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sporadicwritingstuff · 10 months ago

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forbidden fruit

She kneeled on the cold, knees numb on the hard marble floor, praying fervorously with a rosary between her fingers, tears streaming down her cheeks, through closed eyes.

Her whole body ached, burned even, as she prayed to the heavens to be let out of the chains of that torture. She wanted to find peace. That was the reason for her to seek religion and, even further, took the vow to become a nun, seeking relief of all material and carnal issues.

For a long while it had been like heaven. She grew accustomed to the simple routine, to the never ending chores and prayers, enjoying also the meals shared with her new family. Days passed by with ease, light and bright as she felt finally inner peace

But then, everything changed.

Every night she was plagued with sullen dreams, and wept, thighs wet with desire yet parched with the need of relief. She melted silently every night, sanity escaping through her fingers like sand, unable to quench the thirst she harbored inside. The wanting but denial. Push and pull. In and out.

In and out. In... and out. In and out and in again-

Between moans, she pleaded to her god, pleasing her body and losing her mind, her soul, wondering if she had been cursed. Believing it was a curse.

Unable to find solace on her routine and the chores, and the praying and the nightly torture, she found herself kneeling on that cold marble. Throat raw, dry, from praying, for a last time, for a miracle, to be saved.

It was so easy to fall into perdition.

"One more sleepless night, little lamb?" his words were like honey, like pure sin. her body quaked, even before his hands found her shoulders, the warmth of his skin seeping through her habit, coursing through her body, finding that deep spot inside of her that she desperately needed to be reached.

"Please," her lips moved, not daring to look at him yet. Because she knew, once that she opened her eyes- once that he met hers, he would know. He would be able to see all the undisclosed desires in her heart.

His fingers touched her chin, and as she gasped with the simple gesture, she knew it was over. Her eyes met his, his dark stare immediately pulling her in, pinning her to place. He looked at her from above. With tears brimming her eyes she understood: he too wanted the same things of her. It had been clear, right from when he arrived to the church.

Sin embodied. Visions flashed through her mind, and she tried to avoid, but as he smiled, everything came flooding in.

His hands cradling her head, finding her hair and gripping fistfuls, pressing her face to him, her mouth open, greedly ready to recieve his essence, to let him use her, that once sang praises to the lord, to stuff her throat full, sink on her until it was raw and she could barely breathe.

Him hardly minding her habit as he pushed it away, pressing her face to the altar, exposing her shame for the empty crowd filling the pews, prying his fingers one after the other, tortuosly slowly, because she was an undeserving slut, as he would hashly whisper in her ear. He'd praise her for how wet she was, how delicious she tasted, baptising himself between her thighs, but not ever giving her relief, not until she cried, and begged for it, much like she beg her god for forgiveness.

"Let's pray together, little lamb. Let's stray you back into the path."

She could see the devil in his eyes, in how sweet was his smile, his words. Alas, she took his hand, when he offered it. It was her perdition, but felt right, as she belonged.

For the last time, as she let herself sink into the depths of the abyss, she chanted her god's name, as a goodbye, to peace, and to the light.

#pwp drabble #pwp fics #priest x nun smut #heretic #heretic smut #heresy pwp #smut

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optiwashere · 1 year ago

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Please write your thoughts about the importance of Shadowheart for Shar/Selûne :D

I FEED on character analysis.

SO!!!! This got long as fuck and also morphed into what you asked + a general character interpretation.

I relied on a combination of 2nd, 3rd, and 5th edition D&D lore, R.A. Salvatore novels, and of course BG3 as sources. Shadowheart's characterization adds up the most coherently on the purely romance / "get her away from Shar" path, and that is what I'm using as a basis for this post. Even when you're playing an "evil" route, she behaves in ways that betray a lot of what I get into under the break. This post, however, is biased towards the "good" path of her personal quest for the sake of my sanity and a somewhat reasonable word count.

First, a preamble for people that are maybe less knowledgeable about Forgotten Realms lore.

One of the biggest characterizations of Shar and Selûne in the Forgotten Realms is that they are twin sides of the same thing: night. Night as an aesthetic is symbolic of, among other things: mysteries, being lost without guidance (such as in faith or purpose), and finding oneself when one reaches for the truth. I.e., reaching light from the moon, stars, or daybreak (which is itself a symbol as the natural conclusion of darkness being light for redemption following suffering, goodness defeating evil, finding faith, etc.)

