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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 months

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A Bed Of Electric Flowers (18+ Vox x Reader)

Vox x Reader Rated: Adult Content: Established long term relationship, Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral, cowgirl, vox blue screens, missionary.

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

AN- Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum (I could cry it looks so good- that’s a lie, I *am* crying)

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The ringing of your doorbell startled you out of the tv trance you had been in for the last few hours. Vox was working late, as was typical, and you deserved to have a couch potato night with popcorn, trash tv and, comfortable pajamas that you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend’s drawer.

“Delivery,” A voice called from the intercom at the door.

As was building policy, the delivery person left the item on the table by the door as soon as you acknowledged them and left. You were not expecting any deliveries at the moment but it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for you boyfriend to send gifts and trinkets on a whim.

At times it felt like he was trying to buy your affections. You knew that simply was just how Vox was. It didn’t help that in the past he had had partners who had to be bought to forgive his long work hours and dedication to maintaining his position, both in life and in death.

You didn’t need gifts and jewelry but that didn’t stop him from getting them for you.

What you needed was his time and fortunately, that was more often than not what he had in short supply. Vox worked hard and he worked a lot. That left you alone a lot of the time. You loved him though and because of that love, you were committed to making it work.

Opening the door, you found a vase full of the most beautiful blue and purple flowers you had ever seen. The arrangement contained some you knew from life, some you had only seen in death and some you’d never seen before at all. It was clearly an expensive arrangement, flowers from up top came with price tags few in the Pride ring could afford.

The simple gesture warmed your heart and made you smile, though it wasn’t needed. No matter how many times you told him though, the gestures would never stop.

You had always loved flowers and while Vox thought it was silly since they would just wilt and die, it wasn’t uncommon for him to indulge you when he’s realized he had been away for longer than you liked.

You hummed as you carried them inside, setting the vase on your nightstand after clicking the TV off. It was getting late and it was clear Vox wasn’t going to come by again tonight if he sent flowers. May as well get your beauty sleep, right?

You ran your hand along the back of your neck as you brushed your teeth, wiping the sweat away. The weather in Hell was predictably hot and sometimes the AC couldn’t keep up, even in Vox tower. It seemed like tonight was going to be one of those nights.

After a look to the comfortable embrace of your bed, you turned on the shower. The cooling sheets would help but lowering your body temperature first would help you get off to sleep even more.

Slipping out of the old fashioned button down shirt and loose shorts, you stepped into the shower. The water was warm but not hot as it ran down your back and soaked through your hair. It felt nice. Really nice.

If you closed your eyes, it almost felt like Vox’s hands running over your body instead of the water. Your mind ran away with that thought. Soon you were standing in the water, imagining the feeling of his firm hands running along your curves. If you tried hard enough, you could feel the way his screen would warm the back of your neck.

The shower wasn’t helping cool you don’t in the slightest.

With a sight, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. There was no one in your apartment to hand it to you, to make some thirsty comment about how good you looked wet.

You decided you were just lonely.

That was why you were restless. That was why you were hot all over. It had been two weeks since you had seen Vox and even longer since the two of you had last had sex. It wasn’t for the lack of attraction or desire, you were just at that comfortable stage of a relationship where when you’re tired and busy, quality time was more important.

You were just tired, lonely and horny. That’s all.

You wiggled your until your slightly damp arms made their way into into Vox’s button up sleep shirt. Every time you slipped into one of his shirts, it made you smile. It always reminded you of the way he would complain about how he missed the ease of a pull over shirt. All his tshirts had wide necks, comically so to accommodate his head.

It smelled clean, laundry fresh and not like his cologne. The only thing in your apartment that smelled like him was his pillow on your bed. The smell was fading on that too. He had been gone far too long, once again. But that wasn’t new. It was the same old routine, just getting longer each time he was away.

He was gone more often than he was there even though he had claimed to have all but moved in. You told yourself that you were okay with it. He worked a lot, often sleeping in his office for a little bit here or there instead of coming home.

Self pleasure wasn’t something you had particularly enjoyed but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were restless and heat settled into your core that simply wasn’t disappearing. Falling face first onto your bed, you let out a sigh.

“Vox,” You whined as you rolled onto your back, “I miss you.”

Silence answered your confession. He didn’t zap into the space with a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!” He didn’t didn’t even walk through the front door. He didn’t come home. Not that you expected him too.

Alone, again.

Your hand snaked down your body, slipping into the pair of Vox’s shorts you wore. May as well indulge, you decided. You were so horny and it’s not like Vox was there to take care of you.

As you caressed your clit, you thought about texting Vox. If you called him, would he come? Or was he in a meeting? With a sigh you decided it didn’t matter. You were so horny but you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t worth interrupting his work.

Your flinger ran lower, gathering slick from your opening to pull up to your clit. You were far more sensitive than you expected, gasping at each teasing pass of your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Normally you wouldn’t be so wet, so sensitive without something or someone to get you going.

Your finger slipped inside you easily. You were so wet and though you knew what you liked and how you liked it, you struggled to bring yourself close to your orgasm. Each caress left you gasping for breath and yet all it did was make you want more.

A second finger slipped inside as you palmed your clit, trying to find that place inside you that Vox was so good at hitting. It was no use.

Minutes ticked by as you were left panting and writhing under your own touch as nothing seemed to be good enough.

With a groan, you pulled your fingers out from your core, smearing slick up your mound as your hand went to rest on your lower abdomen. You were so horny, it wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t be so horny.

In the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong.

Reaching into your nightstand you grabbed the small box inside. Within the box was the long smooth vibrator and the perfectly average dildo you’d had for longer than you cared to admit. It didn’t get much use and wasn’t worth upgrading.

The reality was, you hadn’t had much need for them after you had fell into a relationship with Vox. Before Vox, you simply had your old trusty tools to get yourself off quickly and move on with your nights.

As the vibrator came to life with the press of a button, you slipped the length easily into your sopping hole. The vibrations had your back arching as they moved through your insides. You moaned as you thrust it in and out slowly, ensuring it was coated with your slick before letting it run up to your clit.

Again you tried to bring yourself to orgasm and yet all you managed to accomplish was working yourself up even more, making yourself more desperate as you clenched around nothing. You rarely had to go through this much effort to satisfy yourself and yet you still couldn’t get there.

“Fuck,” you whined, grabbing the dildo and running the soft plastic along your slit to coat it with your slick.

You were so wet and so sensitive and yet nothing was enough. The dildo filled you, slipping inside with the ease of a good fit. It didn’t stretch you or fill you the way Vox did but it felt good enough to have something to clench around.

Working it in and out, you moaned. It wasn’t enough. You added the vibrator to your clit, holding it in place as you worked yourself over with the dildo. It still wasn’t enough.

Rolling onto your stomach, you pulled your knees under your chest as you tried to fuck the dildo into you the way Vox would when he took you from behind. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend it was Vox fucking you but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

“Vox,” You whimpered, imagining his hands on your hips. When you couldn’t will the dildo inside you into being Vox’s, you tried to imagine it was his hands holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit. You tried to tell yourself it was his hands working the dildo in and out of your weeping hole.

It didn’t stretch you the way Vox did. It didn’t fill you the way vox did. It didn’t call your name the way Vox did.

