#gale can surprise you with breakfast in bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inglorionamy-ammy · 2 months

Text

Of Home and Haven (Ch4/6)

Chapter snippet:

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families. A wedding, a departure, and some revelation.

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale Mature

Word count: 3.5k

@senualothbrok: As always, my wonderful beta.

AO3 link: Here

Chapter Three: Here

[This chapter's illustration hides at the end ;)]

You have a dream; no, you never recall those fleeting fabrications of the mind. This is a memory.

You remember standing at the edge of the misty forest. As the first ray of sunshine lit up the vast plains before you, you took your first step.

You felt Da’s gaze, steady and proud. You heard Ma’s voice.

“Go, my love, my savage daughter,” she whispered, so as not to break the tranquility of the moment. “Weave your tale with your steps, one at a time. Perhaps one day, you’ll find your path back here again. But if not, then you’ll go far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

So, you march, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

You feel Gale stir, finally. You woke up three hours ago, and have already packed your luggage and eaten your breakfast. Now you are back in bed to cradle him.

He moans hoarsely. You can almost hear his wince. Smiling with closed eyes, you reach forward and press slow circles between his shoulder blades with your thumb, eliciting a sigh of relief.

“Morning, my love,” he yawns, “I appreciate the effort, but for it to be truly effective, you may have to massage a much wider area, namely, my whole body.” He barks a surprised laugh when you reach straight to his morning erection.

Instead of using the teleportation scroll that Gale painstakingly prepared for all the guests, your parents have opted to travel on foot to Waterdeep. Ma explains apologetically that they would love to be on the road again, for nostalgic reasons. Gale beams with adoration, and almost successfully hides his slight disappointment. Only you see through how much he longs to immediately return to his tower for your shared four-poster bed.

Still, ever the gentleman, he refuses Ma’s suggestion for you two to go ahead without them. You gratefully give his lower back a comforting little rub as a promise of later massages, cheering his spirit up a bit.

“An escort mission it is, then!” Ma’s eyes twinkle with excitement.

Da grunts his agreement, swiftly throwing her luggage on his back, together with his full-battle equipment and traveling pack. Being on the road again clearly delights him. Following suit, you also lift Gale’s luggage off the ground, and when he protests, you lift him up as well. Ma’s ringing chortle echoes in the forest.

Da takes a final long look at the hut and everything else they have built over the past three decades, flooded in warm sunlight. One piece at a time, your parents had turned the desolate land into somewhere you could be birthed safely and called home. Ma quietly leans against his arm, listening to the sound of the waterwheel, lost in thoughts. You hold Gale’s hand a bit tighter than necessary. He frowns, puzzled, but he won’t be for long. You know his brilliant mind will soon connect the dots, just as you had silently found out the truth five days ago, when your Da dueled you under the moonlight.

“IT’S TIME,” Da decides.

With that, you turn and leave.

Your father has always been a silent man. He never really sits down and tells tales like Ma does, including his own. But he doesn’t need to. You can observe.

You saw how among all enemies he destroyed orcs with the most intense hatred. Every time, he would mark their bodies at the back of their neck, the same place where he has a scar.

You saw how hard he trained you to be self-reliant and dominant, so that you would never fall prey to any malicious intent, no matter who you might encounter. Never subservient, never a slave.

You saw how he hoarded gold and jewelries in the secret basement under the hut, things that were worth nothing in this forest but were worth a fortune in any nearby settlements, and pressed the keys into Ma’s hand, preparing for the inevitable.

You saw his eyes soften with affection, when you and Ma had laughed over some witty jokes Gale made, and he thought no one else was watching him. You saw his silver dreadlocks, once dark but now fully grayed, glowing under the moonlight. You saw him training, harder than ever, ready for the road again. You know he has made his choice.

One evening, you and Gale are sitting next to the campfire, alone at last. Earlier, your parents had retired for the night, saying that they would like to stargaze together at a nearby ruin.

At first, you had wanted to bear the secret alone for a little longer, to not overshadow his joy for the approaching wedding. Yet, you can recognize the look of hesitation and the urge to know on his face, so you prepare for his enquiry.

“There’s more to this trip, isn’t there,” he starts, carefully choosing his words. “There’s something…solemn, about it,” a nervous chuckle, “I certainly hope that it wasn’t inspired by our union.”

You immediately shake your head. Nothing is further from the truth. In fact, Da would not make this decision if he had found Gale unworthy.

“No,” you pause, “Just that Da is about to leave.”

“Leave?” He raises an eyebrow, “What, you mean, alone? And at this age—”

He halts, realization hitting him. He has read every scattered piece of research he could find on half-orcs. Not much was written on culture, since many assumed your kind don’t have that. But a great deal on your physicality was available. He knows that half-orcs mature faster than humans, that at sixteen they are considered an adult, at fifty an elder, and most don’t live much longer than sixty. For a robust warrior like your Da, extra physical prowess came with the cost of quickened deterioration. In a few years’ time his health will sharply decline, and he will no longer be able to support his heavy, muscular physique, let alone wield it in a meaningful way. A weapon will turn into a burden.

You nod. With a pat you invite him to sit on your lap, a futile gesture of comfort. Still, you reach out to slowly apply soothing pressure to the muscle at the back of his neck, as you explain Da’s teachings.

“A half-orc does not die in bed with sickness and old age, immobile, mourned and pitied. They die in the battlefield, breathe their last breath as a warrior and are celebrated as one. It is in this way that those who cherish them will always remember them by their potency and glory, not by fragility and death.” His fights replay in your mind, always proud, always ready. “After the wedding, Ma and I will see him off.”

For a while Gale is quiet, and so is the world. The only sound you can hear is the fire crackling. You continue to knead into him, untangling the knots in his body. A moment later, he lets out a deep breath.

“Every time I think I have deciphered the truth of your heritage, I am always humbled by the limits of my understanding.”

He chuckles in resignation, then turns to you, his voice soft but burning with urgency.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way…but I might never be able to see the appeal in that. Back when I was afflicted, a lonely, brutal death had seemed to be my fate. I used to think I could embrace it, like some sort of martyr, and it was you, my love, who showed me otherwise.”

His palm moves to your hand on his shoulder and holds it, fingers intertwined.

“Now, without it, I’ve always hoped that my last moments would be spent in the arms of my beloved, surrounded by friends instead of foes.”

You think about that.

“That’s beautiful too,” you decide.

Five days before your wedding, Gale’s tower has turned into some kind of tavern. You watch him, in awe, as he uses scrolls combined with his own magic to remold the interior, stretching corridors, opening new rooms, and decorating them with a snap of his fingers. Ma claps with wonder, clearly enjoying the performance. Even Da nods his approval. Gale makes an exaggerated bow in gentlemanly fashion, barely hiding a smirk.

Halsin, the massive former archdruid, is the first to arrive. After a brief handshake, a big hug follows, and between the two of you Gale is thoroughly squeezed. Shadowheart arrives an hour later, silvery hair matched by a slivery gown. You only get to greet each other briefly before she is whisked away. Her elegant presence has attracted both the attention of Morena and your Ma, and as they chat away you sense Gale’s slight unease. Hidden childhood embarrassments are sure to be spilled. You politely fight the urge to listen in.

A day later, a sudden rush of sulphur fills the front yard, follows by a snap of the air. You and Da immediately spring into a battle stance, only to relax as Karlach and Wyll step out from the Hell’s portal, hand in hand. A warmth fills your heart.

“Wyll, my friend!” Gale shouts in excitement, pulling the man into a tight embrace.

With her lover occupied, Karlach looks around and spots your Da. The pair’s gazes lock, and wild grins are shared. After that, there isn’t a day that the tower is free of the sound of sparring. You sometimes join in as an effective way to flirt with Gale.

In the evening before the union, Astarion knocks on the door, face hidden under a cloak. The rogue rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance when Gale jokes how surprised he is that the man is in fact capable of knocking. Astarion however immediately gets his comeback when he silences you all with a removal of his cloak, revealing a red and black doublet with the most intricately golden embroidery you have ever seen, his own proud work. The vampire spawn is gorgeous.

“Well, my dear wizard, I could still offer some fashion advice for the most special day in your life, if you ask very nicely,” he purrs, dragging out every syllable.

It is late, but none of you are preparing to sleep. The ceremony starts tomorrow night so you suppose you can steal a rest the coming morning. Except for Lae’zel, Jaheira, and Minsc and Boo, who will be attending the ceremony directly, the whole party has once again gathered. There are too many drinks to down, songs to sing, and gossips to share. Shadowheart and Astarion have retreated to a corner, making sarcastic remarks with wine twirling in their hands. Halsin and Da somehow find themselves in an arm-wrestling contest with Ma as the judge, and you are amused to find Morena right next to her watching with bated breath, the two mothers nearly inseparable for the past few days. At the corner of your eye, Wyll is reporting to Tara on the arrangements for tomorrow, the Blade of Avernus heeding command from the mighty Tressym. You feel at home, at ease, with your favorite wizard reclining in your embrace.