Shar and Selûne are sisters that also share the Night domain in 3e, a sort of fulcrum they both work around — Shar as the "malevolent" darkness with Selûne as the "benevolent" night. There is even a recognized heresy called the Dark Moon heresy in both cults/religions that Shar and Selûne are actually the same goddess playing one gigantic trick on Faerûn (this comes from a 3.5e splatbook called Power of Faerûn) but it's been pushed time and time again that the two sisters are, in fact, two separate entities. But duality of divinity, and how worshipers interpret their god, is a theme we see played up a ton in BG3.

What we know about Shar is that she despises her sister. Loathes her. Not only does she loathe her, she tricked Selûne's followers during the Time of Troubles, about 140 years before BG3, into worshiping her instead of the Moonmaiden. The Time of Troubles was a period when gods walked the Realms, rather than tossing avatars around everywhere. This lead to the formation of a fanatical group of cultists that followed the real Selûne, called the Lunatics (I'm still proud of managing to reference them in a goddamn Explicit PWP fic)

Meanwhile, Selûne is seen as a calming force. She wars with her sister every single night, and does not like her one bit, but she does it as a means to protect others from her sister rather than as a spiteful game. She's not as omnipresent in people's lives, she is just a natural force to a lot of her followers.

How does any of this relate to Shadowheart? Spoiler stuff and the actual character analysis under the break.

We know that Shadowheart was a "chosen" of Selûne as a child, per her parents' dialogue under the House of Grief. However, it's important to note that most religions in Faerûn name potential clerics as "chosen" ones of gods and goddesses.

We know that, throughout the game, Shadowheart learns that she is being manipulated by the Lady of Loss to do acts that go against some sort of internalized moral code that Shadowheart has. We see her approval go up when you do good acts (as long as you ask for compensation, or if it's to help helpless people/animals) and we see her disapprove when you press her boundaries or act unjustly cruel. "Unjust" is left so vague because she does not behave at all according to how the vast majority of Sharrans behave. There are numerous other flags for approval/disapproval such as her enjoying playful chaos, or disliking when you're too trusting of other companions when you first meet them, but we'll focus on the first set I mentioned.

We also know that Shadowheart was continually subjected to memory erasure via the cult of Shar in Baldur's Gate. This gets mildly restored here and there via the tadpoles and Dame Aylin, but her memory is mostly gone. So this moral code is something ingrained in her somehow, because Sharrans don't have kindness training. There's another entire character analysis to be written about Viconia's role in this as it relates to her own character in Baldur's Gate 2, but let's ignore that for now.

In the cloister under the House of Grief, there is a note you can find that outlines the squad sent to find the artifact that protects everyone from the Absolute's domination. The squad has a leader, and it is not Shadowheart. She is listed as "healer" and the text before this explicitly states that the entire squad is expendable. None of them matter to Shar.

BUT!

Divine visitation by a goddess is incredibly rare. It usually only happens to high level clerics, which Shadowheart isn't really even at 12th-level, and to those that the goddess has an extreme, vested interest in. If you free the Nightsong/Dame Aylin instead of killing her, Shadowheart is wrenched out of the Material Plane and made to suffer for an indeterminate amount of time. That, plus literally meeting Shar in the conclusion to her personal question, is very odd given what we know about Shadowheart.

If we presume that Larian did their jobs, and I'm going to because I trust them, then there is an immediate dilemma presented here. Either Shadowheart matters to Shar (she is not expendable), or she is just another zealot (she is expendable.) There is no half-truth in that logic table that really works for Shar, she's an absurdly dogmatic goddess. See: literally any Sharran you encounter in BG3 that isn't Shadowheart. It's possible that the writer of the note didn't know what they were talking about, but I think that's a lazy out that doesn't hold water with the rest of the evidence.

So, which is it? This being the part where I'm mostly in interpretation territory, Shar views Shadowheart as the perfect puppet, a toy to needle at her sister, not because she is important at all as a person, but because she's a representation of Selûne that Shar can mold to suit her image as she did in the Time of Troubles. We hear that in the game when Shadowheart basically says that she was just a thing for Shar to use. She's beaten into (what Shar believes will be) submission for not becoming a Dark Justiciar, but it only serves to sever the tie between cleric and goddess.