“Please, Vox.” You whimpered, eyes closed as you tried so hard to bring yourself to the peak that still eluded you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you worked the dildo in and out, your arm sore from the repeated movements. “Miss you. Need you. Want you, Vox.”

~~~~~<3

Vox walked into the dark apartment and glanced around, the dim red light of the windows filtered in through the privacy screens combined with the light from his screen to allow him to see his way.

You hadn’t waited up for him but that was alright. It was late and you deserved your rest. He was mildly disappointed though, having wanted to spend some time with you. There wasn’t anyone he could blame for it though. He made his bed, may as well lay in it.

He had been working too much lately, he knew that. The fact that you were so accommodating, so gracious about his work schedule was something he never wanted to take for granted. He had been, though. He knew that and he knew he needed to make it up to you.

Dimming his screen, he tossed his jacket on the barstool next to the kitchen island and made his way through the space. It had been your apartment but in his heart, it felt more like home than his own penthouse did. That was why he never pressured you to move up into it with him or to find a better place.

This was a space where Vox could just be Vox, not the King of the Tower.

A sound caught his ear, one that he didn’t expect to hear. Turning toward her bedroom, he followed the sounds of soft sighing and squelching. It was the sounds of sex.

His heart pounded in his chest, blood pumping hard through his audio processers. He had spent too much time away and if what he feared was happening was actually happening, he couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t blame you.

Would he kill the man? Without a doubt. Would he be hurt? Sure. But he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to blame you. You wouldn’t have been the first to get tired of waiting for him and go on to find another to fill the place he so often left vacant.

Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

You were on the bed, on your knees and head down. Your ass was up, legs spread as you worked a pale pink dildo into your sopping cunt. Each weak thrust squelched as you gasped softly. A vibrator was held weakly in your hand, pressed against your clit from below.

Your eyes were hardly more than slits, distracted by what you were doing. His presence wasn’t noticed as you softly called out his name again and again.

There was no one else. There was no other man. You hadn’t replaced him, at least not with anything with a heartbeat. The attempt to replace him artificially was clearly unsuccessful.

He knew you were not one that often took pleasure into your own hands. That wasn’t to say he had thought it never happened, just that he knew what was in the boxes in your nightstand just as much as he knew they had a lot of dust over their lids that had begun to build up.

Never did he expect to walk into the bedroom and see this. The sight made his knees weak as he stumbled to the bed. The emotional whiplash of the last few minutes had his mind fuzzy and heart pounding.

He wished he could smell the room. Did it smell like sex? Did it smell of your juices?

You didn’t notice he was in the room even as he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed. Reaching out with trembling hands, he longed for the feeling of your skin under his touch. He was too entranced by the way you worked the dildo in and out of your wet cunt.

When his hands made contact with the back of your thighs, you jumped. The dildo slipped from your hand and the vibrator fell to the bed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Vox couldn’t help but reach out, steading the dildo that was slowly was slipping from your hole.

“Vox?” you whimpered as he pushed the dildo deeper.

“What have you been up to?” Vox slipped the dildo out before pushing it back in again, fucking you with it again and again. “You seem needy. Been thinking about me?”

“Please,” you whined, rocking your hips back into the dildo, “Please Vox. Need you.”

“Alright,” Vox slipped the dildo from you, watching intently as your hole twitched, seeking the feeling of being filled. Rising from his knees, Vox set himself on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes. “Let me-”

“Need you,” you whined, crawling across the bed to join him.

You ran your hands along his back, moaning at the strong muscles under your hands. Pressing your naked front to him, you reached around to caress his chest and abdomen. You ran your hands across him, feeling the way he leaned into your touch.

“You’re making this hard, dollface.”

“I’ll make this harder,” you said, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants.

He was already hard, straining against the fabric prison he was in but you were determined to make him even harder. Breasts pressed tightly against his back, you worked his pants open and pulled him free before he had a chance to protest.

The slight glow to his erect member was always one of the most beautiful sights. You loved that you could always find your way to him in the dark. His hips twitched, jumping under your hand as you caressed his length.

“You gonna let me get undressed?” Vox’s voice glitched out for a moment, bright blue light flashing to bathe the room for a short moment. “I’m a bit overdressed still and you’re being distracting.”

“I need you,” if asked, Vox would say you poured around his side as if you had become liquid.

“Be patient,” Vox ordered as you all but curled around him, mouth drawing close to his glowing cock while he worked his tie free from around his neck.

You licked at the head of his cock, tongue greedy for the taste of him. His hands trembled as you wasted no time pulling his cock into your mouth, working to take him as deep as you could.

“Fuck,” Vox’s fingers curled, claws slipping into your hair as he fought the urge to push your head down on his cock.

Your pace was slow and greedy as Vox leaned back. He could see the curve of your breast , the soft lines of your body and feel your overwhelming warmth as you bobbed up his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

His palm pressed against the back of your head, forcing your head down his length until the head of his cock pressed tightly against the back of your throat. You gagged on him, throat spasming around his length as you fought for breath. He let your head up so that you could gasp a breath, sputtering and coughing before he shoved your head back down again.

As soon as he let you up again, you started crawling around him. Before he had a chance to think more about getting his clothes off, you were in his lap. With knees on either side of his hips, you kissed at where his neck peeked out from his open collar.

“What are you-?” Vox’s voice was choked off as you sank down on his cock, sighing at the way his larger size stretched you in a way your little dildo didn’t.

You shifted your hips as you sank lower and lower, all but purring into him as your weight settled into his lap. Your hips rocked, rising and falling ever so slightly as you let your body adjust to the significant increase in size from your little dildo, letting him stroke every spot deep inside you.

“Please,” your lips moved against the soft column of his neck, tongue tracing the line between his dark blue skin and the collar of his shirt. “Need you, Vox. Need you so bad.”

“You have me, doll.” Vox’s hands grip your hips as his voice distorts, static snow covering his screen for a moment. “Fuck, you have me.”

You rose up off his cock until only his head was kissing your entrance. After a moment, you sank again, slowly. You bounced as his hips and thighs made contact with you again. Each time you repeated this process, you did it a little faster.

You were fucking yourself with him just as you had fucked yourself with the little pink dildo. Each time his cock filled you, it was so much more satisfying than anything you had been able to achieve yourself.

Bouncing on him, you panted and gasped. Vox’s screen bathed your face and chest in a soft blue light as he sat, gripping your hips and watching you. His attention was divided, split between watching your cunt swallow his cock, staining his pants with your slick and the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.

His audio input was flooded with the sound of your sopping core squelching around his cock and your panting breath, cries of his name on your tongue. He struggled to focus on you as the fans in the back of his screen kicked on.

“Hold on,” his voice was garbled and his screen flashed bars and blue, “Babydoll-”

Vox’s screen went blue, too bright as was his default setting. The message “Error 34.420 virus found: Came too fast, damn Babygirl” was written in bright white on the screen as his torso fell back, hitting the bed with a soft thud.

You kept riding, working yourself on him as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls with the seed that was so unique to him. In the dim light of your bedroom, if someone had been looking in on their private moment, they would see the slight glow from his cum around your opening, coating his shaft as you lifted yourself off of him and smearing it onto his pants as you let yourself slip back over his length.

“Error 404 message not found cowgirl position too good,” Displayed on the screen.

Hiding your face from the bright light in his shoulder, you whined as you continued to ride him. Vox was nothing if not able to please, remaining hard inside you even as his systems came back online.

It wasn’t enough, nothing felt like it was enough.

Grinding against him, you fucked yourself with him as his systems processed. Tears pricked at your eyes and as you struggled to find the right way to stimulate yourself on his cock to make the fire burning in you lessen and bring the orgasm you so badly wanted to surface.

Something was wrong with you and you knew you needed Vox to fix it. He was the only man in all of Hell that could fix it.

His face went dark for a moment before coming to life again with a bright spark that grew and extended across the screen. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment before fading to reveal his bright eyes blinking to life with a deep moan.

His fingers twitched against your hips as he finished booting up and returning to life. Strong hands and hard claws gripped you, running up and down your back as you fucked yourself onto him.

“Doll,” His voice was thick as his nails lightly scratched down your back. “You good?”

“I need-”

“What do you need, Baby?” As more systems came online again, he began trusting up into your lazily. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

“I want to come.” You whimpered as his arms tightened around you. “I get so close but I can’t. Please. Please make me come.”

He leaned up, shifting your weight back into his lap as he pulled your face from his shoulder with a fist in your hair. You bumped your head on the corner of his screen but you hardly noticed the pain. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you too a blow from his sharp edges.

Vox kissed you deeply, static lips parting yours as he drank up your moans. He maneuvered you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you and placing your back on the bed. Your hand traveled down your body, fingers caressing your clit as you watched him lean back to admire the view. Arching, you writhed under his eyes, gasping as you fingered your sloppy hole, not giving a thought to the slightly glowing cum spreading on your fingers.

“Please, Vox. It’s so much- so much better with you inside me. It hurts less. Please, I need you back inside. Vox.”

Clumsily, he kicked out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off next as he covered your body with his. He wrapped your legs around his waist, mouth leaving electric kisses along your breasts as he lined himself up again.

“I’m right here, Doll. I’ve got you.”

He slipped in easily, spreading your walls around him. He groaned as he sank until his balls were flush with you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him. Nails dug into his thick blue skin.

He wasted no time, beginning to thrust into you immediately, slowly at first but becoming quicker as you urged him on. You begged, pleaded as his pubic bone brushed against your clit with each thrust.

Vox grabbed your hip with a hand, grip so strong his claws indented your skin. You only whined, ignoring the very real risk that his sharp claws would puncture your skin, placing all your trust in him to not hurt you.

He hiked your hips up, snaking his hand under your lower back to do so, changing the angle of your body. This new angle forced the head of his cock to push and drag harshly against the front of your walls, bulging slightly against your abdomen. Harshly, be bullied the spot inside you that he knew would reliably have you seeing stars.

He was not disappointed in the slightest with your reaction. Your mewls and gasps only encouraged him to continue, hitting that spot faster, harder.

Leaning back, he pulled your hips up higher. You were spread out on the bed, hands gripping his strong forearms at times only to flop down to the bed when he would hit your core just right.

“Vox,” his name was a prayer you couldn’t stop saying, “Please. So good, you make me feel so good. Want to cum so bad. Want to- need to.”

“I’ve got you.”

Vox’s claws dug into your skin, holding your hips tightly, allowing him to hold your hips and core suspended in the air as he rose on his knees, thrusting into you harshly. Your upper back and shoulders rested comfortably on the bed as you looked up at him through lust glazed eyes.

Parted lips gasped his name as he gave you what you wanted. Your breasts shifted with every violent thrust into you. Your toes curled and fingers twisted into the blankets. The dim blue light of his screen reflected off your skin, highlighting every curve, including the ever so slight bulge as his cock continued to push out against you with each thrust.

Vox’s hands were one of your favorite features. They were strong and powerful, yet capable of such sweet and gentle touches. There was another thing they were capable of. His claw rubbed against your clit, your lower back supported by his hand splayed under you.

“Want to feel you cum, Babydoll.” Vox panted, fans whirling as he maintained his body temperature.

Warmth spread over his fingertip before it shifted, static tingling over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Every thrust into you was paired with a rise in the static tingling against your clit.

“Please,” tears rand own the sides of your face as you felt the way your slick dripped down your body, running up your back. Never had you been so wet. Never had you been so needy. Never had Vox gone more than one round with you but if you could think straight, you’d be thankful to know he could.

“Going to make you come undone,” Vox promised, smile and eyes both wide as he took in the fucked out state you were in. He didn’t know what had you so worked up or why, but he knew it was just for him. You were just for him.

“Going to make you see stars. Going to make you- fffuck.” He groaned as your walls began to flutter and tighten around him. You were so close now. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Fucking made for me. So needy, so fucking hot just for me. Just for me.”

You grabbed at your breast with a hand, pinching your nipple as he pulled your hips higher. He loomed over you, filthy words falling from his lips even as he looked down at you with love clear in his eyes.

Reaching out for him, you ran your other hand along his chest as he folded closer to you. His heart thrummed under your fingers until your arm was too weak to support itself. Your hand flopped to the mattress above your head, spreading yourself across the bed just a little more as Vox watched you say his name as if it was the most important thing in the world.

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Come on Babygirl. Want to feel you cum on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking cum like only I can make you.”

The static spread from your clit as he spike, dancing over your body in powerful little blue arcs of power, leaving the most pleasant zaps in their path. Each little zap stole your breath. Soon they concentrated on every place Vox knew you loved most.

They tingled and zapped your nipples. Electric power danced over your throat, making muscles twitch as you failed to control your breathing.

So close now.

The electricity ran over her legs and across her abdomen, tightening every muscle against her control. Blue sparks lit up the space between your bodies in little blue flashes as it played over your clit, Vox’s hand no longer needing to make contact with it to keep it stimulated.

“Fffffuck,” His screen was glitching now, bars shooting across the surface and distorting his face as you clenched tightly down on his cock.

Your back arched and twitched, fingers gripping whatever they could reach as your body convulsed around him. Each contraction of your cunt had him moaning, voice glitching as much as his screen as he fought to stay present and ride out your much sought after orgasm.

You screamed his name as the twisting pressure crested and white hot pleasure burned every nerve ending in your body as it snapped. Vox fell forward, holding your hips tightly as he fucked you through it.

“So good,” He praised in that garbled voice that told you how close he really was again, “Such a good fucking doll. Fucking came so hard for me. Feel so good. Squeezing me so good. So good.”

He fell to his side, pulling you onto your side as your body continued to flinch and clench with every ounce of stimulation he gave you. His screen was glitching more as your begging shifted into words of praise and thanks, basking in the sweet relief and aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Babygirl,” Vox said, “Doll, I’m- I’m going to- going to cum agai-”

His screen went blue as you felt his cock twitch with the force of his second orgasm. More cum painted your insides as fans ran at high speeds. Fingers gripped you, holding you close enough to feel his thundering heart under his dark skin while his hips rocked against you.

“Error Code 34 Message not found. Please reboot.” Displayed on his too bright screen when you glanced up at your lover as he stilled, finally feeling spent and at peace. “Orgasm over ride. System Vox.exe has stopped working due to overuse. Vox.exe Unresponsive. Please reboot.”

You fell asleep to the soft sounds of your boyfriend, the powerful tech overlord rebooting slowly with you tucked into his arms and under the hard edge of his screen.