Karlach walks over, slightly drunk.

“Soldier!” She salutes.

You hum, smiling, signaling her to sit beside you. Over the past days you have learnt that her war in the Hells is almost over, and she has gained more allies than any of you would have expected. The House of Hope is now a rebellion camp. You are so proud of her.

“Awww, you two are so sweet!”

She throws an arm around you and leans on your shoulder, her mechanical heartbeat loud and hot. You tilt your head slightly to give her space without bumping into her horns.

“I could say the same about you and Wyll!” Gale replies with a chuckle. “I have always suspected a spark. All it takes is some hells fire to ignite it.” His eyes are dreamy as he asks, “when will we be attending your wedding?”

“Oi, you!” Karlach swats his arm, making him wince. “Another word from you and I may end up hijacking your big day!”

That gets a throaty laugh. “I am not sure I’m opposed to that.” Gale glances up at you with his bright brown eyes. “My love, I suppose we have room for a double wedding?” He adds cheekily, “Please?”

“Making plans without me, hm?” Wyll walks over, standing in front of you all with mock parental disapproval, hands on hips. “I’m sorry to be the one who ruins the fun, but Lady Tara has ordered that the bride and the groom must be separated for the night, not to meet until the ceremony.”

Gale whines unceremoniously and you hold him tighter. “Make me,” you challenge.

Karlach lands a tickle attack.

Instantly the room breaks into chaos. As you and Karlach end up on the floor wrestling in laugher, and Wyll tries to pry Gale away while avoiding the kicks and grabs, you see Da shaking his head with a toothy grin.

He is contented.

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families.

The ceremony is held at the Heroes’ Garden. When the band starts to play, you step forward with your parents. Two gigantic half-orcs and a delicate human woman proves to be quite a sight. You hold your head up high, letting the moon rays light up the gold braided in your hair and adorning your body.

The aisles of chairs are filled with faces both familiar and unfamiliar. The Dekarios clan does take up a large portion of the seats, all of its members transfixed with curiosity, except for Morena, who looks at you with warm encouragement. Several wizards in formal attire, which you assume are Gale’s closer colleagues, quirk their heads as you walk past.

In comparison, your companions’ reaction are much more passionate. You are grateful to see all of them make it on time. Lae’zel has arrived in the form of a slightly flickering astral projection as promised, giving you an approving nod. Minsc and Boo almost jump up from their seats in excitement, barely held down by Jaheira. You are also greeted by some jolly tieflings, among them Alfira, who is wiping her joyful tears. Next to her a dragonborn stranger is clinging to her, somehow sobbing harder. Even Omeluum and Blurg grace you with their presence, and behind them is Elminster, who has closed his eyes as if enchanted by the melody.

Then you see Jina hugging her two sons, one on each side. You smile and give her a little wave. The boys squeal in excitement, shaking their mother.

Only then do you finally, finally, allow yourself to gaze upon Gale Dekarios, your husband-to-be, standing before the altar in his full glory. He looks back at you with the same fervor, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he cannot believe his sight, his luck. As he slowly exhales, you can tell that he is trying hard to control his expression. Wyll, who is standing next to him, gives him a supportive little bump.

He is so beautiful, and in a moment, he will be yours. You will away a primal urge to claim him right then and there, and instead nod to Halsin, signaling for him to start the ceremony.

“And now, standing among Nature and the beauty of Oak Father’s abundant creation, the bride and the groom shall exchange these rings to seal the vows.”

Wyll brings out a pair of earrings, two simple golden pieces adorned with blue sapphires. You have chosen the form of an earring instead of one worn on the finger to avoid the jewelry getting in the way of a throwing fist. Gale has chosen the style, opting for stones that speak of loyalty, of the joining of your souls.

His tender fingers reach out to you, quivering slightly as he lets out a shaking breath. They glaze past your cheek before reaching their destination, and gently fix the small adornment on your left ear lobe. You grin at him, and he mirrors you.

You then reach for him, your thumb wiping away his tears in a featherlight stroke, before slipping to his ear. There his silver earring confronts you, dangling. You slowly remove it, resisting the urge to dump it somewhere far, and drop it into his palm.

Because for him, keeping the symbol of Mystra is less about clinging to a lost love than a continuous process to navigate her inevitable role in his life, for the past, the present, and the future. You know that as a wizard, he will always be connected to her in one way or another, but in what ways, he will have to decide for himself. For so long you have waited, and now the time has come. In the meantime, you silently replace the empty space with your shared symbol of love, giving him a new anchor.

When you are finished, he lowers his gaze to his open hand.

He closes it, and with a deep breath throws the earring into the pond behind you. Someone in the crowd cheers.

With that, you crush your lips into his. You are now as much of a Dekarios as he is a Riversong, your dancing tongues celebrating your union. His scent of sandalwood embraces you fully, as much as your musk, a mixture of the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the soil, fills up his world. You cup his face, pulling him even closer.

“Welcome home,” he mumbles against your lips.

Some parts deep inside you wish the morning light would never come. You wonder, when you were sixteen and ready to leave, did your parents feel the same?

Yet after all the singing and dancing and feasting, the dawn does break, and now you are standing at the city gates of Waterdeep, with your parents and your new husband by your side.

More have come. Your companions, having now made the acquaintance of your father, march together from the garden to the gate. Karlach has picked a weapon with him from the collection you have built up during your shared adventure. You are still in your wedding dress, your dreadlocks styled by your mother into a gilded braid, spiraled like a crown on your head. A simple golden necklace sits on your exposed collarbones, shiny against your purplish skin. Ma told you that it was something she had worn on the day she followed Da into the wild. You touch its chain softly, worshipping the memory it carries.

Your father seems joyful. He has told you, with spoken words more verbose than usual, how honored he is to be seen off by the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate. A sign of fortune, of victory.

He stands in front of Gale and greets him with a bow. Gale, though with turmoil in his eyes, returns the gesture. You remember how Gale struggles to see absence as an act of love, growing up with a father who disappeared without a word, leaving him and his mother to mend their broken hearts.

Da then walks to Ma and cups her face with his palm. Gently, their foreheads rest against each other.

“ELENA, MY LOVE,” he says. “BE WELL.”

And Ma simply nods with a smile, eyes shimmering. Everything that needs to be said has already been conveyed through decades of companionship.

Finally, he walks to you.

“MY GIRL, DO NOT GRIEVE MY DEPARTURE.” He holds your gaze, intense as forge flame. “IN SOLITUDE WE COME, IN SOLITUDE WE GO. SUCH IS OUR PRIDE, THE DESTINY OF A HALF-ORC.”

At the corner of your eye you see Gale turn away, the words too heavy for him to bear. He has just welcomed you into his embrace, far from ready for a foretelling of parting. Your heart aches for him, so you must ask—

“What about for a half-human?”

Gale’s eyes snap back to you, and for a while your father is startled. Then, a beam, the brightest you have ever seen, blossoms on his face. With his wrinkles softened by the morning sunlight, he suddenly looks young again. Perhaps that was what he looked like when Ma first met him, when he saved her from an orc raid all those years ago.

“THAT, MY GIRL, IS FOR YOU TO FIND OUT.”

You snort. What a cheeky answer from him, your lifelong coach on half-orc matters. You suddenly realize that perhaps what he has been teaching you was just his own experience, as a wandering lone ranger who fought his way out of servitude and into a noble’s heart. That perhaps there was never just one way to be a half-orc, a half-human, or anything between and beyond. So, you call to him, a resigned grin on your face.

“Go then, Da, my savage father. Walk far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

With a roaring laugher, he marches, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

The reason this chapter took forever was actually because of the illustration lol

My ambitious ass tries to capture all the key themes in this chapter in one drawing, so the complexity of it worsens my procrastinating tendency sigh

Anyway, it is here now! I have been looking forward to posting this. I see this chapter as an experiment to juxtapose the beginning and the end of a relationship.

Thank you for reading till the end. Would love to hear your thoughts :D

More of my works: Here

#bg3 #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #galemancer #fansart #myart #gale posting #barbarian tav #gale fanfic #gale x reader #gale romance #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart

29 notes · View notes

theemmtropy · 1 year

Text

Beard Care, a Gale x Transmasc!Tav fanfiction

Rating: T, for implied sexual feelings. Nothing explicit!

