Hugo held fast in his embrace whether he likes it or not. They’ve drifted to a distant curve of the cliffs around the brackish lake, the roaring waterfall behind them.

Gabriel won’t ever feel Hugo bond-to-bond again, but this—his Xeheia-blessed arms tracing the ghostly scars of his butchered bondmark, coiled against the wet heat of his folds, squeezing the taut muscles in his thighs and calves—is as good a substitute as he’s getting. If he focuses hard enough, Gabriel can almost sense the faint echo of magic, the last shred of Xeheia left in Hugo’s spirit.

He's got other things to focus on, though.

“Quit while you’re ahead and release me, Berthelot,” Hugo says, pitching his voice in that too-familiar way to be heard over the thunderous susurrus.

“Your mouth says one thing, but your cunt says another.” To illustrate his point, Gabriel slides the muscular tentacle between Hugo’s legs back and forth. The slickness there ain’t all him, that’s for godsdamned sure, and Hugo’s strangled gasp only proves his point further. “You know what a white flag looks like. So go on and wave it, then, if you wanna go so bad.”

Consideration weighs down Hugo’s expression. While he’s thinking about whatever vagaries are in the offing, he pinches Gabriel’s nipple hard, rolling it between his fingers afterward.

“You ain’t exactly helping your case, doing that.”

Hugo, being Hugo, does it again, just harder this time. A final limb, barbed and sensitive, begins to unfurl from the slit tucked between Gabriel’s tentacles, swelling along with the heat in his blood.

“And what,” Hugo begins, dipping his head and sinking his teeth into the corded muscle of Gabriel’s shoulder, eliciting a string of curses from him. “What case am I trying to make, exactly?”

“Oh, the usual.” Gabriel’s airy tone belies the strength he uses to grip Hugo’s jaw, heart pounding as he admires the black tips of his limbs curled against Hugo’s neck. “I best you, you refuse to admit I bested you and act the sore loser, we fire some shots across the bow and maybe punch a few earnest holes in the hull, then we both get what we want anyway.”

“Is that right?” Hugo tries to pry Gabriel’s arm away, fingers splayed across the sacred ink spilled there. He’s still got a tentacle or three free, so he lifts one from the water and wraps one coil of sucker-covered muscle around Hugo’s forearms, lacing them tight as his own precious boots. “Seems you’re getting ahead of yourself without a plan. As usual.”

Unbothered, buoyed by pleasantly warm currents, bitten by sharp teeth of lust, Gabriel admires the picture before him: Hugo, arms bound above his head, muscles tense against the restraint of Gabriel’s Xeheia-blessed body, glaring daggers even as his hips grind and roll against limb between his legs.

Gabriel trails his barbed cock along the outside of Hugo’s thigh and curls it around his backside, a quiet moan rumbling in his throat at the resulting shiver of pleasure. Fury darkens Hugo’s features, but the circles along the undersides of new limbs can sense—can taste—the fresh arousal pulsing from his cunt.

“You know me—I learn by doing. So I reckon we’re about to find out together.”

[nofatclips]

Élégie, a short animation by Odelia Laine, Esther Legido, Andréa Martínez, Alissende Masson, Hugo Michalet, Arthur Wong

[purple8cat]

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