~~~~~<3

Vox blinked the sleep from his eyes as he leaned over the coffee machine, willing the pot to fill faster. He was tired, his muscles were sore and he didn’t get nearly enough sleep but it was worth it.

Whatever the hell had gotten you in that mood last night, he needed to figure it out and repeat it. He had woken after just four hours of sleep and sacrificed his early morning work in favor of scrolling through your history.

Was it invasive? Probably. He wasn’t known for respecting privacy. It couldn’t have been something he did, he hadn’t been around. While he clutched the first cup of coffee from the second pot, he again went over what you’d been watching and found nothing that would have made you so desperate for him.

He found nothing in your message history either, with him or anyone else. There was nothing in your reading history, your internet tabs. Nothing.

There was equally no trace of whoever had sent you the flowers he was currently fondling. He found no record of you purchasing the flowers for yourself so someone had to have sent them.

He was just getting ready to dig into finding out who when the buzzer on the door rang.

Opening the door, he almost dropped his mug at who was on the other side of the door. “Val?”

“Vox?”

“What are you doing here?” They asked in unison, both demons not really used to interacting with the other in the early morning hours. Wide eyes blinked nakedly, both sets exhausted.

Vox hadn’t seen Valentino awake before noon unless he just hadn’t gone to sleep yet and even that was a rarity after five.

Valentino hadn’t expected to find Vox casually dressed on one of the lower, cheaper floors of the tower.

Vox crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and drinking casually from the black mug in his hand. He crossed his ankles as he narrowed his eyes, “It’s my girlfriend’s unit. Why are you here?”

Val’s big bug eyes blinked at Vox, processing the information slowly. “My… My flowers were delivered to the wrong floor.”

Vox relaxed instantly, easy smile returning to his face as he disappeared inside. He reappeared with the flowers in hand. “I wondered where they came from.”

“Right,” Valentino looked from the flowers Vox deposited in one of his sets of hands and back to his partner. “And you’re… feeling okay?”

“Sore,” Vox laughed, “Been a long night if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Valentino blinked again, “Right.”

“Been busy,” Vox nodded, “She was feeling a bit extra needy.”

“I’m sure she was.” Valentino said, looking down at the flowers again. “Was there a cover for the blooms?”

“Not that I saw,” Vox shrugged.

“Vox?” You called from in the room, his too big button down draped over your frame as you made your way over to him, sleepily wrapping your arms around his chest as you pressed your front against his back. “Is everything alright?”

“Just some business,” He answered before looking back at Valentino. “This stays under wraps.”

“Right,” Valentino said again as Vox shut he door in his face, leaving Valentino alone to figure out how to get through the tower and back to his studio with uncovered sex flowers. He had to find a way without having half the employees dropping their pants and starting an orgy before the cafeteria had even ended breakfast service.

Valentino looked down at the flowers, enjoying the way their pollen made his spine tingle. His power mingled with them to keep him under his own control but he hadn’t expected to find Vox unaffected but it sounded like his girl was.

For a moment, Valentino lingered at the door, considering telling Vox before changing his mind. It wasn’t his business.

#vox x reader #vox x you #vox smut #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox x you #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 2 months

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The Arcana HCs: When MC turns into a small, wounded animal

~ this was inspired by a short conversation in the server lol ~

You're not sure how exactly it happened, but one moment you were strolling quietly along the tree line, and the next moment in a flash of magic you were a fraction of your size and completely overwhelmed by the shift in sensory input. What had been knee-length grass towered over your head like densely-packed trees. You took off in an awkward, four-footed run when you sensed massive footsteps nearby, but your unfamiliarity with your new form quickly had you landing wrong on a small, fuzzy paw with a nasty twist. You flop on your side in shock and discomfort as the shadow of a fully-grown human looms over you, hoping that whoever they are, they'll be kind.

Julian

Saw you running away as he approached you and (in typical fashion) blamed himself for what was clearly a sprained paw

Good thing he's a doctor! He'll take you home and get you all set up and treated for your injury, no payment required

His hands are surprisingly cold when he scoops you up, but his grip is steady and gentle. He bundles you in his large woolen coat (which smells like leather and salty air) and carries you back in the crook of his elbow like you're a human baby and not a small animal

Oh, and he talks

He talks to you the whole way across the field, into town, through the streets, and into his clinic. (pausing to say hello here and there)

He wants you to know that you're going to be just fine, that he's going to make things "right as rain", and that he has an excellent pillow in the corner of his office that you'll love snoozing on

As he gets into town, he wants you to know all sorts of other things. That person mixes the best (strongest) drinks. That person is the best at darts. That person can get you anything for a price

The clinic smells like stress and pain, but he's very quick to give you some soothing scritches behind your ears as he takes you back to his office, sets you down on his table, and starts bandaging you up, distracting you with soothing comments

He has given you name already and going by how often he checks in to give you pets, he is going to take you in, he just doesn't know it yet. His raven appears shortly after to stand guard over you

Accuses you of "petnapping" when you poof back to human form

Asra

Approaches you to help, not because they feel guilty for what they can tell is partially their fault, but because they're picking up on a pretty intense enchantment that's piquing their curiosity

Takes a moment to hold out his hand and let you approach him before picking you up, and does so very carefully and gently. Has really warm, soft hands and smells like freshly burned incense

Talks to you a little bit just in case you can understand them, mostly just to let you know why they're picking you up and that they noticed magic on you and they have good intentions

Talks at you a lot more. He's mumbling and muttering on and off the whole way back to his place, idly petting your head and nose as soon as he notices you like it, spouting off ideas of what's going on

Faust opts to wait until you're back inside a safe room on a cushion before she makes her appearance. She's well aware that she looks like a predator to you right now and doesn't want to scare you

That, and she needed to convince Asra to make a proper introduction and reassure you that you aren't about to get eaten

If you're able to settle in she'll stick right next to you, coiled around your pillow to make sure you're not lonely or scared

Asra, on the other hand, is following several trains of thought at once, all out loud both to themself and to you and Faust

He's juggling the source of the spell, the solution to the spell, the fact that you'd make a good pet, and - oh yes- your injured paw

Slightly disappointed they didn't have time to solve it when you poof back to your human form

Nadia

She fully intends to just keep walking, assuming that you (the small animal) will be able to figure it out on your own, but her deep-seated sense of responsibility forces her to check on you

Oh dear. You're limping, and clearly scared and alone

This won't do. She'll have to take you to the nearest vet, or animal shelter, or maybe to what's left of Lucio's old menagerie ...

Very firm and polite about how she approaches you. You get two seconds to sniff her hand (which smells like the world's most heavenly and expensive flower garden) before she picks you up

It's clear she's not very used to carrying small living things, because as intentionally as she's marching you back to the Palace, her hold on you is very stiff and awkward. It's hard to balance

She doesn't speak much beyond giving instructions to her carriage driver and the guards as she enters the Palace. Once the two of you are alone, though, she sets you down carefully for a talk

You seem like a very sweet creature. She must admit that she's grown rather fond of you as she's carried you around. She apologizes for scaring you and for any discomfort as she held you

Now that she's considering it, she may wish to keep you. She can promise that all of your basic needs will be met, and that she will find at least five minutes to half an hour to spend with you daily

Her talk is cut short when the vet arrives, and as soon as you're bandaged up she's sweeping out of the room to get back to her duties, leaving Chandra to keep an eye on you if you need anything

Asks you where the lovely creature is when she returns that night

Muriel

Oh he's not hesitating for a second, he's carefully approaching to help as soon as he sees that you're hurt and quietly reassuring you

It's clear this man knows what he's doing. He gives you as long as you need to approach his outstretched hand, and sits unmoving for minutes on end so you can be completely familiar with him

The biggest, warmest hands you could imagine when you're finally ready to be picked up. Your whole body easily fits in just one of them, but he's snuggling you to his chest to keep you safe anyways

Will cover you with his cloak for extra comfort

Gives the best pets and reassurance. Sure he could crush you in one fist but he is scarily good at giving you scritches around your ears and chin and speaking just enough to calm you down

Sets up a very comfy spot for you at just the right distance from the fire with exactly the types of food you need to eat

Takes care of your paw so gently and expertly that you barely feel a thing, and then praises you for staying calm and calls you brave for letting him help you. Does not stop petting you at any point

Does have to leave a few times for the rest of his day's tasks, but not before he takes his time introducing you to Inanna and making sure you feel comfortable and safe around her

And goodness gracious, you're the safest little creature in the world once she's decided to look after you. She'll sit guard over you with a paw on either side of you while she watches the door

Yes, Muriel is in the hut when you poof back, and yes, he's immediately bright red at all the words you heard him say that day

Portia

Rushing over to look at you, not because she can tell you're injured, but because you're a small, cute, fluffy animal and what else is she supposed to do when she sees those? Walk on by??? Never!

A little surprised when you don't run away, and very pleased when you willingly approach her outstretched hand to get to know her. Which is when she sees the way you're limping and figures it out

You're hurt! That's awful! Don't worry, she'll take care of you!

Drapes a soft shawl around you that smells like detergent and fresh bread and snuggles you up. She carries you like a baby and it's the warmest, softest, safest experience you've ever had

Has the perfect nails for scritching and is giving you the royal treatment the whole way back to her cottage (she'd take you to see her brother, she tells you, but he's probably overworked as is)

Keeps accidentally flicking her hair into your face - there's so much of it, and as nice as it smells, the curls tickle you dreadfully

Doesn't like the idea of making you feel imprisoned inside, so she pulls out a basket and fills it with rags and old blankets and puts it on the porch for you to snooze in while she finds some food for you

Ends up pulling a bunch of produce from her garden and slicing it up into little pieces on a plate for you to pick and choose what you like. The whole time you eat she's petting you and listing off different names to see if there's any in particular you respond to

Has to run off after an hour because she was on her break, but she calls Pepi over to meet you before she goes to keep you company

Almost cries when she comes home to an empty basket

Lucio

Fully intended to keep walking past you. He wasn't even looking in your direction when you went sprinting off because he was too busy navigating a root and pebble filled path in heels

Mercedes and Melchior, however, noticed the tall grass rustling right away and came sprinting over to investigate. You were not prepared for how scary those teeth would look up close

The two of them can tell fairly quickly that you're not a normal small animal, and they're both so intrigued and excited that they start bouncing back and forth around you with whirlwind tails

Lucio, noticing the commotion, finally walks over to see what they found and notices you. Hey, you're kinda cute. He'll keep you.