Tags: Domestic, wholesome, transmasc/trans man Tav, second person POV, supportive Gale, facial hair shaving, shaving with straight razors

Summary: Gale shows you how to care for your new beard, reassuring you that he loves you for who you are. [This takes place after you return home with him.]

Yall know this meme:

In my head, this is that, but mlm and trans.

Read here, or on AO3. Hope you enjoy!

Adventuring has had its costs, but in the end, it has been worth it. Thanks to the generosity and gratitude of those you’ve helped, you’ve finally saved up enough money to begin transitioning with the magic potions available in Waterdeep. And the potions have been working wonders.

You wake up in the late morning, the bed cold beside you. Gale keeps odd hours, sometimes staying up late into the night- or waking up incredibly early- to work on a spell or ritual that has occurred to him. You don’t mind, as you often disappear into your own study to work on your own projects throughout the day. You two are alike in that regard: you’re secure enough in your relationship to know that even when you’re not spending time together, you’ll still be excited to share your work at the end of the day.

Getting up, you head to the bathroom to wash up and get dressed. To your delight, your scruff is starting to grow into a fuller beard, and you realize that you can ask Gale for advice on keeping it neat.

After getting dressed, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen to find your partner attempting to make pancakes- attempting being the key word.

“I don’t understand, what’s the difference between regular flour and bread flour?” You hear him mutter under his breath.

“Protein content, babe,” you answer, causing him to jump with surprise.

“Good morning love, didn’t hear you come in,” Gale says with a smile. “I’m afraid you’re out of flour…” He gestures to his apron and the floor, both of which are covered with all-purpose flour. An overturned mixing bowl rests on the floor as well, with little cat pawprints indented into the soft white dust.

“I take it Tara got a little antsy?” You ask, getting a broom and dustpan and sweeping up the majority of the mess.

“She thought she saw a mouse,” he responds, chuckling. “I intended to surprise you with breakfast in bed, but I suppose it’s too late for that now.”

You shrug. “It’s okay, I can just make us some Baldurian toast. But first,” you grab his hands and put them on either side of your face. “Feel.”

Gale looks confused at first, then a huge smile breaks across his face. “Tav! Your beard is coming in! Actually from the feel of it, it’s here! Oh how wonderful.”

He gives a kiss to both of your cheeks, and you feel your heart swell. Gale has always been supportive of your transition, had even helped you find a hospital that would sell you the potions needed. When you had first met, you’d been scared that he would find you weird, abnormal. But he’d never treated you any differently than he treated the rest of the party, had always given you respect- and once you’d started your relationship, more than respect. There is no doubt in your heart: Gale loves you for who you are.

“I have a favor to ask, before I get to breakfast,” you say. “Would you help me shave? I want it to look nice, groomed- like yours.”

“Well, I’m quite flattered- though not surprised- that my careful trimming has inspired you in your journey,” he responds, standing up straight and showing off his facial hair.

You laugh and roll your eyes, as he removes his dirty apron and sets it on the dining table. He then leads you back to the bathroom. There, he produces a straight-edge razor and shaving cream. “Now, do you want to do it yourself whilst I instruct you, or do you want me to shave you so you can see what it’s supposed to look like?”

You think about his hands on your face- his gentle, steady, lithe, practiced fingers. A thrill runs through you. “I want you to do it.”

He gives a mock bow. “Your wish is my command.”

You sit on the edge of the tub while Gale fetches a chair from another room. Then, once he’s sat opposite you, he lathers up the shaving cream and applies it to one side of your face. “I’m going to do one side at a time, so I can keep a grip on your face,” he explains, then brings the razor to your skin and gently- but firmly- begins his process.

“Now I will say,” he continues as he works, “I didn’t always know what I wanted to do with my beard. I tried a goatee, that was atrocious. I tried just a mustache, but it made me look too pretentious.”

You try not to laugh, worried about getting cut if you move too much. His free hand holds your head at an angle, his fingertips firm against your jaw and the base of your skull. He is so close, his eyes peering at every detail of your skin.

“I eventually found a balance and shape that followed the angle of my cheekbones, while not disrupting the balance of my facial features.” With this, he completes the one side, wipes any residue off, and then applies more cream to the other side.

You turn your head obediently, which prompts him to murmur, “Yes, good boy.” Your body heats up upon hearing this, but Gale doesn’t even seem to realize that he said it; his brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes never leaving your face.

After finishing the other side and wiping it off, he traces a finger under your chin, down your neck. “Shaving this part is optional, I often just leave it, but I can get it for you, if you want?”

In answer, you lift your chin, craning your neck back to stretch the skin out for him. Gently, he applies more cream, and then places a hand at the bottom of your neck, grasping ever so slightly to keep you still. The cold of the razor sends a shiver down your spine as you feel him draw the blade up your neck, stopping only when getting to the underside of your jaw. Then he repeats the process until your neck is clear of hair.

Wherever Gale’s hands touch, you feel your skin spark with life, with need. If he knows the effect he’s having on your body, he doesn’t indicate it. “There,” he says, pulling away once he’s finished. “Let me get you a damp cloth to rinse your face off, then you can have a proper look in the mirror.”

Your skin turns cold as he removes his hands, and you sigh, wishing the moment could have lasted longer. But when he returns with the washcloth, you quickly wipe your face, eager to see the results.

Standing up and looking in the mirror, you see yourself staring back, as always, but this time you feel more… you. Your eyes well up with tears of joy as you gaze at yourself, until you notice Gale staring at your reflection as well.

“You look quite dashing,” he says warmly. “Though, I’ve always thought so, of course. How else would you have been able to seduce me?” He adds playfully.

You crack a grin at him. “Why, I would have seduced you with all your favorite foods, naturally. Speaking of, I believe I promised you Baldurian toast?”

“Before we get to that,” he says, voice growing lower. “I can think of another intimate activity we should do first.”

You match his stare; there is a hunger in it, but not a hunger for food. “I believe I can think of one, as well.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #trans #queer #queer fanfiction #my stuff

85 notes · View notes

tabitha42 · 5 months

Text

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 3

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

Morning came all too quickly. Her body still ached from the day before, made worse now by sleeping on little more than the ground. She could hear movement outside - seems the others were already awake, or some of them at least. The smell of food wafted in and was enough to finally pull her out of bed.

Outside the others were preparing for the day - sharpening weapons, readying armour, inspecting arrows. Gale sat at the campfire, cooking once more. “Saff!” he called once he saw she was up, beckoning her over. “I’ve saved some for you.” She wandered over and sat down next to him. He handed her a plate with some bread and cooked meat. Considering it was rations looted off of dead bodies cooked over a campfire, it looked pretty damn good. She thanked him and eagerly began eating. “We’ll be heading out with the others today to help search for the tieflings. Lae’zel thinks she knows what direction to go in,” he explained, filling her in on the discussions that had happened before she’d woken up.

“Ah… ok,” she said, a little bit nervous. “What about the camp? Shouldn’t someone stay to guard it?” “Shadowheart will stay here.” That took her by surprise. Even though Shadowheart had been pretty quiet last night, one thing Saff had gotten from her was that she was very determined to do whatever needed to be done to free herself of this parasite, and staying in camp for the day didn’t seem to fit in with that.

“Really?” she asked, glancing over at Shadowheart, who was eating her breakfast in front of her tent. “Yep,” he said, before lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “Between you and me, I get the impression she wants to be in Lae’zel’s company for as little time as possible.” “Ah…” she murmured. Now that she thought about it, that matched up with how they’d been acting around each other last night. The two of them clearly weren’t exactly friends. “What about our stuff? Can we trust her with it all?” Gale shrugged slightly. “We don’t have much choice, unless you want to carry that backpack around with you all day.”

She certainly didn’t relish that thought.

“Suppose you’re right…” she muttered. Still, she wondered if this was really the best idea. Shadowheart looked like a much more capable fighter than Saff herself was…

Soon breakfast was done and the four of them were ready to go. “Good luck,” Shadowheart said with a wave as they were about to leave. “Do try not to get yourselves killed.”

“Same to you, darling,” Astarion replied. “It can be awfully dangerous in these woods all on your own.” “I can handle myself, don’t you worry.” With that, they were off. Lae’zel took the lead while the rest of them followed. “You sure you’re ok with this, Lae’zel?” Astarion asked after a while. “Two wizards and a rogue… we won’t exactly be joining you on the front lines.” Despite the apparent concern in his words, the playful nature with which he said them seemed to lack any real concern at all.

“I am perfectly content with that. Less people to get in my way,” she said confidently. Everything she said seemed to be confident, like she had not a shred of self-doubt. Given the stories she’d told them of Githyanki culture, Saff supposed anyone with any self-doubt wouldn’t have survived their training.