Shadowheart is Shar's answering play to Selûne beating that trick from the Time of Troubles, and there will be another Shadowheart after her eventual death. Shadowheart is both incredibly important and utterly worthless to Shar in the same way that an abuser uses affection and trust to hurt their victims. Love bombs in the form of divine power, sending her on this important mission, and offering the title of Dark Justiciar are followed by pain when Shadowheart displeases her. As if, on a whim, all that supposed mutual respect could turn into non-consensual, extreme violence.

Shadowheart is an objectified opportunity for Shar to fuck with Selûne for the entirety of a single half-elf's lifespan (anywhere from 150-200 years) and nothing more. A plaything to discard when all is said and done after a microcosm of time where a goddess is concerned. Whatever Shadowheart thinks she's benefiting from with Shar, it's all a trick. It's a massive delusion with which she's been brainwashed into participating.

And deep down, deep deep way deep down, Shadowheart knows this even in Act One. She spouts random sayings and the sorts of 2edgy4me one-liners that you would expect from a somewhat goth-y, slightly sassy Stock Evil Cleric in a fantasy RPG. For a good portion of Act One, you wouldn't be wrong to assume she's extremely one note and a total zealot. That is, unless you know two things:

That Shar is a fucking menace in Faerûn, and nothing good ever comes naturally from her cult. Anyone that knows FR lore was probably like me when they first interacted with Shadowheart. I know I basically said, "What the fuck, you're not a Sharran lmao. Either Larian goofed hard, or something's fishy here."

That extraordinarily devout people tend not to babble in verse, prayer, and all that unless they are also trying to convince themselves to have more faith in a set of beliefs that they're not entirely sold on. This isn't 100% of the time, but it's something you see in people whose faith is not very strong. People who have ironclad faiths and hold consistent ideologies tend to rely more on personal interpretation of faith, for good or ill. You see this all over BG3 in the people that are more confident in their beliefs, as well. Isobel, Orin, and Z'rell are three wildly different angles on that, for example. It's really all over the game in the NPCs.

That second point is the more important one here. Shadowheart, in Act One, is constantly talking about her goddess. If she's not hiding the artifact from you, she's couching an event in concern over what Shar would think of how she behaved. Like she's still a scared child who doesn't know how to handle what's happening around her despite being completely capable in scenarios as hectic as melee combat with ogres. The difference shines bright as day if you play a follower of Selûne and push back on her beliefs, though you do of course get a lot of vitriol in the beginning. Even so, it's clear that Shadowheart knows something is off about Shar whenever confronted with actual Sharran activity/belief, but she's been brainwashed and abused so horrendously that she constantly tries to "correct" herself to appease her abuser.

Selûne, however, isn't really a "part" of Shadowheart's quest in the same way as Shar. The Moonmaiden is not an active participant, she is not a guiding hand or even a faint idea in Shadowheart's thought processes because of how intense the memory blending got for her. The most we ever really get of Selûne's opinion comes from external sources (pretty much entirely from Shadowheart's parents, Isobel, and Aylin when she's not PROCLAIMING DIVINE RIGHTS.) To the Moonmaiden, Shadowheart is really just another of her many, many children spread throughout the Realms. Yet, Shadowheart retains that sense of inherent goodness that Selûne instils in her followers.

Unlike the Lady of Loss, Selûne's indifference isn't hateful or spiteful at all. For Selûne, the ultimate goal of any of her followers is to find themselves. To illuminate who they are meant to be by moonlight. Two of her domains in 3rd edition are Protection and Travel, and in 5e she has Knowledge as well, while one of her "mantles" (the domain equivalent for psionics) is Freedom. She wants to give her followers the ability to freely tread whichever road will lead to self-actualization.

Selûne demands almost nothing of her own followers so long as they act according to the basic tenets of a traditionally Chaotic Good deity. She accepts flaws, faults, and failures in her clerics as much as she rewards strengths, virtues, and victories. There is no divine intervention from Selûne because she accepts Shadowheart intrinsically as long as Shadowheart finds herself. All it took for Selûne to take Shadowheart back after forty years of being a fanatical Sharran was saving one person, and trusting one of two people that we know she's let in for that forty years (the PC, as well as possibly Nocturne) — Selûne sees that she's an abuse victim at the heart of it all.

Side-note: Selûne's primary holy symbol is two eyes surrounded by stars. She is always a passive witness to her clerics' deeds. I don't think I need to get into that symbolism.

Whenever given the chance, Shadowheart values freedom incredibly highly. Even in someone she can take the entire game to warm up to, such as Lae'zel. Her dialogue after Lae'zel denounces Vlaakith speaks directly to this. It's seen repeatedly in her comments on other characters' personal quests such as Astarion, or Karlach, and with Lorroakan's intent on imprisoning Aylin in Act 3.