Scoops you up without a second thought, tucks you into one arm, and keeps walking with the dogs trying to jump up and sniff at you on either side. It smells like dog and cologne and you are stressed

He does talk while he walks, but not to anybody specifically. He rambles from his ongoing train of thought to tuneless whistling to barking at the dogs to stop getting pawprints on his trousers

You'd hope for pets, but he's holding you in his human arm and the other spiky metal one with the sharp claws on the end don't look ideal for gentle comfort. Thankfully, he's pretty warm

He doesn't realize that you're injured until he gets to where he's staying and puts you down. As soon as he sees that you're limping, he's panicking and trying to figure out how to take care of it

Ties it up with a handkerchief and calls it a day. You'll be fine

Asks you if you can turn back at will when the spell wears off

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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sleeepywillow · 2 months

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I was gifted a small fanfic of my Call of Duty OC Virus from @hihhasotherfixations 🥹🧡 This was insane to be gifted as I never thought I would get to see Virus in writing! Please support them & have a read!

Stalking through the hallways, Ghost kept his night vision up, sticking to the walls as Snow Owl walked behind him.

Reaching a door, Ghost crouched down, pulling a spiderbot from one of his packs before placing it on the floor. Glancing down at the accompanying screen mounted on his wrist, he clicked a button to notify Virus it was active. A second later, he watched as the bot stood up on its legs, crawling under the crack of the door, his watch-screen displaying what the camera saw.

It seemed empty and Ghost briefly turned on heat vision, scanning for any bodies before deciding none are inside.

A second later, he got confirmation. “All clear, Ghost.”

Motioning Snow Owl with his head, the sergeant stepped up while Ghost grabbed the handle, throwing the door open a second later as Snow Owl rushed in, scanning the room.

“Clear.”

Hearing her quiet statement, Ghost followed inside, closing the door behind him as he then looked around.

The server room. Perfect.

Stepping up to one of the towers, he plugged Virus’ USB in, getting on the comms a moment later.

“Virus, it’s in.” He muttered.

“Already seeing it, Ghost. Thank you for the head’s up though.”

Huffing softly, Ghost just glanced out the window, trying to see if he could see Price’s signal.

Ghost and Snow Owl had been sent in first to covertly get Virus access to the facility, the rest waiting as overhead security until it was safe to move in as a full team.

After a moment, his night vision picked up on a figure in the distance, waving a signal.

They were moving in.

“Let’s move.” Ghost grunted to Snow Owl, pulling his rifle back up as he stepped over to the door. “Virus?”

“Working on it, Ghost.” Came her reply. The spider bot then crawled out of the room. “Hallway is still clear.”

That was all he wanted to hear, opening the door again, he stepped out, looking around.

“Captain, the cameras are disabled. You all are free to enter.”

“You got full control?” Came Hawkeye’s question, Virus confirming.

Sifting back through the corridors, Ghost had pocketed the spider bot while Snow Owl took the lead.

“Lights are out.” She reported quietly, seeing the courtyard enveloped in darkness where it had been lit up on their entry.

Ghost glanced over and nodded. “Well done Virus.” He hummed to himself before the two made their way to the staircase leading to the upper floor.

“We’re entering now.” Came Price’s voice and Ghost reached for his comms.

“We’re at the stairwell, heading up to the roof now.” To his right, Snow Owl pulled her rifle a little higher up her shoulder, clearly ready to get in position overhead the courtyard.

“Copy, report back when you’re there.”

“Yes, sir.” With that, Ghost dropped his hand back down to his weapon, taking point up the stairs.

For several minutes, there was no noise apart from their footsteps and the vague sounds of people outside in the courtyard.

Taking another step up the stairs, the lights suddenly flickered twice, briefly blinding Ghost thanks to his night vision before it went back out.

“What?” He heard Snow Owl quietly say from behind, going to reach for his comms before Hawkeye already came through.

“Virus, we got a moving camera here. Why is it not off?”

Turning to each other, Ghost and Snow Owl shared a glance.

“I’m losing my signal. I-I don’t know why. It’s not that their programs are fighting back. It’s just… glitching.”

“What do you mean ‘glitching’?” Price questioned right as Ghost and Snow Owl reached the top floor.

As they did, every light suddenly blinked on and the both of them grunted, flinching back as they scrambled to push their night vision up.

“Visual on the intruders!”

With barely a second, gunshots rang out and Ghost jumped back into the stairwell, Snow Owl right behind him.

“We have contact!” He yelled into the comms.

“Virus, everything switched back on, what’s going on?!”

“The USB coding failed!”

“Can you get control back?”

“I don’t think so! I’m trying but-“

The chatter in the comms fell away as Ghost opened fire on the enemy, the gunshots too loud to be able to keep following the conversation. Urging the sergeant to run down the stairs, he gunned down the last man before rushing down the stairs after her.

“The base is alerted, fall back to the wall outside! Ghost, what’s the status of you and Snow Owl?!” Price ordered.

“We’re coming back down to the base floor! No current threats!”

Rushing down, he immediately looked around for Snow Owl, seeing her come running out of the server room. In her hand, he saw a flash of Virus’ USB before she stowed it in a pouch.

“Let’s go!” He motioned for her and they quickly ran together, the team retreating for safety’s sake.

- - - -

Walking through the base, Ghost took a deep breath in, rubbing the back of his neck to loosen up.

After the botched mission, the retreat had gone only with minor hiccups, the enemy following them until they reached the tree line.

Yet for the past night and morning, he hadn’t seen Virus.

Her team had gone to speak with her, delivering the malfunctioning usb and discussing what happened. From what they relayed, Virus wasn’t any the wiser as to why it happened, vowing to figure it out.

But, in typical Virus fashion, that meant he hadn’t seen her. Not for training, not for food.

Holding his hands inside his hoodie pocket, he walked through the corridors, soon reaching her office.

Lifting a hand, he knocked on the door.

No answer came and after a moment, he just let himself in.

Inside, Virus was seated at her desk, her monitors set up around her with coding and design blueprints displayed on the screen. Hunched over the desk, she held a screwdriver in her hand, a usb disassembled entirely in front of her.

He could instantly tell she hadn’t left the room at all. There was a single plate to the side. Most likely the only thing she’d eaten in over a day. Several mugs of coffee and crumpled cans were littered all around and Ghost sighed quietly, glancing back at the woman before him.

Her hair was shoddily pulled back, the bun functioning purely to keep hair out of her face so she could work.

He knew exactly what was going on.

“Virus?” Ghost asked, walking in while closing the door behind him and the woman hummed, not even looking up.

Frowning a little beneath his balaclava, he stepped closer. “You working on some more malware?” He asked, a slight teasing tone in his voice, hoping to break the ice; but Virus didn’t respond exactly how he had wanted.

“If Hawkeye sent you, just tell her my answer hasn’t changed. I’m not moving until I fix this.”

His brows pulling together, Ghost walked to the mini fridge standing under a desk to his left. Opening it discreetly, he glanced inside, seeing the stash of energy drinks and iced coffee nearly depleted.

“Have you slept any?” The Lieutenant questioned and Virus huffed.

“If that’s all you want, please go. I need to fix this for the next mission. I’m taking care of myself, it’s fine-“

Walking over, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey.” He said, his voice a little softer. “Virus. Look at me.”

Frowning, she lifted her head, exhaustion visible in her face.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was.” Virus frowned, confused. “It was my tech that failed. I designed it. But it failed.”

“But it has succeeded so many times before.” He replied, holding her shoulder a little tighter.

Conflicted, Virus looks at him. “But this was supposed to be the best iteration yet. But it failed. It put you all in danger.”

Stepping back, Ghost pulled her chair back a little, swivelling her around to face him. Grabbing the screwdriver from her hand, he placed it to the side, holding eye contact. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Your tech worked in demo, otherwise you would have never sent it out with us on a mission, correct?”

Virus nodded meekly.

“You couldn’t have known it would do that. But everyone got out without injury.”

“But the mission-“

“Can be redone.” Ghost spoke, his voice kind. “In a different place or version maybe, but we have a good team. We are a good team. But missions fail sometimes. Tough luck but not the end of the world.”

“This time.” Virus mumbled, glancing at her desk, but Ghost placed two fingers on her cheek, turning her head back to himself.

“Virus, you’re too hard on yourself.”

Blinking a little in surprise, the woman looked up at him.

Seeing he got her attention, his eyes softened. “You’re clever. Really damn clever. Because of your tech, we’ve been able to disable and infiltrate so many bases and outposts without casualties or injuries.”

“But…”

“But what?” Ghost hummed. “So the usb failed this one time. The spider bots were a success, the watch-screens work flawlessly. The upgrades you made to the night vision got us out of there. And those are only the examples used on this particular mission.”

Swallowing softly, Virus glanced away - yet not at her tech for once.

Smiling gently under his mask, Ghost took a knee, looking up at her instead of towering over. “You are no use to us all if you work yourself to death.”

Huffing a bit in amusement, Virus looked at him. “I’ve been drinking this time at least.”

“Pure caffeine isn’t drinking.”

That caused her to crack a small smile and Ghost gently patted the side of her calf.

“I know how you get, but it really doesn’t warrant it. Never forget that you’re bloody clever.”

“So I was right. Hawkeye sent you here.”

Huffing, Ghost looked up at the black-haired woman. “Is it that hard to imagine I came here of my own free will?”

“With you? Who knows, especially given this.” Virus reached out and grabbed his balaclava, snapping the fabric against his neck, making Ghost snort.

“Use that smart brain and look into my eyes then.”

Smiling a little, Virus obeyed, looking into his eyes. Gentle yet determined, he looked back.

“I see makeup you forgot to wash off.”

Ghost playfully rolled his eyes. “Smartass.”

“Yes.” Virus smiled back and Ghost shook his head.

For a moment, it fell silent between the two, the tumult within Virus dying down and the worry within Ghost lessening.

“I… brought you something.” Ghost spoke after a minute.

“Oh?” Curious, Virus sat up a little in her chair and Ghost reached into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling something out.

Curious, Virus watched how he placed a plush dog on her hands.