“Are you saying our dear Shadowheart got in your way?” Astarion asked, with the tone of a teenager wanting to start drama. “Shadowheart’s been getting in my way since we met her. I will fight better without her.”

Astarion glanced at Saff and Gale, now with the look of a teenager excited about the drama they’d started.

“Well if you can fight even better today we have nothing to fear.”

At this point Saff wasn’t sure if he was actually being sarcastic with everything he said or if that was just how he spoke.

The walk was long, interspersed with the occasional conversation. Astarion seemed quite chatty now, as long as the subject wasn’t himself. During the conversation she decided to tell them all to call her Saff, though mostly because it would be odd to have Gale call her one thing and the others call her another. But she hoped once she got to know the others more she’d feel as comfortable round them as she did right now with Gale.

It was early afternoon when they heard the shouting. Running to catch up with it they discovered what they’d been looking for - a large door, disguised with ivy, manned by tieflings atop the wall. Had it not been for the group of adventures outside the door shouting to be let in, they’d probably not have noticed it.

Then came the goblins. Hollering war cries, the group descended on them and the battle began. Lae’zel wasted no time charging in, and before Saff even knew what was going on, Astarion disappeared into the shadows. She might have thought he’d fled had she not seen an arrow fly out from his hiding place right into the skull of a goblin, before he quickly darted to another hiding spot. Next Gale ran forward and effortlessly threw a firebolt at one of the worgs as it went to attack a tiefling. His hand gestures were so quick she barely saw them. She’d never seen someone cast a spell with such ease… but she soon realised she’d been staring a bit too long as she suddenly noticed a goblin running towards her, taking advantage of her lapse in concentration. In a panic she quickly summoned a firebolt and threw it at the goblin, but her aim was off, and even if it had hit it lacked the power to kill, and the goblin easily dodged to the side. She tried to summon another, but her shaking hands couldn’t do the movements, and before she knew it the goblin was on top of her…

The goblin was slammed aside by a bolt of fire, leaving a huge clump of burnt flesh sloughing off the side of the corpse. She looked in the direction it came from to see Gale looking back at her, taking a moment to be sure she was ok, before quickly turning back to the battle, another spell in hand.

She knew in that moment she had to be better than this, and for now adrenaline drowned out the fear and she found herself running to Gale’s side to join the fight. It was mostly a blur, throwing firebolts and dodging arrows as the sounds of battle cries and dying screams echoed in her ears.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it was over. But she didn’t hear the celebrations of the survivors. She could still hear only the dying, the screaming. The cracking of bones and skulls, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, the stench of burning flesh. She heard voices, but the words were lost. Her hands shook, her heart raced, her ears rang, and all she could do was stare at the massacre in front of her…

Suddenly she was being pulled away. She didn’t resist - she couldn’t even register what was happening enough to consider resisting it. A familiar figure by her side, one arm around her shoulders, the other taking her hand, leading her away from it all. Then she was sat on a stone next to him in the quiet serenity of the forest.

“Saff? Saff, look at me.” His words gradually made their way through her muddled mind and his face came into focus in front of her, a look of deep concern in his eyes.

“Saff, can you hear me? It’s ok…”

She felt him squeeze her hand, and finally the visions of the battle left and she found herself back in the real world. With a deep gasp, as if finally being released from an iron-like grip, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Gods… oh, gods…” she whispered, her voice shaking as much as her hands. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said softly, gently rubbing her back. “It’s over now.”

After a long moment she finally opened her eyes again, and when she did they were full of tears.

“I… I… oh, fuck, what am I doing here…” she whispered in a panic. “I shouldn’t have come… I should have told you I can’t do this… you should have taken Shadowheart, not me…”

“Saff-” “I’ve put you all in danger, I’m just going to slow you all down, I can’t fight like you all ca-” “Saff!”

She went quiet, looking at him in surprise.

“I know this is difficult. Trust me, I do. The first time I ever found myself truly fighting for my life, I was terrified. But I also know that it gets easier. Don’t give in to panic and fear, trust and believe in yourself. You can do this,” he said honestly, squeezing her hand as he spoke.

She looked down, letting his words sink in. Gradually the panic faded, leaving just the warmth his voice gave her. Finally she wiped her eyes and nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice still shaking slightly. He smiled, giving her the time she needed. Eventually she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Lae’zel and Astarion weren’t impressed by this, I’m guessing…” she murmured, dreading the judgemental stares she’d get next time she saw them. “I told them we would stay behind and loot the bodies. I’m not sure how much they realised what was actually happening,” he explained. “Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well… thanks for covering for me,” she said, realising what he’d done for her. “But still… I shouldn’t have let it get to this. I should have told you from the beginning. Someone who can’t fight doesn’t exactly make for a good travelling companion…” “Oh I don’t know about that. I’d still rather travel with you than with any of them.”

Again, she looked at him in surprise. “Really? But… they can all fight. You’d be so much safer with them.” “Perhaps, but a good travelling companion can do more than just fight. Most of travelling is, well, travelling, not fighting. It’s long and boring, and you make far better conversation than they do.”

She had to look away to hide the blush on her cheeks. Though she wondered if he saw anyway, given the way he chuckled.

“Still… I won’t be able to talk us out of a fight, if it comes to it…” She said quietly, feeling doubtful again.

“Then how about some lessons?” he offered. She looked back at him in curiosity. “You clearly have a fairly good grasp of the Weave, but you’ve never really studied combat magic, correct?” She nodded. “Then I shall teach you. And with as great a wizard as me as your teacher, you’ll be a powerful battlemage in no time.”

She was sure whenever he said something a bit full of himself like that it was intended to command respect, though all it ever seemed to do was make her laugh. Luckily, that was exactly what she needed right now.

“Alright, I’ll hold you to that. If I’m not throwing fireballs within a tenday I’ll blame you.”

“Deal,” he said with a smile, holding his hand out. She gladly shook it, feeling a bit more confident about this now. “The lessons start tonight, after dinner.” “I’ll be there,” she promised him, quite looking forward to it. “I suppose for now we’d better get back to the others before they realise something’s up.” “A good plan,” he agreed, standing up. She stood too and together they returned to the site of the battle.

By now several tieflings had come out and started looting the bodies for weapons and supplies. Saff tried to push the images out of her head as they walked past them and through the gate into the grove.

Once inside they met Zevlor, shaking his head over the unconscious adventurer he’d apparently knocked out in a moment of rage, who pointed them further into the grove where the others had gone. They found them talking to one of them men from the fight earlier, who had agreed to join their group in search of a cure. After a tadpole-induced vision of Avernus and quick explanation as to the one-horned devil they saw he introduced himself properly, and Saff's face immediately lit up. “You’re the Blade of Frontiers??” she gasped in excitement. A smile spread across his face, as if he’d been hoping someone would recognise him. “The very same. You’ve heard of me, then?” “Of course! I’ve heard all the stories! You’re fighting evil in the Hells now??”

“Indeed I am. Wherever evil lurks, I will be there to flush it out,” he said proudly. Lae’zel rolled her eyes, Astarion sighed, and Gale looked… just a bit uncomfortable with how much Saff was suddenly gushing over their newest companion. Not that Saff noticed any of this.

“We need to focus on the tadpoles,” Lae’zel reminded them. “Zorru. Where is he?”

“Ah, he’s over there, by the hut,” Wyll said, pointing to a tiefling further down the grove. “Let’s move,” she ordered, starting to head in that direction. “Quite the merry little party now, aren’t we?” Astarion said, referencing how many people they now had. Lae’zel paused. “You’re right. Five is too many. Once we leave here, we will attract too much attention.” “Well, I for one think we should explore all avenues,” Astarion continued. “How about you and I talk to this Zorru while they go talk to that druid healer the trader mentioned?” Lae’zel looked at the others, considering this suggestion.

“A pointless exercise, purification is the only way to cure ourselves. But if seeing for yourself that no others can cure us is the only way you will accept this, then very well. You three seek this healer in the grove - this Nettie. We will speak to Zorru. Return here when you are done.”

With that she turned off and headed towards Zorru. Astarion gave the three of them a look, then went off with her. Gale couldn’t help but wonder if Astarion had some ulterior motive to splitting them up like this… he’d probably never have guessed his motive was just to see what drama would come out of it after seeing how uncomfortable Gale looked just now.

“This way, then,” Wyll announced, leading them towards the druids.