Once Shadowheart is pulled away from Shar's influence in the end of Act 2/early Act 3, she is... not a completely different person, but she is absolutely a calmer individual that also allows her emotions to surface more intensely. If you're romancing her by Act 2, she confesses that she wants to be with the PC (forever) IMMEDIATELY after being punished horrifically by Shar; she progresses the romance far faster once Shar is out of her brain; she cries, alone, in front of the PC if she chooses to listen to her parents and spare herself from Shar while also killing them. She's known this entire time that she's purposefully holding parts of herself back, and this is her immediate reaction to being set free.

Of course, it's a video game and things aren't always perfectly paced, especially considering the implementation of the Long Rest system. Much of this interpretation requires you to accept that.

After the small dialogue about Shar's intervention after the Gauntlet, the narrator comments that you're not sure if telling Shadowheart where her divine power now comes from will break her spirit forever. That's interesting, and it makes her almost manic change to "I have to be with this person forever" in the romance so utterly sad. Shadowheart is an almost textbook depiction of someone who struggles immensely with vulnerability and emotional openness due to childhood neglect and abuse. Even worse, she's been suffering that neglect and abuse for forty-plus years and she cannot remember what life was like before the time when she constantly yearned for the approval of her abuser. When she's set free and given the appropriate space to manage her feelings (all of the times she asks to be given space/asks the PC to respect her boundaries), support from friends and loved ones in the way Larian handled the camp crew's reactions to everyone's personal quests, and a purpose in life that extends beyond her abuser, she flourishes almost immediately.

To Selûne, Shadowheart is simply another person finding themselves in a world that's incredibly difficult to navigate. Under Shar's domination, Shadowheart will never be anything more than a useful puppet that dances happily whenever her goddess asks, pleased to be what she thinks is useful as she wears the false title of Dark Justiciar. With Selûne watching but not pushing, Shadowheart can be free of everything but her own choices, her own mistakes and victories. Her own person, freed from expectation.

P.S. "Breaking out of toxic thought patterns" is a common thread in the companion romances and quests. In a similar way to how Astarion uses sexuality to mask a part of himself in his romance, Shadowheart sees all this time she's spent holding herself back as an excuse to reverse course and accelerate ridiculously fast by comparison.

My point is, she is a U-Haul Lesbian.

#hey you can ask me things!#shadowheart #bg3 spoilers #shadowheart analysis by yours truly #shadowheart's romance has some interesting mirrors to viconia's from bg2 #there is a phenotype for unsure sharrans and it comes back to “why do I trust this person so much?” and battling with that #also shar should absolutely share the Twilight domain in 5e

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nubuckleather · 5 months ago

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(I hope I'm not bothering you too much with asks btw, I just love another buddietommy enjoyer I can talk to :D)

Would you read a long Eddie/Tommy fic where instead of Buck, Tommy kisses Eddie and they start dating?

I was trying to find some Eddie/Tommy fics like that, but only got one-shots (and all of them pwp, which is fine, but not what I'm searching for).

I'm cooking a canon divergence in which Tommy and Eddie kiss after Tommy takes Eddie to the hospital. He still talks to Buck, but it is all very platonic.

I'd like to explore repressed Eddie, and we know Tommy is not afraid to cut things short if he thinks the other person is not ready. This can lead to interesting dynamics, like heavy angst with Eddie wanting, yet not allowing himself to fucking take it.

It hurts Tommy too, of course. He hates not being with Eddie, but he rather suffer alone then dragging the man into something he can't deal with yet.

It just has so much potential, you know? The problem is that I LOVE bucktommy. I'd feel like committing an act of heresy, the utmost pure form of blasphemy against the Gods.

It’s never a bother to get buddietommy etc asks!!

My two cents about an Eddietommy canon divergence is that what sets Eddie apart from Buck is he’d be a lot more willing to be honest upfront about his insecurities re: dating and being with a man instead of trying to bluster through it, which is why I could see a first date between Eddie and Tommy being more successful than what happened in canon—Tommy’s willing to be patient for the right guy, and if he thinks Eddie’s the right guy, he’ll let him set the pace. It won’t be as lighting speed as Buck’s pace, but I do find it crucial to their dynamic that they both have to be willing to work for it—if Eddie’s so repressed that he’s not making an effort beyond self-pity, I don’t think that would be enough for Tommy to want to stick around for him. Eddie would definitely need a little more time before he’s ready to be out to everyone in his life, but I think in the meantime he’d communicate to Tommy that he wants him and he’s working on getting there.