Wrapping her hands around it, the woman gazed at it in surprise, feeling the soft material between her fingers as she lifted it to her face. “What’s this?” She asked softly, genuinely taken aback as her eyes then shifted to Ghost, seeing him looking off to the side - almost bashfully.

“You’re always going on and on about that robot dog of yours.” He shrugged, clearing his throat as he then motioned to the blueprint drawing hanging against the wall. “So… yeah.”

Slowly, Virus felt a genuine smile form on her face as she looked down at the plush, her face and eyes softening at the gift.

“So you got me a stuffed animal?”

“It was either this or K9. Didn’t want to offend you with that design though.”

“A K9?”

“No. K9. From doctor wh- Y’know what, never mind. This one is huggable. And washable if you spill coffee on it.”

At that, Virus laughed softly, holding the plushie a little closer.

“Thank you, Ghost. It means a lot.”

Hearing that, Ghost deflated a little in relief, looking at her again. “Good.” He hummed, his eyes flitting across her face for a moment. “Feeling a little better?” He then asked after a moment and Virus nodded.

“Yeah. Thank you.” She said gently. “Can’t promise I won’t keep working on this, but thank you.”

“Feel good enough to come join me for lunch for once?”

Smiling, she nodded. “Very well, just this once.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, Ghost got up, taking the plush dog from her hands to whack it against her face.

“Oi!” Virus chuckled, getting up as well before snatching it back. “Mine now. You gifted it, remember?”

“So I can’t touch it anymore?”

“No.” Virus grinned, napping the dog’s head against his forehead before softening, turning around. Stepping over to the dog blueprint, she placed the plush underneath it, tilting it until it was seated perfectly.

A reminder for what she was working towards.

Turning back to Ghost, she smiled. “Alright, let’s go.”

#call of duty #call of duty oc #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2

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trivialbob · 1 month

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Sheila and I brought our travel trailer to Illinois.

Bob! Are you two going to see the Bean? Willis Tower? Your college roommate? Or best of all, Navy Pier???

No, we are in Galena, not Chicago, near where Iowa, Wisconsin, and Illinois have a menage a trois.

Traffic in northwestern IL is substantially more calm than Chicagoland's cutthroat yet clogged artery driving. Like, we could drive the speed limit the entire way. There was one highway though were I got passed constantly. It was two lanes in each direction. What it lacked in shoulders and unbroken blacktop it made up with a smattering of white crosses and flowers.

I motored along at 55 MPH, which felt was safe with a trailer on that state highway. It turned out the speed limit was 65, making me the geezer. But tonight there aren't two new crosses with hardware store stick-on letters reading Bob and Sheila.

We're here three night yet we packed little clothing or food. The idea was to not spend much time getting ready. We are going to eat at restaurants, swim in the campground pool, and not bother with cooking and campfires. The price to stay three nights in the campground is a small fraction of what a B&B or hotel would have cost.

Galena's downtown is so cute you just want to hug and kiss it.

There are plenty of restaurants, bakeries and shops. We plan to visit all of them.

You can go to Gabby's:

Or you can choose Gobbie's. That's what we did. Gobbie's had beer, pizza and reasonably-priced cocktails, things two hungry and thirsty travelers need instead of "quirky finds."

We ordered pizza (pepperoni and green olives) and a reasonably priced cocktail each. The server was excellent. Sheila and I didn't realize the pizza came with salad and bread sticks with dipping sauce. I appreciated him explaining that once we had those things the tractor tire-sized pizza we thought we needed might be too much. We ordered a 12" instead and still had leftovers. I'm already looking forward to pizza for breakfast.

We stopped at a dispensary too. In Minnesota we can buy low potency THC gummies, but no other cannabis products yet. Here in Illinois the store had a large assortment of bud products.

A nice young man helped Sheila select some gummies good for relaxing. "You get a free joint with that purchase," he pleasantly added.

Neither of us smokes. But who am I to turn down FREE stuff. I'll probably play with that little test tube, filling it with match heads or gunpowder to blow it up. I'll give the joint to someone else.

#We did not bring any dogs this time #My BIL is putting up with their shenanigans this weekend

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sathyaonline5 · 4 months

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commander-krios · 7 months

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Everything

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: Rolan/Dammon Rating: Teen Summary: Rolan's had little time to himself since becoming the Master of Ramazith's Tower. Thankfully, he has friends willing to help him get a break. Words: 3924 Additional Tags: Gift Exchange, Tieflings, Romance, Love, Valentine's Day, Fluff, Post-Canon

Read on AO3

Elturel Tiefling Camp Discord Server Exchange treat for a few Dammon/Rolan lovers!

Rolan had begun taking his midafternoon meal breaks at the Elfsong Tavern, away from the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries. The first reason being it was quieter in the tavern during that time of the day, the majority of the inn’s guests sleeping off their nightly overindulgences while the rest made day trips into the city. The second reason was it made it more difficult for Cal to seek him out with questions about the mundane things, those things that could’ve waited the hour he took to eat and catch up on some reading. This was easier, simpler, and he could sit and ponder his own thoughts before trudging back to some disaster or another at the store.

When someone slipped into the unoccupied chair at his table, however, he was beginning to think that the Gods themselves were plotting against him.

“You look bored.”

Lakrissa watched him with a grin, pushing a glass of wine towards him. He eyed the drink suspiciously before glancing up at her, taking in the perfectly groomed ponytail that tumbled over her right shoulder, her chin propped in her hand, elbow on the table in an undisciplined manner.

“I didn’t order that.” Rolan said instead, ignoring her probing gaze to bury his nose in the book again. She didn’t take the hint, only nudged the glass closer to him. It was a bribe, he realized. For what, he had no idea. “What do you want, Lakrissa?”

She raised her eyebrows before a laugh escaped her lips. “Want? There’s nothing I want from you, mage-boy.”

“Then why-”

“Think of it as a thank you.” She reached into the little pouch on her side, pulling out a scroll, setting it on the table between them.

Rolan stared at it, immediately recognizing the fancy calligraphy and stamp on the document. Swallowing nervously, he lifted the glass and drank deeply, refusing to be baited into the conversation. She had no proof it was him. The silence between them was tense, but when he finally returned the half finished wine to the table, he cleared his throat, glancing away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re one of the only people who knew about the bard school. I figured it would be denied. Anti-tiefling sentiment is still high after all of this time, especially so soon after Elturel.” Lakrissa returned the scroll to her bag and replaced it with a hastily scribbled letter. Rolan knew Wyll Ravengard’s handwriting mainly from their recent correspondence. There was no mistaking it. “Wyll said you made a convincing argument about opening a school in a letter. His father approved it because of you.”

“I-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Rolan.” Lakrissa told him, securing the letter with the scroll once more. “You owed us nothing, but you helped anyway. So thank you.”

Rolan blushed, fingers trailing over the page of the tome in front of him. He liked Lakrissa, she was one of the only people who saw the reality of their situation from the start. Elturel, goblins, the shadow-cursed lands… and she continued on despite it all. Perhaps because of it all. Rolan had only made everyone’s lives more difficult with his ranting. But they’d still traveled with him and now he had the means to help everyone. He intended to use it.

But one thing he wasn’t expecting was sincere gratitude.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his claws got caught in the strands of the hair loosened from his bun. “Uh, don’t mention it. Please, don’t tell anyone.”

At the pleading in his voice, Lakrissa grinned like a cat who caught the canary. Uh oh. “Oh, I won’t tell anybody. For a price.”

A groan slipped out and he buried his face in his hands. “Hells, what is it now?”

Lakrissa laughed, pouring another glass of Arabellan Dry. Then he watched through his fingers as she stood, tucking the chair back beneath the table. She glanced down at him thoughtfully, as if trying to best articulate what she wished to say. Or maybe she was trying to torture him more, he wouldn’t put that past her.

After a moment more, she sighed, waving towards the exit in the direction of Sorcerous Sundries. “Lia and Cal are worried about you.”

That was unexpected.

“Whatever for?” His hands dropped to the table and he had to resist the urge to grab the wine glass as a barrier against the uncomfortable thoughts that spun at the back of his mind. Worried? About him? All he ever did was worry about them, and now, they had everything they could’ve dreamed for. What was there to worry about?

“When was the last time you went out?”

Scrunching his nose in confusion, Rolan waved to their surroundings sarcastically. “What do you call this?”

“Hiding.”

He scoffed in offense, but didn’t deny it. Because it was true in a way. He was hiding, mostly from Cal’s questions about the Sundries. “I was busy doing work before you so rudely interrupted me.”

“Oh, so rude of me to bring you wine.”

He rolled his eyes, noting her sarcasm but refusing to argue about something so stupid. She was being unusually nice today, but he figured she was as bored as he was, sitting here in the quiet tavern. If she wished to speak to him about something to alleviate that boredom, he’d gladly discuss wine, the latest novel, hells even the Gazette’s more recent gossip, but his personal life was not one of those things.

“How about this then?” She lifted the glass of wine and took a deep drink of it herself. Must’ve been a really slow day. “When was the last time you went out with Dammon?”

His blush deepened at the mention of the man who was… well, not quite his boyfriend, but something close enough. Digging his claws into the wood of the table, he caught the satisfied expression on Lakrissa’s face. She’d gotten under his skin and she knew it. “That’s none of your business.”

She let out a snort, refilling the wine one final time before setting it directly in front of him.

“Don’t you fret, mage-boy. Since you refuse to admit to doing something nice and taking the ‘thank you’ that comes with it, I’m going to find a way to thank you that you can’t refuse.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?”

“Think of it as a promise.” Ruffling his hair like he was one of the tiefling children, Lakrissa laughed when he reached up to knock her hands away in irritation. “And try to be less grumpy, Rolan. As much as it pains me to admit, you’re actually cute when you smile.”