#gale #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav

20 notes · View notes

ilanorgratvol · 1 month

Text

Rough tempest they will raise - Part 4

Table of contents

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When Talia returned to the tower, the moon had already lit up the night city for several hours. As much as her alcohol-clouded mind would allow, she tried to reach her room as quietly as possible. She was almost at the door when her attention was caught by the flicker of light coming from the study. She cursed softly under her breath, shook her head, and stepped into the room.

"Gale, I want you to know..." she started, but stumbled halfway. The wizard was quietly snoring, lying on the couch near the dying fireplace. An open book lay on his chest, which he clutched tightly even in sleep. His brows were furrowed, creating small wrinkles on his forehead between them. Tara was curled up by the fireplace on a pillow, also deep in slumber.

Talia quietly approached the couch, leaned over the wizard, and gently freed the book from Gale's grip, carefully avoiding contact with the orb. She was about to place the book on the table when Gale's hand suddenly grabbed hers, pulling her closer. Without opening his eyes, he whispered, "I don't want to hurt anyone."

Talia exhaled softly and smiled slightly, "It won't happen. Sleep, wizard." She gently freed her hand from his, adjusted the blanket over him, and quietly left the room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning greeted Talia with a dull headache and a horrible taste in her mouth. It wasn’t a new experience for her, but combined with the loud singing of birds outside and the pervasive smell of the sea, it was almost unbearable. Or perhaps the encounter with the sphere had something to do with it. She groaned as she sat up in bed, clutching her head. Slowly cracking her eyes open, trying to adjust to the bright light, she glanced at the bedside table. There was a glass on it, filled with a dark red, slightly cloudy drink. Talia picked up the glass and cautiously sniffed it: tomato juice, celery, spices... It could have been worse. She downed the drink in one big gulp. The cool liquid refreshed her head a bit. Finally finding the strength to start the day, she headed to the kitchen, where the familiar smell of breakfast was already wafting through the air.

“Where did you learn to make stuff like this?” - Talia asked, walking into the kitchen and placing the empty glass in the sink.

Gale smirked without taking his eyes off the stove. “Well, I know I don’t give off that impression, but I can boast of a rather lively past, mostly spent between the Academy and the Yawning Portal.”, - he took the pan of eggs off the heat, plated the food, and placed the plates on the table, - “I’m surprised you stayed after what happened yesterday. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful…”

Talia raised a hand, cutting him off: “I didn’t stay because of you, don’t kid yourself. I made a deal with Elminster, and that means I have to fulfill the conditions. It’s not about you.”

“Oh…” - Gale sighed, - “Well, in any case, if it means I get a second opinion on my condition, I suppose I shouldn’t care too much about your motives.”

Talia nodded and began to eat breakfast. Gale followed suit, occasionally casting slightly disappointed glances her way. They ate silently for a while before Gale continued, - “I suppose your method of studying the sphere is now off the table. I could give you access to some potentially interesting works written by my colleagues who studied the Netherese Empire…”

“No,” - Talia interrupted, - “I said I wouldn’t touch that thing. But that doesn’t mean I can’t continue studying it.”

Gale frowned: “But how…”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” - Talia replied with a mischievous grin, - “We’ll run a few experiments.”

“Excuse me! I’m all for the scientific approach, but turning myself into a test subject...”, - Gale raised a finger as if to make a point, but Talia cut him off again.

“Do you want to get rid of this thing, or are you ready to resign yourself to being a walking bomb for the rest of your short life?”

Gale sighed in resignation: “Fair enough.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thus began the long weeks of their now joint seclusion in his tower. Gale buried himself in books and ancient texts, hoping to find any clues, while Talia conducted her experiments. Cold temperatures, hot temperatures, lightning and thunder spells, illusory spells—every known type of magic was tested. But no matter what she tried, the orb only greedily absorbed the energy from the spells, and nothing seemed to alter its state.

Talia was sitting on the couch, resting her head on her hand, frowning deeply. Over the past three weeks, she had tested all her ideas and hypotheses, and her confidence in success had nearly evaporated. She looked up as Gale entered the room, carrying two mugs of coffee.

“What are we doing wrong?” - she asked, taking the mug from him. Gale joined her on the couch.

“Maybe nothing. I’m starting to think that if there was a logical explanation, we would have found it by now. Which means it’s Mystra’s will to continue punishing me for my…”

“Oh, shut up,” - Talia cut him off, waving a hand dismissively, - “Your goddess clearly doesn’t care about you, I won’t argue with that. But I don’t think she’s sitting around just waiting for another chance to teach you a lesson.”

Gale winced slightly, as if in pain, and rubbed his chest near the collarbone.

“Are you alright?” - Talia frowned.

“Fine,” - Gale replied, rotating his shoulder a few times before returning to his coffee.

Talia watched him for a few more seconds, her frown deepening. But once she was convinced he was okay, she returned to the conversation.

“I think we need to take a step back,” - Talia said, taking a sip of coffee, - “I want to visit the place where it all started.”

“Go to Karse? Absolutely not,”, - Gale replied firmly, - “The Shrine of the Undying Heart has become a haven for fanatics and cultists. You have no idea what it took for me to get in there the first time when I was at the peak of my powers. Let alone now…”

“The Chosen of Mystra is afraid of a bunch of cultists?” - Talia smirked.

“It’s not just a bunch of fanatics,” - Gale said, his voice growing more serious, - “it’s a group of necromancers, so deranged that they’ve dedicated their lives to resurrecting Karsus. We won’t get through.”

“Speak for yourself,” - Talia replied dismissively.

Suddenly, Gale doubled over in pain, clutching his chest where the orb was embedded. But it didn’t hide the bright violet light that began to seep through his fingers.

Talia quickly set down the mugs on the table behind the couch and knelt beside Gale.

“What’s happening? Let me see…” - She instinctively reached out to his chest, trying to move his hand, but Gale roughly pushed her away.

“Don’t you dare! It will pass… I just need to…” - Gale couldn’t finish the sentence, doubling over again in agony, growling through the pain.

An anxious Tara burst into the room: "Mr. Dekarios, what...," - she began, but upon seeing the wizard in his current state, she rushed to his side, - "Gale, you said there was still time..."

"Time?" - Talia looked between the wizard and the tressym in confusion, - "Time for what?!"

She frantically tried to understand what had gone wrong, and then it hit her. Anger must have flashed across her face because Tara arched her back and backed away, preferring not to intervene.

"You idiot!" - Talia hissed, - "When was the last time you fed the orb?"

It finally dawned on her that during her entire time in Gale's tower, she hadn't seen anything resembling the orb consuming magical artifacts.

"A month ago..." - Gale gasped, - "Tara tried to find new artifacts, but...", - His words turned into a pained howl, unable to continue.

"Arrogant fool!" - Talia yanked his hand away from his chest, pulling open the collar of his shirt, not caring about the buttons that tore off, - "You're going to destroy half the city!"

She hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and placing her hand on the orb. The familiar sensation of suffocation and dizziness enveloped her mind. But this time, she didn't resist. She leaned in closer, allowing the orb to feed on her Weave. Through the haze, the last thing she saw was Gale's terrified expression before she finally slipped into darkness.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talia slowly opened her eyes, her view entirely filled by the worried face of the wizard sitting by her bedside, holding her hand. Noticing that she was finally awake, he let out a relieved sigh.

"How are you feeling?" - he asked.

Talia pulled her hand away and tried to conjure a small fireball in her palm. The Weave responded reluctantly, but she still felt the warmth in her hand. "Still me..." - she murmured.

"That’s not an answer to my question," - Gale replied.

"I wasn’t planning to answer your question because the answer is damn obvious!" - she growled, - "What were you thinking?!"

"I was about to ask you the same!" - Gale snapped back, - "You took a risk for me. I didn’t ask you to do that."

"Please! If I hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve blown up the city!" - Talia managed to sit up in bed with some effort.

"I would have found a way," - Gale protested.

"Bullshit!" - Talia couldn’t hold back, - "We’re going to that temple, whether you like it or not."

"You can’t be serious..." - Gale tried to argue.

Talia glared at him, sparks of anger in her eyes. Gale let out a heavy sigh: "You’ll be the death of me..."

"Look who’s talking!" - she retorted, waving her head and opening the door, signaling that she wanted to be alone.

The wizard stood up from the chair and slowly left the room. Talia noticed that he walked steadily, calmly, and that the orb showed no signs of disturbance. Her Weave had worked…

#bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x sorcerer tav

9 notes · View notes

selunesdreams · 4 months

Text

Chapter 33: Closure

“Do you love her?” “Yes.” “Was it love at first sight?” “Certainly not on her end. I think she detested me at first sight.” “And you?” “I…it happened slowly. And then all at once."

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full chapter/story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+. Blood, vampire bites, trauma, mild violence (this chapter). Preexisting relationship, relatively mild chapter but part of a series (that is generally explicit).