#inbox #eddietommy #911 abc

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sarsaparillaswords · 1 year ago

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Tell me what to do!*

Time to start a new project! I'm asking YOU to tell me what it should be! Details below if you care about details (or you can just click something, this is all for fun)

Robin Hood AU: Here's the first fic.

Take on Me, Griddlehark edition: I wish I had the skills for animation, but we'll have to settle for a still image or maybe a 2-frame gif.

SamBucky: I barely got started on these, but for you, I'll take another stab at one of them.

Old art prompts: From this post on my art blog. I got a couple of requests right before I dropped out of fandom for a few years.

Snubes: people don't have soulmates, but their snubes do. Exactly as stupid as it sounds. I get to pick the ship.

Jod: How long would it take to resurrect 10 billion people if you had to do it one at a time? I have a lot of thoughts about the incomprehensibility of big numbers and John Gaius is going to think them for me.

Cathar PWP: Very historical. Very tragic. Very porn, but the porn is all directed masturbation. My brain thinks this is a good idea for some reason.

Other: put something in the comments or tags.

*poll is for entertainment purposes. OP does not promise to do as they are told

#sarsa's words #polls

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viciousgold · 2 years ago

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some fun no context ao3 tags I've seen in hdm fanfiction regarding either marisa, marisa and asriel, marisa and lyra, etc. (most of these are regarding marisa and asriel lol) there's also a sprinkle of marisa and mary thrown in (SOME HDM SPOILERS MENTIONED, some nsfw mentioned)

idiots in love - heretics in trouble - sinning - Marisa keeps Lyra -bad parenting, but it gets better -feral Lyra Belacqua - angsty as shit - Marisa being Marisa - chaotic romance - Edward Coulter (cameo) dani: bruh idk why this tag made me laugh so hard

because they are stupid and I love them, also I will throw hands with god for them, and then write a 200 page analysis of their relationships - alethiometer use - Marisa Coulter is bad at feelings, Marisa Coulter needs a hug - Ex sex - I needed something sweet so I wrote something sweet - Stelmaria is the only braincell around there - Heresy - Bad Ideas and Reckless Behavior - Criminal Activities

Drinking to cope, but not in an excessive way, but there is, as the title suggests, a lot of alcohol in this - absolutely clueless idiots - two science gfs with two different lives - locket origins - feral heretical parents and lovers, because I've shipped them since I was 13 so what, peak romance is fighting non-stop then jumping into an abyss to save your child

Thorold's appearance is brief - Allow me to rewrite the script from this episode, if the writers gave us nothing I will do it myself - I wrote this while listening to Taylor Swift's music - asriel is kind of a bitch - Dadriel - The Affair: Part 2 - Asriel gets some sense knocked into him at an earlier date - one dad joke was made - church adjacent sex - girlboss murder dynasty - I just feel compelled to use science metaphors when it comes to Masriel - Asriel is smart and clueless - Marisa is desperate manipulative and possibly unhinged - Stelmaria is the only reasonable adult here - mother trying her best - childhood trauma but we see the trauma

Marisa keeps turning up the heat - Thorold saw/heard too much and probably got paid too little - Whatever happened to Thorold? - reminiscing on hate sex - absolute abysmal misery, but it's sort of happy in the end - The Subtle Knife but with Mrs. Coulter tagging along - A little Stelmarisa sweetness to lighten the angst - Canon compliant if you try hard enough - they're sad and horny people - this is a Lantern Slides type fic, except because it's me a single Lantern Slide is 3000 words long - shameless sitting around

a first and last attempt at writing about science - no literally it's just pwp - monster thesis (affectionate), monster thesis (derogatory) - Roof Sex - kind of angry sex but feelings too - Asriel being Asriel - Little Lyra is the cutest thing ever - We need more fluff so here it is - church stuff - two stubborn adulterers - in which canon is changed and destiny doesn't like that - murder flirting - 5000 words of emotional ineptitude

#{ childlike rambunctiousness } memes lol #oh look another dani shitpost #the mun; dani

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limerental · 2 years ago

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ficletober 2022 day 23 - dijkstra/geralt

Over a decade later, Dijkstra finally has the opportunity to repay the humiliation Geralt subjected him to in the wake of the Thanned coup. He doesn't expect both of them to like it so much.

warning for explicit sexual content, vague spoilers and that this is not game canon compliant but frankly this is just yucky, embarrassing pwp like be warned, the horny 4 Dijkstra leapt out

There'd long been rumors that the Witcher had died and that he'd done so senselessly, not even on some grand quest or in a bloody, monstrous battle but mundanely, suddenly, and quietly.