Lakrissa waved before swiping the rest of the wine bottle from the table, leaving with his wild thoughts and burning cheeks. With one final look at the full wine glass beside his book, he pushed his chair back and made a quick exit, intending to put as much distance between him and the Elfsong as possible.

~~~~

“Alfira was here earlier.”

The next day immediately started off on the wrong foot. From the moment he’d woken up, a mischievous specter followed him, creating chaos everywhere he went. First, the lava elemental broke free of its compulsion, wandering outside and nearly setting a house on fire. Then, his projection started malfunctioning, and he had to stand at the desk for hours before Cal came down to relieve him. He’d also had to toss a few troublemaking kids out of the store for trying to steal one of Tolna’s books as a prank.

Gods, he still had a headache from the tongue lashing he’d gotten after.

And now he had to deal with this? It appeared Lakrissa wasn’t simply teasing him, after all.

Rolan glanced up from his accounting books, furrowing his brow at Cal’s words. There were very few reasons as to why the bard would show up at his store and he figured they all had to do with her girlfriend’s threat. “And? Did she say why she was here?”

“Yes.” Cal sauntered over to his desk before dropping a sealed envelope on top of his paperwork. “She left this.”

Rolan stared at the flowery pink paper envelope in concern. “And what is that?”

“Maybe you should open it and read it. It’s addressed to the ‘Master of the Tower’.” Cal sat beside the desk, putting his feet up on the edge. With a glare aimed in his brother’s direction, it only took a moment for Cal to get the hint and drop his feet back to the ground, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb. “I’m sure you already know what it says so please, enlighten me.”

Cal nodded, sitting up straighter and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. “They’re throwing a party. For the bard school’s opening. Alfira said it would be a huge favor to her if you came.”

Of course she did. It’d been weeks since he’d done much else besides sit at this desk and update the ledgers for the store: the vault inventory, the supply inventory, the accounting. Lorroakan hadn’t kept any sort of organization for the entirety of his time as Master of the Tower. Rolan didn’t even know if he turned a profit or steadily lost money.

“I have so much left to do-”

“Come on, Rolan. You helped them get the deed to the building. The least you can do is show up and celebrate with them.” Cal dropped his voice, his expression softening significantly. “You should go, have some fun.”

“Does everyone know about that?” Rolan sighed, feeling the fight leave him at Cal’s grin. He never did things for himself, but Cal and Lia… if it meant that much to them, he’d do it even if he hated every second. “Fine. But the moment somebody decides that I need to give a toast because I helped, I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. No one is willing to stroke your ego. It’s big enough as it is.”

Rolan coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to expose him. “I think you need to spend time with someone who isn’t Lia.”

“You’re just mad because she’s right.”

Ignoring the barb, Rolan realized he hadn’t seen his sister all week. She hadn’t lived in the Tower for a few months now. The Flaming Fist barracks were comfortable enough and Lia refused to spend every quiet moment with her brothers (or so she said), but she at least visited on occasion. Strange.

“Where is Lia, anyway?”

“Oh, uh…” Cal rubbed the back of his neck and averted his eyes to the floor, pretending to study the intricate tiles. Rolan didn’t need to spell detect thoughts to know that his brother was running through a hundred different excuses for their sister, before choosing what was most believable. Whatever was next out of his mouth was going to be a lie. “She’s… working?”

“Are you asking me or is that your answer?” Rolan tapped his feather pen against the envelope, tempted to open it to see the words for himself. “Because last I remember, Lia works the overnight shift.”

“She’s picked up some extra work.” Cal rushed to explain, standing as if that would stop the interrogation. “Alfira mentioned Dammon would be there. If that changes things.”

“Oh?” He tried not to sound interested, but gods dammit, it’d been too long since they’d seen each other. Maybe a public appearance among drunken bards wouldn’t be as awful as he thought. If he managed to avoid the singing. “I might be able to squeeze in a quick word with everyone.”

He almost missed the smile on Cal’s face as he slipped out of the door. “Whatever you say, Rolan.”

~~~~

The Elfsong Tavern was in chaos when he set foot inside. Drinks were poured freely, multiple bards were singing off key between hiccups, and others were guffawing and cheering along with the song. Or perhaps it was songs. None of the tunes were the same. Rolan spied Lakrissa near the bar, a glass of wine in each hand. She weaved through the crowd, a bright smile on her face as she watched the revelry. It was all a bit much for him, but he’d promised Lia that he’d make an effort to connect with the rest of the Elturel survivors.

He could do this.

“Rolan!”

He turned as Alfira appeared at his side, and without warning, she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly against her smaller form. Using her lute must’ve given her a set of strong biceps because for a brief moment, Rolan struggled for air.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”

She smelled suspiciously like a fruity wine and when she glanced up at him, Rolan immediately noticed her flushed cheeks. “Already drunk, hmm?”

Alfira giggled, nudging his arm as soon as she released her hold on him. “No, silly. I’m having fun. You do know what that is, correct?”

Lakrissa slid up next to them, holding out one of the glasses of wine towards him expectantly. When he only stared back, she raised an eyebrow before thrusting it into his hand. “Take it, dumbass.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“It’s your favorite.” Lakrissa said, handing the second glass to Alfira who took it happily. He slanted his eyes at her, immediately suspicious. “Drink up. Enjoy yourself. There are plenty of drinks to go around.”

He briefly considered asking her what her ploy was. She was definitely up to something, but decided an argument was a worse choice than simply drinking the wine. So, with a forced smile, he took a long sip, waiting for the inevitable hammer fall.

Rolan wanted to leave, these types of events always made him anxious about performing well enough to be considered ‘polite and stimulating company’, but this was their party and celebration. Even if he didn’t particularly enjoy being around all of these people, it wouldn’t be proper for him to rush off. The wine hit his tongue with its familiar woodsy flavor, the berry lingering as he swallowed it down. Lakrissa watched him intently, her mouth twitching into a smirk as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“If the crowd is a bit much, there are some fabulous views from the roof.”

“Why would I-”

Slipping her arm around Alfira’s waist, she turned back to the party, glancing over her shoulder at him with a conspiratorial look. “You can thank me later.”

Once Alfira and Lakrissa blended into the crowd, the sudden desire to flee tickled his mind. It would be so easy to disappear, to return to the Tower and forget this entire night happened. He figured no one would even notice, too drunk and invested in the party to realize that a guest was missing.

But he hadn’t seen Dammon yet.

And despite everything he’d thought earlier, he really did want to see him tonight.