--------------------------------------------

Shadowheart blows on her porridge, her eyes flicking above the steam coming off the bowl as Celeste enters the kitchen with a grin, swiping an orange off the counter. With a grin, Celeste plops down across from her at the breakfast table and casually peels the fruit with her fingers.

“Sleep well?” She asks the cleric, whose mussed hair and irritable expression seem to suggest otherwise.

“Quite alright, until I rolled over on a godsdamned stake.” Shadowheart growls. “I do not mind sharing a bed with you if it helps you sleep, but I’d ask you to keep your extracurricular activities to the weapons rack and not under your pillow.”

“Apologies,” Celeste mutters, her cheeks turning pink, “Keresta is still out there and it…brings me comfort.”

With a loud clang, Shadowheart drops her spoon into her bowl. “Keresta, or Astarion?” she asks pointedly. Celeste averts her gaze.

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“What will you do, Celeste,” Shadowheart leans forward, “if Astarion turns back up? I somehow doubt you’d honestly kill him. Haven’t we all come to the consensus that his actions, although misguided, were well-intentioned anyway?”

“What he did was still deceitful, selfish-”

“You love him. Why are you so eager to put him on trial?”

Celeste’s chair creaks loudly, dragging across the floor as she stands.

“Why are you so eager to defend him?”

“Because I can see how much this is hurting you.” Shadowheart tilts her head and offers a sympathetic expression. “I know you don’t come to our bed every night because you’re scared-”

“Stop.” Celeste interrupts through gritted teeth.

“-It’s because you’re grieving. Because you miss him.” Shadowheart finishes, ignoring her request.

With a clenched jaw, Celeste discards the half-peeled orange in the rubbish bin. It thunders against the wood, causing the container to wobble on the uneven floorboards.

“I think we can skip our lesson today.” She says, stalking off. Her shoulder collides with Gale’s as he enters the kitchen, causing him to stumble slightly in surprise, looking on, perplexed, as she storms upstairs. With a raised eyebrow, he turns back to Shadowheart and gives his lover a quizzical glance.

“Did I do something?” He asks, pointing at his chest.

“No, Gale.” Shadowheart sighs, shuffling over and greeting him with a kiss on the cheek, “I think I perhaps am the one who said too much this time.”

--------------------------------

“Do you even have the slightest idea where you’re going?”

Astarion follows Portia begrudgingly as she leads him through the winding tunnels of the Undermountain, peeking around every corner expecting an ambush. It felt as if an eternity had passed as they trudged on, with no signs of getting any closer to the surface.

“Would you stop your whining, ” Portia hisses, “we can’t leave through the main exit, unless you’d like to stop and check in with Keresta on the way out.”

Astarion grunts. “Where is she, anyway?”

“In her quarters with Nightfall and some of the other acolytes. They’re strategizing an attack on the Selûnite temple come next new moon.”

The vampire stops in his tracks.

“What for?”

“Keresta believes the Tear might be there. Even if it is not, she seeks revenge. That is why you must get back to your companions, to stop her before there is more innocent bloodshed.”

“How big of an attack?”

“Big.”

“You’ve seen her plans unfold before. Do you think we stand a chance?”

“I would not know without meeting your companions.”

Astarion grins. “I’ll be happy to introduce you. I think you’ll find them quite capable.”

A hint of a smile tugs at Portia’s lips. “We shall see.” She waits for a group of guards passing from the dungeons to cross the hall.

“Do you have anyone else in Waterdeep when you escape?”

“No,” Portia says, shaking her head, “I only had Rylan. Though I do have family in Daggerford. Perhaps I’ll find them once this is all over.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t hope to stay and fight in your condition?”

“I need to see her die, Astarion. It is the only thing I’ve dreamed of for three years.”

Astarion lowers his eyes. “I know that feeling all too well.” He mumbles.

--------------------------------------

In the dark attic, Celeste picks at a stray thread on the button-eye of her childhood owlbear, her fingers dragging along the fiber absentmindedly. The afternoon had slipped away while she remained in bed, skipping her lessons with Wyll.

She had indulged Shadowheart’s request for routine, to make something of her sorrow, but it seemed the rage inside of her only grew stronger, festering, with no place to release it. Whether she attempted to meditate, wield her sword to expel the feelings from her body, or reach for her magic to fill the void, all attempts were in vain. What she needed was too evasive, impossible in a situation like hers…

Closure.

He was not dead. He did not leave her, not really. And so she found herself stuck in a purgatory of yearning and anger, with no sign of relief.

With a creak, the door opens a small crack on its hinges. Just as a torch from the hall illuminates Shadowheart’s face, Celeste hastily conceals the stuffed owlbear under her pillow.

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” Celeste sits up and wraps her arms around her legs, drawing them close.

“I was a bit… harsh, earlier. I apologize.” Shadowheart says, “I suppose I could have been more tactful.”

“I could have been less sensitive,” Celeste responds, resting her chin on her knees. “You weren’t wrong, you know,” she mutters.

“I’m never wrong.” Shadowheart beams.

Celeste laughs through her nose as she pulls her friend into a warm embrace. Shadowheart initially resists before surrendering to the affection.

“It hurts, Shadow,” she whispers, her voice breaking as her demeanor suddenly changes. “It hurts so much.”

“I know.” Shadowheart pulls back, holding Celeste by the shoulders. “Come downstairs with me. Gale told me he’s trying his hand at roast tonight and I need moral support in case I have to pretend to like it.”

—————————————

“Tell me about Celeste,” Portia prompts as she guides Astarion up a steep dirt slope.

Astarion squints. “What do you want to know about her?”

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Certainly not on her end. I think she detested me at first sight.”

“And you?”

“I…it happened slowly. And then all at once. She intrigued me at first sight, but I wouldn’t call it love.”

“What would you call it?”

Astarion chuckles. “Lust, awe, desire… infatuation, perhaps.”

“So, when did you realize you loved her?”

Astarion swallows his grief as he thinks about her.

"I think there were moments that propelled me closer to loving her - moments of intimacy, or when I saved her from her from the fire but…the first time I angered her, the first time I realized I might have lost her favor, that she wanted nothing to do with me…I knew something had changed. I’d never cared who I’d pissed off before.”

“You haven’t answered my question.” Portia says impatiently, beckoning for him to follow her down a vacant hallway.

Closing his eyes, Astarion takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“When I found her near death, when I thought I’d genuinely lose her forever, after she dug herself out of a grave…I wasn’t afraid of losing her favor, but her life. For her to truly be lost to this world…I made me feel as if I were dying.”

Portia’s throat bobs, her hand grazing the wall for support as she turns to face him.

“I know that feeling all too well.”

—————————————

“A necromancer? Running a carnival? ”

Celeste’s voice rings through the kitchen, her hand on the base of her throat as she gasps for breath. Karlach’s animated storytelling about procuring an infamous circus clown’s appendages elicits a hearty laughter from Celeste, instantly dispelling her earlier moodiness.

“You won’t believe the lengths we went to get his hand!” Karlach booms.

“Or what Minthara looks like in face paint.” Shadowheart interjects, her voice laced with amusement.

“And the djinn that turned Astarion into a-” Gale stops mid sentence, his cheerful expression faltering as he clears his throat. “Apologies.” He sets his goblet down, avoiding the withering look Shadowheart gives him.

Celeste closes her eyes and forces a brief smile. “No need. He’s not dead. We shouldn’t act like it.” She dabs an invisible drop of wine from her lips with her napkin and folds it gingerly, setting it down on her plate.

“If you’ll excuse me.” She says quietly, rising carefully from her seat. As she closes the front door behind her, she hears Gale curse as Karlach says something in a reassuring tone.

The air feels damp, as if clinging to her skin, carrying the scent of petrichor, hinting at the imminent rainfall. Celeste takes a seat on Shadowheart’s favorite log near the treeline, her fingertips tracing the letters carved into the rough bark.

A soft smirk graces her lips as she traces the elegant curve of Gale’s initial etched into the wood. “Oh, Shads,” she murmurs, “You secret romantic, you.”

“He’s a fool for you, you know.”

Celeste’s head jerks up to find Wyll before her, arms crossed, a mischievous grin adorning his face. He playfully taps his foot.

“Gale?” Celeste asks, frowning.

Wyll scoffs. “Don’t be daft. Astarion.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She snips, glancing away.

Lowering himself onto the log beside her, Wyll leans in and clasps his hands together, letting his head fall back to admire the night sky.

“You don’t want to talk about him because you spend all your time thinking about him.”

“Perhaps you should mind your business,” Celeste grumbles.