Dijkstra collected the more absurd rumors with glee, stacking them up to peruse through on days he needed a bit of a laugh. Some said the Witcher choked to death on a chicken bone. Some say he fell mucking a stable and gored himself on a discarded tool. Some say he just died, that something popped in that weird mutated head one day, and he didn't wake up from a final sleep.

The more realistic and likely deaths-- of a pogrom, of a minor skirmish, of a rage-filled mob, Dijkstra found less amusing, only because he'd still held some hope that he would run across the bastard again some day and see how he liked a wrecked ankle or two. Or at least gotten the last word in, ruffled his feathers enough to be satisfying.

But the Witcher was very likely dead, and that satisfaction would elude Dijkstra forever.

It was years and years before fate suddenly dropped him, very alive and ignorant of the lingering hostility, directly into Dijkstra's lap. He appeared one day without fanfare at the Novigrad office of Sigi Reuven, local philanthropist and scholar, secret purveyor of rumors and heresy and copious blackmail material.

Infuriatingly, Geralt of Rivia looked just the same as he had more than a decade ago. Sickly-pale and perpetually like he'd just stepped out of a downpour, yes, but also with the wiry body of a young man and barely a new wrinkle on his unfairly handsome mug.

Meanwhile, on the cusp of sixty years, Dijkstra felt nothing but older and fatter and jilted by a universe who had delivered him this opportunity for payback so easily a good few years after he really gave a shit about it.

His ankle still pained him, but now, he walked with an imposing cane with the head of a golden eagle rounding under his fist that had proven itself very excellent at busting the occasional kneecap, which seemed an alright trade-off. The rest of his body pained him just as much as the twinging ankle, and he was willing to let bygones be bygones.

No, he no longer cared much for revenge. It seemed like a lot of hassle for little reward.

Geralt was finally there in his office, bearing a bottle of wine as a show of good will, likely about to ask him for information he needed for some doomed venture or another, and surprisingly, Dijkstra didn't really feel like breaking both his legs when he looked at him.

But he did feel something.

"The information will cost you," said Dijkstra, his body warmed by the wine. Geralt sat in a red velvet chair facing Sigi Reuven's massive mahogany desk, swirling a mug of wine in his gloved palm. He'd propped his swords and gear by the door, looking bare without them, and had also discarded his jacket, shirt collar loosened in the heat of the room.

The fireplace crackled, and the light cast warm shadows on the Witcher's muscled forearms and the cut of his collarbones, giving his usual pallor some heat and wavering in his strange eyes.

"Since you're an old friend, I won't charge you an arm and a leg," rumbled Dijkstra, grinning a sharp smile at his own joke. "But there's a price for everything. Up to you whether you're willing to pay it."

"That depends," said Geralt, head cocked. "Name it. Your price."

He looked like he'd already sussed something out, the clever little thing, maybe something in the way Dijkstra was looking at him. Maybe the bastard could smell pheromones. Scent lust.

For that reason, he didn't bother dancing around anything or playing coy, not that he was really capable of that.

"Kneel on the rug," said Dijkstra. He held up a hand when Geralt moved to do so, ignoring the little thrill at being so swiftly obeyed. "The rest of that off first. Every scrap."

Geralt tugged his gloves from his fingers and put them aside, then pulled the white shirt from his waistband and tugged it over his head. Scarred and sinewy torso glistening in the firelight, he shucked free of his trousers with an unfair gracefulness, not even getting caught up in a leg or hopping on one foot, and was suddenly wholly bare.

Dijkstra cursed the mutagens of Kaer Morhen that allowed this creature of over one hundred years or more, to look as though he were carved from marble by a sculptor with excellent attention to detail.

"Kneel," Dijkstra repeated needlessly, as Geralt already folded to the rug, knees sinking into plush fur. "Hands behind your back."

The rug was the pelt of some exotic beast he'd downed on a hunt in Zerrikania years ago. A spotted, elusive beauty that paled in comparison to the rarity of the creature kneeling before him on display.