The best course of action would be to go to the rooftop where it would luckily be quieter and wait until Dammon either appeared or he didn’t. Then, he could slink off into the night with no one the wiser.

~~~~

The roof of the Elfsong was much quieter, though the rumble of the party could be heard beneath his feet. With a quick sweep of his gaze, he noted the cushions set up beneath a pergola and a small table with chairs off to the side. The air smelled strongly of flowers: roses, lavender, and fuchsia, a tantalizing combination that helped to ease the anxiety in his chest.

He breathed deeply of the cool night air, not cold enough to need additional layers, but enough to make him shiver slightly as a breeze loosened his hair from his bun. With a disgruntled sound, he attempted to gather the hair in his hands but the wind made it impossible.

“Leave it. I like it down.”

His hands froze, the strands slipping from his fingers, and he turned, his darkvision making it easy to see what he’d missed during his first sweep of the area. A pair of piercing blue eyes ringed in gold, golden hair pulled into a bun over an undercut, and a set of familiar horns.

His breath caught at the sight. “Dammon.”

The tiefling blacksmith slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, smiling up at him. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, the things he wore in his day to day work. No, tonight he looked comfortable in a pair of dark slacks and a loose tunic, tucked into his waistband. Simple, but effective and Rolan couldn’t stop from staring.

“Fancy seeing you at one of these parties. I didn’t think you ever left that Tower anymore.”

Rolan flushed, grateful for the darkness and the wind blowing the hair in front of his face, if only to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, well, things have been busy. Swamped, really.”

Dammon’s gaze trailed over his robes, one of the dressier ones from Facemaker’s, bought at a price that he’d balked at before Lia forced him to hand the coin over. But with how the other tiefling’s eyes flitted across his chest at the gleaming gemstones and down the length of the sleeves at the elaborate embroidering, Rolan knew it was worth it. If only to be admired by him.

“Glad you could pull yourself away.”

There was no judgment, no anger or disappointment, just Dammon being… Dammon. Kind, understanding, accepting. He turned to walk to the edge of the balcony, his face hidden in the shadows.

Rolan followed without even realizing it. They stood, side by side, so close that Rolan could feel the warmth of his skin on his own. It wouldn’t take much to reach out, take his hand, perhaps press a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“Lia’s been helping out at the forge.” Dammon’s admission pulled him from his thoughts. The blacksmith glanced down at the street below, watching as the people milled about, laughing and drinking and singing. The party was in full swing, yet here they were standing above it all, watching the city shed inhibitions and find joy in the mundane. They were safe, they were happy, and they were free. “She’s been trying to lighten my load so we could… have this.”

“Some time to ourselves without the crushing weight of responsibility?”

Dammon chuckled, leaning an arm against the banister, eyes on a fixed point in the distance. For a man who worked with weapons most of the day, there was something so soft about him. It’d taken Rolan too long to figure out what it was. His eyes. When Dammon looked at a person, he saw many things but the first and foremost was that he saw their soul. Not the facade they put up, but who they were beneath. At one time, it scared Rolan to be seen so deeply but now… now he craved the horrifying ordeal of being known by another person.

Of being known by this man in particular.

Rolan sighed as Cal’s sudden onslaught of questions, all in regards to the running of Sorcerous Sundries, began to make more sense. “It seems Cal was trying to do the same.”

The sounds of a lute and a lyre floated out of the windows of the Elfsong and people on the streets began to spin in a dance of wild limbs and stumbling feet, too drunk to do much else besides rocking back and forth or falling. The rest of the city stretched out ahead, lights flickering against a velvety black backdrop, the stars above burning as brightly as the streetlamps.

He didn’t know what possessed him. Maybe it was the Arabellan Dry still tingling on his tongue. Perhaps it was the beautiful sounds of Alfira’s lute from below. Or it could’ve very well been the fact that his family, his friends, the people who cared about him, had done so much to give him this peace.

Rolan’s hand slipped into Dammon’s, noting how easily their fingers slotted together.

He’d always wanted somewhere to call home. For years, it had been Cal and Lia and the little family they’d built out of the ashes of their lives. But the upheaval by the descent into Avernus, the difficult road traveled to Baldur’s Gate, Lorroakan and everything with the Netherbrain… he didn’t think he’d find happiness again, only pain.

He was grateful to be completely wrong.

“What are you-”

“Shh.” Rolan tilted his head to the side, nodding to the dancers below, a smile curling his lips. “Do you hear that?”

Dammon raised his eyebrows, amusement flitting across his features. “The music? It’s kind of difficult not to.”

“And what do people do when they hear music, Dammon?”

The blacksmith rolled his eyes, but his face softened more than Rolan thought was possible. He straightened, turning towards Rolan with expectation. “Why don’t you tell me? So I don’t get it wrong?”

Butterflies went to war in his stomach, but the challenge in Dammon’s eyes was intoxicating. He was going to make him say the words. Despite his intelligence, his knack for learning and doing things his own way, Rolan struggled with the right words. But action, that was easier.

His free hand slid along Dammon’s waist, their entwined hands turned into proper position. When Dammon met his gaze again, his eyes burned like blue fire ringed in gold. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his heart pounded out like a war drum in his chest, but he managed to force a single question out before he lost his nerve.

“Dance with me?”

Dammon’s eyes widened slightly before a grin spread across his face. His hand tangled in Rolan’s loose hair, strands sliding his fingers. Then he leaned in, lips brushing softly against Rolan’s, the contact a shock but a welcome one. His mouth was warm in the cool night, and he drank him in like a man who hadn’t touched a drop of water in days. His skin burned, his heart threatened to dance right out of his damned chest, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Rolan shifted closer, wrapping both arms around Dammon’s waist, deepening the kiss with a swipe of tongues and teeth. Everywhere their bodies touched, Rolan felt like he was on fire, flames beneath his skin threatening to burn him to ash. And it would be a good way to go, he thought, as the kiss finally broke.

Because with the way Dammon was staring up at him, smiling like he was nothing more than a drunken fool, Rolan understood. What they had was important, as important as anything else in his life. And he was going to fight like hell for more nights like this.

“I thought we were supposed to be dancing.” Dammon whispered, breath ghosting against Rolan’s cheek as a laugh left his mouth.

“Do you want to?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt. “Dance, I mean.”

Dammon ran his hand through his hair again, but his gaze never slanted away. Chills ran down Rolan’s spine at the intensity of his eyes that he almost didn’t hear the words. “It was your idea, but I like this too.” His lips brushed against Rolan’s briefly before he pulled back, nothing but tenderness on his face.

And Rolan couldn’t help but agree.

This was nice.

It was everything.

#my writing #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 lakrissa #bg3 alfira #rolan x dammon #dammon x rolan #gift exchange

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fii-b · 11 months

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The Firekeeper in ds3 is Gwyndolin from ds1

I know it sounds crazy but everyone's entitled to at least one insane fan theory and this is mine. The Firekeeper in Darksouls 3 does not play by the same rules as firekeepers before her. She cannot die permanently, she does not leave behind a firekeeper's soul if killed, and she is able to exist even when the bonfire she keeps is unlit (even prompting you to light her bonfire when you first meet her). It is also strange that we find a stray firekeeper's soul in the tower behind firelink shrine, one which takes a key sold at a high price by the shrine handmaiden. This tower also seems to hold the corpse of at least one other firekeeper.

When it comes to gwyndolin, it doesn’t make sense that she’d just fall ill out of nowhere. Even if she did, she is the god and leader of the darkmoon’s blades who server her every whim. Where she to fall ill, it does not make sense for them to abandon her in Anor Londo to get eaten by Aldritch, a known threat. Furthermore, it doesn’t really make sense that Gwyndolin would want to take over Anor Londo after she has confirmed Gwyn to be dead and the first flame to be linked. Gwyn treated her like shit her whole life and in Darksouls 1 it is no surprise that Gwyndolin would set up an elaborate smoke and mirror’s gambit to get her father killed and the age of gods extended.

That said, Gwyndolin does not draw her power from the sun like her father and sister do. Despite being called “Dark Sun” Gwyndolin, she draws her power from the moon and from darkness. We know that Gwyn is afraid of the power of the dark and very much wants to keep those who can harness it subservient or powerless. This is likely why Gwyndolin was given a moniker denoting her as part of the sun and why she was relegated to duties which kept her away from the public eye.

So, with all the background info out of the way, my basic headcannon goes like this:

After the events of Darksouls 1, Gwyndolin continues to run Anor Londo from the shadows for a time. When it comes time for a new undead to kindle the flame and no-one does so, Gwyndolin (knowing the emergency failsafe system will release Aldritch who she very much believes will be coming for her) creates a version of herself for Aldritch to eat and spreads the story that she has fallen ill as bait. (We know this to be within her power as she is both able to spread the chosen undead myth in DS1 and she is able to create a version of herself for us to fight, complete with a soul, without risking the illusions surrounding Anor Londo to all crumble at once upon her puppets defeat). Using this opportunity, she flees Anor Londo and replaces the firekeeper in Firelink Shrine. This lets her continue leading nameless undead into linking the flame and, because she is taking over the roll of firekeeper, it allows her to exist as a woman unquestionably (every firekeeper to date has been a woman). Like with linking the fire in ds1, this is a long-term goal and a personal goal of hers fulfilled at the same time.

So ye~

#dark souls #dark sousl 3 #dark souls 3 #dark sun gwyndolin #fire keeper #fan theory #speculation #headcanon #character analysis

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infinian · 10 months

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#dell poweredge t440 server price #dell t440 server price in india #dell poweredge t440 server cost #dell t440 server cost in india #dell poweredge t440 server dealers #dell t440 server dealers #dell poweredge t440 server distributors #dell t440 server distributors #dell tower server price #dell tower server price in india #dell tower server price in bangalore #dell tower server price in chennai

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cgogs · 9 months

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can you tell us about briar and silas now

okay, so. this outline applies to the original ending of awesamdad, where Briar runs away for good when he learns Dream is having another baby and never comes back, and becomes a mercenary/bounty hunter/___ for hire. Scream Eureka is an alternate ending of THAT bad end. Okay? Okay.

20 years ago, Dream dropped off the face of the earth when Briar was given to him by DreamXD, Punz was naturally absolutely dumbfounded to being ghosted in the middle of all their business. Instead of throwing in the towel, he left the server to keep studying the research they started. Necromancy, blood magic, all kinds of things. Picture a wizard in a tall tower. Kind of like that. Studying old magic nearly entirely from scratch.

He makes a name for himself working miracles and curing the sick, and lands himself as something of a baron. He has a son, a bastard really, and Silas's mother wasn't very interested at all in being a mother, so she leaves him with Punz and splits when Silas is about... mmh, maybe 5? Between 3-5. Punz is like. Alright. Guess I'm taking care of this.

He raises Silas to the best of his ability, keeping in mind that he isn't interested in parenthood at all. Silas lives a very comfortable life with maids and money. He has a staff of tutors and people to train with.

Punz is raising him to be his little lab partner. From the time Silas can handle it, he's in the autopsy room watching his father carve runes on the backs of rib bones to make them weld back together. When he's old enough to stomach it, he's being taught how to harvest organs, how to turn them into ingredients that can be put into potions, etc.

Silas. Hates this. He has very little interest in carrying on his father's life's work. He sneaks out often, is a bit of a flirt, and is regarded by staff as a disappointment. He's incredibly smart, don't get me wrong, but he's not the type of teenager to do well inside stone walls. In his eyes, Punz cares more about that damn book than he does about his own son. (This isn't true. Punz is just. Well.)

When Silas is maybe 17/18, he and Punz have a huge fight that starts with Punz trying to get him to show some incentive in his studies and winds up with Silas running away for good. (Who gives a fuck about any of this when you have everything anyway? What else could you possibly want? Who gives a fuck about the revive book, what about what I want?)

Silas becomes a pretty successful mercenary and proud vagrant, never staying in the same place for long. A bird free from his cage! He drinks as much as he wants, goes wherever he wants, and never has to recite 7 different dialects of a runic alphabet ever again.

Briar runs away from home when he is about 17. Silas is a few years younger than Briar, and runs away when he's 17/18, which would make Briar about 22.

Briar has gained notoriety in several counties. There's quite a price on his head. A famous thief with infamous aim. Silas aims to take this price for himself, and takes the bounty offer on Briar's head.

Briar outruns him for a long time, but Silas is patient. Silas tires him out until he makes a mistake, and not even perfect aim can save him when he's cornered in a cave. Briar is clever, though, and in an attempt to save his own life he tells Silas that he can pay back twice the amount the bounty office has offered him if Silas will just let him live. He'll give 70% of his own revenue to Silas until he can work off his own worth.

Silas is amused. More than amused, he's admiring his opponent! Briar's been more of an equal match. For what Silas lacks in his combat skills, Briar makes up for, and vice versa. He's smart, he's put up a good fight, he seems like an alright guy. So, Silas accepts his offer.

Briar and Silas are now a duo. Part of the deal is that Silas has to be in close proximity 24/7 (he even has Briar sign a contract! Honor bound! o7) and Silas is quickly enamored with him.