With a taunting gesture, Wyll seizes the hilt of his sword. “Want to work off that sour disposition?”

“I don’t have my sword.”

“Then it appears I’ll have an advantage.” Wyll leaps to his feet and strikes to her right, purposefully missing within inches of her.

“Hey!” Celeste scrambles off the log onto the dirt and brushes herself off as she stands.

“Come on, Delios, you’ve got the moon overhead, you can do better than that!” Wyll swings again and Celeste ducks, his blade sending a whoosh of air over her head.

Celeste utters a sound of frustration and sprints toward the weapon rack across the lawn. She leaps, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins, as her hand grasps her sword hanging there, as if it were waiting for her all day. She turns and blocks Wyll’s next strike just as it descends upon her.

“Now it’s a fight!” He exclaims excitedly.

“What is the point of this?” Celeste shouts over the sounds of their swords clanging, ringing through the night air.

“Think of it as punishment for skipping lessons today so you could sit around and brood!”

“I was not brooding! ” Celeste parries and rolls to the right, her body moving with agility and grace as she swiftly regains her footing.

“You’ve done nothing but since he left! Have hope, Celeste!”

“What’s the point?” She snarls.

“So that when my friend returns,” Wyll pants, his sword colliding with hers, the two of them bracing their weapons against one another in a draw, “he has the only person he’s ever loved more than himself waiting for him.”

With a grinding scream, Celeste’s blade slides along the length of Wyll’s, reverberating through her arms. She brings it down to her side, glowering at him.

“And what about me? What about my pain? What about how he’s wounded me? ”

The warlock wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. “I never said you shouldn’t hold him accountable.”

“How can I do anything at all?” Celeste asks incredulously, dropping her sword and holding her hands out, gesturing to their surroundings. “He’s not here!”

Wyll stabs his blade into the ground, frowning. “You make him better. I’ve seen it. He needs you-”

“But he’s not here!” Celeste sobs, expelling the air from her lungs. She looks at the stars and curses a tear rolling down her cheek.

Wyll steps forward, an empathetic grimace on his face, and pulls her into a tight hug before Celeste rasps again.

“He’s not here.”

———————————————

“This feels too easy.”

Astarion stands at the base of an imposing ladder, unsure of where he will end up when he reaches the top.

“Whether that’s true, we do not have the luxury of time. Go, vampire.”

Realization dawns on him, and his face goes slack.

“You’re not coming.”

“No, it’s a long climb, and I’m too weak to make it.”

“You never planned on coming.”

“I am of more use to you here. Perhaps I can turn the tables in your favor. I’ll tell Keresta you overpowered me.”

“Portia-”

“Would you rather watch me fall to my death halfway up that ladder?”

Without uttering a word, Astarion gazes at her with a sorrowful expression.

“I will need you to bite me,” Portia continues, “to make it look believable.”

“Absolutely not. You’re practically on death’s door already.”

“Keresta will kill me if she suspects I’ve betrayed her. Or worse.”

“Gods above, woman, do you have a fucking death wish?”

“Only for a very specific person.”

Astarion groans and releases his grip on the ladder, bracing his hands on Portia’s shoulders.

“Hold still, then.” he says reluctantly, before biting into her neck.

With a swift and precise strike, his sharp fangs pierce through Portia’s delicate skin. He retracts just as quickly, fighting against the overwhelming desire to savor her blood and prolong the feeding. He tastes a faint hint of copper on his tongue as he wipes his mouth.

“Thank you, Portia. I won’t forget this.”

She touches her throat, her fingertips stained crimson with her own blood. With an unsettling sense of satisfaction, she examines her hand, now drenched in red.

“When you kill her, make sure she dies screaming.”

Without another word, Portia turns on her heel and walks back down the tunnels towards Vanrakdoom.

Astarion remains motionless, one hand resting on the ladder, wondering what he’d done to deserve so many second chances.

——————————————

Just as sleep claims Celeste, she wakes with a sense of foreboding. Her eyelids flutter open and her heart falters as she sees a dark figure looming near the open balcony of Gale’s bedroom, sending a jolt of panic prickling every inch of her body.

“Well, this is not what I had expected.” A low voice growls.

Celeste’s fingers curl tightly around the stake under her pillow and she thrusts her body forward, tackling the intruder to the ground. As her vision adjusts to the dark, she drives the stake towards the vampire’s heart and his hand catches her wrist before it finds its mark.

“Hello, lover.” Astarion purrs.

I hope you enjoyed this installment! If you feel so inclined, I'd super appreciate any interaction/kudos on AO3 or Tumblr! If this is where you first found the story, you can go back and find the full fic on AO3 here! Thank you so much! x

#astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion #baldurs gate oc #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fic #baldurs gate fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #formsofimprisonment #forms of imprisonment #bg3 astarion #bg3

17 notes · View notes

faerunsbest · 3 months

Note

Tell me what life with Ma’na might be like in the cottage

Ma'na would be

unreasonably HAPPY

Not pictured is a river behind the hill, that leads into a forest. On the other side of her hilltop home is a mountain range.

She would built this after say a year or two of exploring before fi ding the perfect spot just far enough from a city to be out of range but close enough to go shopping and visiting.

She cleared that space on the hill, made that house, she went and filled the whole place with memories of that adventure. She requesdammons help with repurposing old armor and broken blades into housewares like knows pulls and hooks. He even used scraps to make spoons and things.

Gales old staff is now a curtain rod, the blanket on the bed is old clothes from everyone at camp sewn together. She worked quite hard to learn each task and make a home worth living in. When it's made, she will bring her person to it and shout SURPRISE!

Living with her is a kind of funny now as she loves waking up and making tea, she learned a lot and wants to spoil her person. She's figured out pancakes and bacon and is happy bring breakfast up

The home is sparse and she wants to make more with her person. She wants them to put themselves and their touch on it.

She's going to have a fireplace inside where she likes to nap with her person cuddle and now that she knows how she's going to sit with them and read. Domestic Ma'na is quite blissful, if you get sick she's happy to make soup since wyll taught her about spices. She'll make broth and buy bread she's still not much if a baker. But she'll make you tea and be happy to be your nurse.

You can even pretend to be sick if you want to be spoiled, or just give a big deep heavy sigh and she'll keep you in bed all dang day.

When you feel good she's dragging you to the river to fish and look for pretty rocks. She'll take you to the woods to go hunting, foraging and bring back firewood.

If you prepare the meats, Ma'na will treat the skin to make leather and furs.

She's gonna spend her life in this place being love, that's really the goal

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #tav #domestic fluff #Ma'na

5 notes · View notes

emmy-dekarios-bg3 · 6 months

Text

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction

Chapter 9

“Gods be damned, I’m going to bed,” I say with frustration. Not at Gale of course, but at the entirety of this situation that’s causing an ungodly amount of stress and anger. How on Earth can Raphael possibly vanish? What are we supposed to do? It appears our only option is pleading for forgiveness – and even then, that may not even suffice.

“I’m right there with you.” Gale crawls into the comfortable, soft bed with me wrapping his arms around me from behind as a wave of calmness and clarity fills the room; but from what? “I figured the Weave might help perish your anxiety.” Every ounce of it begins to fade as the Weave blankets over my body and spirit, eliminating all terrible feelings within me. Gale can also feel the serenity in the room, absorbing every moment of it.

“This…helps,” I murmur, noticing the cobalt blue light of magic circulate around the room. I turn to face my darling husband, cuddling up close to his warm body. “While I still feel sick, my anxiety has at least faded.”

“Good, that was my goal. You’re my whole world. I love you.” His soft whispers remind me of threads of silk; thrilling to the soul, and so delicate you don’t want to leave. I press my lips against his as we embrace each other within the Weave.

In my dream, I only see pink clouds and astral skies, my spirit dancing within them as I’m being held by Gale. I feel an overwhelming but amazing sensation of ecstasy as I’m floating through the exotic skies, never wanting this moment to end. Is this a dream or is this the Weave’s doing? Either way, my body feels free as I flourish through the air without a single care in the world. Alive. Sensational. Free of worries and pain.

The morning sun arises, gleaming through the glass windows of our room. However, it isn’t the sun that wakes us up, but Astarion and Karlach, though there’s no surprise about that. I finally got a well-rested sleep, my body feeling refreshed and my mind at ease. Astarion knocks on the door, scaring the shit out of me.

“Come on, let’s go. Ugh. We don’t have all day,” he says impatiently.

“I’m so cozy,” I tell Gale, finding it a struggle to get out of bed. I curl up against him, hiding my face in his chest for just a brief moment. “I guess it’s best though so you can get back to teaching.” He smiles at me as he lifts my chin up with his hand, gazing deep into my eyes. Our eyes are like magnets; holding onto each other and refusing to pull away.