It pleased Dijkstra to have it confirmed that the pigment loss affected him everywhere, the white of his body hair making the ruddy flush of his erection appear that much deeper. It was equally good to have the confirmation that their banter alone aroused Geralt the same way it did Dijkstra. How rare it was to encounter a person sharp enough and cynical enough to match him barb for barb.

He'd wondered years ago at that dreadful banquet if the burn in Geralt's eyes, the desire behind the wry twitch of his grin while they chatted together was all wishful thinking, and now, he knew it hadn't been.

For a little while, all he did was watch, hiding the slow rub of his palm against himself behind the massive desk. The Witcher held unnaturally still , the only sign that he was a living thing at all being the slow, steady breaths visible in the slight swell and flex of his belly and the shrewd glint of animal eyes that told Dijkstra he knew just what was happening behind the desk.

Dijkstra snatched up his cane and stood, rounding the desk. He loomed, an easy feat for a man so large, but he rarely felt so deeply pleased by the smallness others shrank to before him, as he did looking down at the kneeling Witcher.

He looked miniscule, slender as a twig.

Dijkstra remembered the easy snap and wrench of his bones in the grip of this creature and thought I could do the same to you. I could bid you to bend forward over the desk and break you in half.

He knew even as he thought it that something like that would not satisfy. Dijkstra knew it would only infuriate him further to feel the ease with which Geralt arched his muscled back and took what was given to him, and if Geralt looked back at him through the pool of white hair across scattered documents and twitched his mouth into that ugly, shit-eating grin that bared the sharp of his canines and asked something like that all you got for me, huh?, Dijkstra knew his poor ego would never recover.

He flipped the cane easily in his hand and nudged the eagle's head under Geralt's chin, lifting his jaw. His expression was flat, almost bored, and Dijkstra fought the urge to strike him hard across that pretty cheekbone, to draw a bit of blood, inspire a mumbled curse.

Instead, he loosened the ties of his trousers with his free hand and drew himself out to liesurely stroke, a shiver running through him as he watched Geralt's eyes drop to his fist. Dijkstra knew that the bigness of his hands shrank the organ to a deceptive smallness, the truth of its girth revealed only in the hand or mouth of another.

He could do something like that, allow the blunt head of his cock to rest on the pink of Geralt's mouth and request his lips to part, a broad hand cupped over his temple and cheek to feel the strain in the hinge of his jaw as it accommodated him.

But Dijkstra was a smart man and knew better than to forget this creature's fangs.

He settled for quickening his strokes, fist going slick with his eager arousal. He held the length of his cane steady under the crook of Geralt's chin as he did so, quivering a little but never dropping.

Geralt's eyes were molten gold, and for a long time, his face did not betray what was going on in his head. His gaze flicked from Dijkstra's hand to his face and back again for many long minutes, until finally, as though sensing something, he lowered his lashes and let out a breath.

"Come on then," he said in a gruff rumble, and Dijkstra's orgasm struck up through his gut like it had not since he was a young man, wet streaks of ejaculate pulsing across the scarred cheek, the crooked nose, the white lashes. It dripped from his brow and pooled in a socket, that eye squinting shut as his other opened, pupils blown dark against the gold sliver of the iris.

That could have been the last of it. A fulfilling enough balm for the pain and humiliation he had suffered years ago. Degradation for degradation. Their feud laid to rest and shame repaid.

But Geralt's tongue flicked out to catch a trickling drop pearled at the bow of his lips, and the upward tick at the corners grew to an open smirk.

"You got somewhere I can clean up?" he asked.

Dijkstra thought of taking him downstairs to the stone bath in the basement, warmed and waiting. He could imagine how Geralt would feel in his lap, thighs gone taut and wide to straddle him, Dijkstra's hands feeling up the dip of his slender flank.

He knew that he'd failed in his intended humiliation even before Geralt's eyes flicked down to his softening cock.

He said, "maybe a second round, if you can manage it."

Dijkstra burned.

How deeply fortunate Geralt was that Dijkstra liked the thought of teasing him beneath the heat of the water more than he did breaking his nose with the smack of his cane.

He funneled tje aggressive impulse into dragging the Witcher up by his white hair, gratified by the panting swell of his chest as he regained his feet, gasping against the pull.

Dijkstra led him without a word down to the baths.

#my fic #dijkstra x geralt #the witcher #ficletober #i am not a smut writer but sometimes you gotta you know?

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