He likes Briar's mystery. He likes how fiery he is and how he complains about everything, and how he can shoot a bolt through someone's iris (bullseye!) a mile away. He's intrigued with how little he knows about him.

Briar fuckin' hates this guy. He's loud and stupid and drunk and has clipped his wings. Briar hasn't been around people in years. He hasn't entertained a real conversation since he told his mother goodbye. He doesn't remember how to do it... the whole friendship thing.

As time passes, they grow closer. Genuinely closer. Briar opens up little by little and his cold heart thaws against his will. Silas has a joke running about interest rates, adding on fees with every small slight. (You ate the last slice of bread. That's 50 more gold coins!) He doesn't want Briar to pay off his debt and split immediately. He likes him too much. And he thinks Briar needs someone to be around. He's not exactly... stable.

Briar doesn't want to lose him either. But he's absolutely scared to death of that. He knows what loss feels like. What is feels like to watch someone's back as they leave. (Silas has never known what it felt like to love in the first place.) Briar is torn between sinking his claws in or running away. He doesn't want to be vulnerable for someone again, but he doesn't know what he'd do if he lost this.

This isn't helped by Silas being obviously, stupidly, horribly in love with him. Briar might even love him back. But he knows what love does to people. He saw it kill his mother slowly. He's scared to death of it happening to him. He lashes out when he feels that warm bloom in his chest, but Silas never leaves. Briar doesn't want him to leave- god, god, please don't leave. Briar kind of wants to kill him sometimes just to make it all stop. He knows, whatever happens, that he will never marry.

Silas doesn't think there's a single thing Briar could do that would make him leave. They're in it together for the long haul, okay? Honor bound!

They don't really know what they are. Sometimes, Briar allows Silas to kiss him just to pretend he can love someone without it destroying him. He'll be mean, horribly mean, prickly, awful to him the next day. Go away, get away, get away. But Silas doesn't seem to mind.

Silas just genuinely loves him. Briar is so scared of becoming his mother that he tends to emulate his father instead. He's so angry, so hateful, and it's just because he's scared. Silas is covered in (metaphorical) scratch marks but still insists on holding his feral little fox. Like it can be domesticated.

(Foxes mate for life. Did you know that?)

Somehow in the chaos they meet a balance. They work together, sleep in the same bed, share nearly every waking moment together. They're not a couple in name, but Briar would sooner rip out his own eyes than see Silas stand near anyone else.

There's an unspoken plea. Please don't leave me. I know I'm cruel and angry and mean and more like a frightened animal than a real person but I need you to be with me. Even if I bite.

And Silas doesn't know how this is supposed to go, and he doesn't care. He has his person. He's going to stay with his little fox.

Briar lets himself stay in debt, but has the money to pay it all in his enderchest. More than enough to pay it, actually. In case he ever needs a quick out. He likes having contingency plans like that.

The original awesamdad has an end, one where Dream falls horribly ill, on deaths door, and Nettle (14) goes on a quest to find the brother she never knew so that mom can see him one more time. Briar comes home (Silas in toe. Obviously.) and Dream makes a recovery.

Some top tier bullshit happens afterward but this is already So long and also supposed to be about Silas. So I'm fuckin' cutting it here I have a fic I'm supposed to be writing!!

#silas #briar

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sadinasaphrite · 11 months

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Friday Nights Ch 1

Oh no, I accidentally started a modern fantasy AU Professor Gale BloodWeave fic. Full blame goes to @tearsontherocks for instigating this in the first place, along with the BloodWeave Tower Discord server for encouragement.

Read on AO3!

* * * * *

No one ever talks about how much of a wizard’s time is taken up by teaching. When a child says they want to be an astronaut, some spoilsport will be quick to warn them astronauts need to be good at math and astrophysics or some such. Too many adults are quick to temper the dreams of children with an uncalled for dose of reality.

Ordinarily, Gale would frown upon such behavior, preferring to encourage the imagination of the up and coming younger generation. Today, however, Gale wished someone had warned him away from his career path in the magical arts. If someone had told him the price of manipulating the power of the cosmos was lecturing two hundred bored students about ethical transmutation, then maybe he’d have become something else. A cook, perhaps. Or a librarian. Something more mundane. Something safer.

If he’d never become a wizard, maybe last night would never have happened.

Gale let out a long breath. No time to think about that now. Students were filing into the lecture hall, and he owed them a good lecture, no matter how disinterested they looked. He checked the time, gave the stragglers a few moments to find their seats, then plastered on a fake smile and started his lecture.

He didn’t mind teaching, truly. Given the right circumstances, he loved to teach. Unfortunately, what the right circumstances entailed were willing, attentive, engaged students, something in short supply these days, and certainly nowhere to be found in these oversized classes. If only he could have a higher level, more specialized class to teach. Perhaps a handful of grad students, all eager to share and collaborate in the pursuit of knowledge. They didn’t even have to meet in a classroom. They’d take over one of the nice study rooms in the library, with cushioned chairs and couches. Gale could see it now, a group of bright-eyed young mages, ready to learn from his wisdom and experience to… to…

Mystra slipped in through the door at the back of the lecture hall and leaned against the wall, arms folded over her chest. A manicured nail tapped against her arm. Gale’s heart dropped.

She knew.

Shit.

To his credit, Gale didn’t miss a beat. He continued his lecture as if the woman with the power to ruin his career, his reputation, his very life wasn’t watching him like she’d just discovered a particularly vile cockroach in need of squashing. He’d never seen that look on her face before. It didn’t suit her. He much preferred her smile, her laugh, or the gleam in her eyes when she made a break in her research. Just last week, he’d taken her out to a lovely dinner before she invited him back to her place and they…

Well. Now was definitely not the time to dwell on those thoughts.

“For next week’s class, read pages 235 through 261, and complete the Chapter Six Questionnaire. If there are any questions, please reach out to me through email, or drop by during my office hours.”

The students filed out of the room and Gale busied himself with putting away his lecture notes and laptop. The sharp click of heels approached his desk with the same solemnity as a death knell.

“Gale.”

Oh, he did not like how his name sounded in that icy tone.

“Mystra,” Gale gave her a smile and prayed it looked natural. “How can I help?”

Mystra’s dark eyes were cold and her jaw tightened.

“I’d like to talk about last night.”

“Last night?” Shit. Gale looked away to slide his notes into his laptop case. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Don’t be stupid, Gale. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I should certainly hope not!” He flashed her what he hoped was a charming grin.

Mystra’s scowl deepened. “I know you went to the lab last night.”

“I go to the lab most nights,” Gale said. He’d put everything away and was running out of ways to occupy his hands and avoid her gaze. “Surely you—”

“Gale!”

She slammed her hand on the desk and Gale jumped, the laptop case slipping through his fingers to clatter on the desk. Mystra’s eyes flared with absolute fury and Gale thought for one wild moment that she was about to strike him. He stumbled back and fell into his chair, feeling even smaller as she loomed over him.

“Do you think I am an idiot?”

“No, of course not,” Gale babbled. “In fact, I would say you’re—”

She cut him off with a snap of her fingers. “Then do not treat me as such. Stop pretending you don’t know why I’m here. You were in the lab last night. Alone. You deliberately violated safety protocols. You interacted directly with the artifact, something I expressly forbade you from doing. What I don’t know is why.”

Gale remained silent for a moment, doing his best not to shrink back in his chair.

“…We were getting nowhere,” he said, sounding as small as he felt. “Month after month of dead ends. And with the grant money running out, we were under a time crunch.”

A time crunch you mentioned at every meeting, Gale thought, but did not voice.

“It would have meant a massive success for the university. For you. I thought… I was sure I could handle it. If I could just connect with the artifact directly, not through the layers of shields and protections, then I’d be able to see how to unlock it. How to understand it.”

“And did you?” Mystra asked.

“…no.”

“As I thought. Show me,” she ordered.

Gale’s heart jumped into his throat and his gut twisted.

“Show you what?”

“What it did to you.”

Gale checked the lecture hall was indeed empty apart from the two of them and rose to his feet. With slow, hesitant fingers, he unbuttoned his sweater vest and undershirt to expose his chest. He didn’t need to look at it to know what Mystra would see. He’d stared at it all last night and into this morning. A purple discoloration sat in the center of his chest, like a deep bruise in a perfect circle. Dark lines circled the bruise and branched outward over his heart, then crawled upward toward his neck, following his carotid artery.

Mystra ran a hand over his chest, not the caress of a lover, but the clinical examination of a scientist to a specimen.

“The discoloration appeared with the initial event,” Gale explained. He hoped Mystra didn’t hear the tremor in his voice. “The…veins branching off of it started two hours later and have been growing at a rate of approximately six millimeters per hour.”

“And the noted effects?”

“…Unknown.”

She raised a thin eyebrow. “You haven’t tried spellcasting since?”

“I…” Gale swallowed thickly. “Frankly, I’ve been too afraid of any unknown consequences to try.”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you violated the security of this university.”

“Mystra…”

“Quiet,” she planted her hand firmly over the discoloration. “Let me in.”

Gale let out a slow breath, then closed his eyes and dropped the passive shields around himself, exposing the core of his very being, the source of his magic within himself. The cold tendrils of Mystra’s own magic prodded at his core and around the strange intrusion into his magic. They’d shared energy in a similar way a dozen times over, intimately locked soul to soul, but this was different. Instead of sharing and intertwining their magic as equals, Mystra remained shielded from him, examining his most intimate self as Gale stood helpless and exposed before her.

He hated it.

“Whatever happened between you and the artifact, it left a piece of itself within you,” Mystra said, withdrawing from him.

Gale gratefully pulled his shields back up, buttoning his shirt as he did so. “And? What did it do?”

“It’s draining you,” she said. “Draining your magic, specifically. Whatever great pool of magic reserves you had before, it has been reduced to a puddle, with the excess siphoned off to feed the shard within you.”

Gale’s blood ran cold. “And… when it runs out of magic to feed on?”

“Right now it looks like your reserves are replenishing fast enough to keep it fed,” Mystra replied. “That being said, I don’t think it’s wise for you to cast more than a cantrip or risk draining yourself.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know, Gale,” she snapped, “You have a shard, an…orb of ancient magic within you that no one on the planet understands. I don’t know what this will do to you. No one does. All I can tell you is to keep monitoring it and let me know of any changes.”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“And on that note… Professor Gale Dekarios, you have violated university safety procedures and disregarded my express instructions, putting yourself, others, and the university at risk. I have no choice but to take you off the project.”

“What?!” Gale’s jaw dropped. “Mystra, no! This is my project! I’ve been the lead on every aspect of this! You can’t!”

“As Dean of this university, I can and will!” Mystra rounded on him, raising her voice. Her fists shook at her sides and Gale took a step back. “You could have died, Gale! You could still die! You could have blown up the whole building, the whole campus for all we know. All because you thought you knew better than myself and your whole team, some of the best mages in the world. Your sheer arrogance put lives at risk, put the project at risk, and you dare stand before me and think only of yourself!”

“I…”

“No, stop. You are going to listen. The only reason I haven’t reported this to the authorities is because I don’t want to tarnish the university’s reputation. The only reason you still have a job is because I don’t want to go through the trouble of hiring a new teacher halfway through the semester. Also, you have tenure, and I don’t want to deal with that headache.”

She jabbed him in the chest, right over the orb.

“You are never going to walk into a lab again. You are forbidden from university research or experiments involving any and all active magic. Any projects you pursue are academic only, and you are banned from touching anything more dangerous than a book. You will be taking on another nine credit hours of teaching next semester. You are no longer a career academic, you are primarily a teaching professor. If you don’t like it, you can try your luck finding a job as the wizard who screwed up at the most prestigious university in the country,” she gave a bitter laugh. “Considering your condition, you might not ever cast a proper spell again. Congratulations, Gale. You’ve destroyed yourself.”

Gale’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.

Mystra held out a hand, palm up.

“And I’ll be taking back the key to my place, while we’re at it.”

Gale’s heart shattered upon that final blow.

“Mystra…” his voice cracked on the word. “Please, love—”

“You do not get to call me that anymore. My key, please.”

Gale could only stare dumbfounded at her for a long moment. She waited, hand held out expectantly. Slowly, he retrieved his keys. His hands shook as he fumbled with the key ring, removing the silver key to Mystra’s home. With a horrible sense of finality, he placed the key in the hand that only a few nights ago had been wrapped around him in a loving embrace.

“Thank you,” she said, voice curt, and turned away.

No! No, he couldn’t lose her! Not like this!

“Mystra, please…” He reached for her hand and she snatched it away.

“You are the worst mistake I’ve ever made, Gale. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Gale froze and watched the woman he loved walk out of his life. The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty lecture hall. Only then did the gravity of his situation hit him.

Oh gods. What had he done?

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#Baldur's Gate 3 #Astarion #Gale of Waterdeep #BloodWeave #BG3 #Bg3 fic #My drabbles

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