“I’m so sorry baby, though you are correct. I just worry about Raphael popping up spontaneously while I’m teaching and…well, who knows what would happen other than a disaster?”

“New fear unlocked.” He has a point. It seems we’re being spied on once more, and he could come at us at the most inconvenient of times. Last thing we need is having him there while Gale is teaching or while I’m in labor. I wish there was a way to stop him for good.

We all leave Sharess’s Caress and stop for food before heading back out on the roads to Waterdeep. A long adventure is heavily anticipated, though I hope it’s less terrifying than it was on the way here.

“Well, it was nice being here for a day. Too bad it’s not acceptable to scream as loud as I can within the city anymore,” Karlach says, followed by a disappointed sigh. We all look at her for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in that tiefling head of hers.

“Um… Anymore?” Astarion questions, his voice filled with confusion.

“So Gale, I know being a scholarly wizard has been your dream for years now, but now that you’re expecting a little one, are you looking forward to it?” Shadowheart asks, shoving a juicy ripe tomato in her mouth. Not something I’d call breakfast, but who is to judge? “Will you teach them the ways of the Weave?”

“Um, maybe when they’re a little older, I can teach them the beauty of magic, educating them on the exquisite, boundless streams of the Weave. Ah. To teach my own flesh and blood the ways of magic, and the possibility of them following in my footsteps makes me ecstatic! The thought of a small child vomiting on me isn’t quite a pleasant thought, nor is the idea of sleepless nights and changing diapers more or less. It’s a tad displeasing.”

“Oh come on, why?!” Karlach shouts.

“Because it’s gross, that’s why.”

“Oh, but you can tolerate the Temple of Bhaal?”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

As we make our way past Rivington and lead into what was once known as the Shadow Lands, more and more old Absolute symbols are being spotted on rocks and even on the sides of buildings. Luckily, the lands are being restored and it looks like locals are trying to paint over them.

“The lands that were once full of corrupted shadows blossomed into a new life full of light and new beginnings,” Shadowheart says as she admires the scenery. It really is so much brighter and full of life unlike before.

“Just like you, Shadowheart,” I tell her, a smile growing upon my face. She smiles back and I notice a small blushing of her cheeks. Ages ago, she would have thrown a sarcastic remark at me and a smirk.

“I could live without these damned symbols everywhere. They must be from when the shadows corrupted the lands,” Astarion mumbles. I notice he’s walking in the sun with no issues, and he knows it. Is there something he’s hiding? How is it that he’s walking in the light? Now is not the time to ask, but I plan on it once we get back to Waterdeep. I do wonder why he hasn’t brought it up though.

“Unfortunately, Raphael is responsible for the uprising once more. Hopefully it won’t last forever,” Gale says and sighs with concern.

“Please tell me Waterdeep is serene and not a howling wasteland?”

“Too late to turn back now, Astarion,” he teases in response.

I can’t seem to shake off the terrifying thoughts of Raphael taking our newborn and using it as thrall for his Hell home. The idea of him torturing our baby, taking away the child’s mind of its own and ability to be its own person… A little whimper escapes my mouth as these unsettling thoughts cross my mind. I try to fight off the tears but they are uncontrollable. All heads turn toward me, and it appears everyone is thrown off by my sobbing, especially Gale.

“I have never seen you cry like this before, are you alright?” Astarion asks. Gale takes a step toward me, pulling me close in his arms as I cry. This is the first time anyone in the party has seen me upset – well, except for when I found out I was pregnant.

“What’s the matter, my love?” Gale asks, brushing my dark curls out of my face. “You can tell me.”

“It’s…Raphael. He wants to take our baby and use it as a thrall. I don’t know how to stop him.”

“WHAT?” Wyll asks, his face shifting to an angry expression. “Emmy, you know damned well we won’t let him hurt that baby. We destroyed the elder brain, remember? We can do this. The child will be alright.” Wyll’s words are more than reassuring and my tears begin to dry up. I take a deep breath, feeling my anxiety loosen up a little. He’s right. Though Raphael may be a threat, he’s not impossible. Who knows? There may be a way around this situation.

As we venture through the cleansed area full of lively petunias and daffodils, I notice a few graves – which appear to be the ones of the tieflings that lost their lives, including Arabella’s parents.

After quite a few hours of just walking through the lands of what used to be corrupted shadows, we decided to build our camp and rest for the night. We eat at the campfire but my exhaustion makes it hard for me to enjoy myself fully with everyone, so I lie in the tent alone for a while until Gale is ready to come to bed. I could tell he’s invested in a conversation with Wyll and I love seeing it, but my exhaustion just can’t keep up.

After a couple hours, Gale finally comes to accompany me in the tent, curling up to my body.

“Just think, tomorrow we will be back in our own bed. It will be easier for us to just lie there and snuggle all night long,” he whispers in my ear, his soft voice giving me goosebumps across my body. “I guess we still need to talk to my mother as well at some point. She will be thrilled about the news!” His facial expression quickly shifts as he notices the exhaustion and inability to sleep. “Oh. I’m so sorry. Are you unable to sleep?” I turn to face him, restless but grateful he’s next to me at this very moment; otherwise, my anxiety would be taking a toll.

“I wish I could sleep. I need to think about what Wyll said before, it helped. You being here, though, makes me feel at ease.” He places a hand on my belly as he gazes deep into the depths of my eyes.

“I’ll never leave you. Ever.” I smile lightly, feeling a strong sense of comfort. I begin to think how differently life would be if Gale took the crown. How there’s no way we would be where we are now, and who knows if that’s good or bad. I look at the late night sky, listening to the crickets chirp and the soft sound of owls hooting.

“Do you ever regret not taking the crown?” Gale stops to think for a moment, contemplating the life we would have if he did ascend to godhood.

“You know what? No. Like, yes, you and I would have immortality and we probably wouldn’t have given up the crown as easily as Mystra did. But who is to say I could handle it? Would I still be the same Gale I am now, or would I become someone I don’t recognize?” I curl up with my darling husband, smiling as I listen to him talk. I’m grateful he made the choice that was best for him. It’s comforting that he realizes now that obtaining the crown would be a terrible idea for everyone involved.

“You’ll be such a great father,” I whisper, feeling a hint of sleepiness hit me like a train. He smiles, making that cute little chuckle sound he makes all the time, a part of him I absolutely adore.

“I’m truly glad you think so. You’ll be a fantastic mother and I look forward to our future.” Before I know it, I fall into a deep, heavy slumber in his arms.

#baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #dnd #bg3 #dungeons and dragons #shadowheart #astarion #karlach #wyll ravengard #lae'zel #halsin #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep · 9 months

Text

Poor Little Rich Girl Chapter 12. About Last Night

Summary: Dulcinea and Gale enjoy each other’s company. Rating: MA; NSFW ahead feat. Gale’s practiced tongue Category: F/M Relationships: Tav/Gale Chapter 12/? Word count: 3.8k

Dulcinea crawled from her tent, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and stretching. Gale was already busying around the fire, taking stock of what supplies they had on hand for breakfast.

“Good morning,” Dulcinea yawned, sauntering over to where Gale sat picking through a wooden crate. “What are we making today?”

Gale smiled up at her. “A simple, but tried and true omelette.”

Dulcinea knelt down beside him, taking her position at the cutting board where Gale had laid out tomatoes, garlic, and onion for her to chop.

Gale was quite pleased that Dulcinea had asked him to teach her how to cook. It had become a point of bonding between the two of them. Dulcinea would prep vegetables and Gale would explain lanceboard strategy at length and talk about arcane history. Dulcinea mostly listened, but would chime in with stories of her upbringing in Athkatla, her family, the mischief she would get into, and how she usually talked her way out of consequences.

Normally, Dulcinea could find a sense of flow while chopping vegetables but that morning she struggled to focus. Her brain swirled continuously with thoughts of her and Gale and their night spent in the astral plane. He showed her his library, the cornerstone of his world. He hung the moon and stars for her in his own way. They made love for the first time, their spirits rising into the stars together. Gale triplicated himself and showered her in unfathomable pleasure. He did all of this to tell her and show her how much he loved her.

“Dulcinea,” Gale said, touching her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Dulcinea jumped, but smiled when she realized it was Gale. “Oh, lost in thought, I suppose.” She chuckled. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing! You should be so lucky,” Gale grinned.

“I was only making an observation,” Dulcinea retorted playfully. She returned to her work, managing to chop two onions before pausing once more to wander within her mind. Her thoughts flickered between memory and reality, trying to focus on chopping garlic while remembering the way in which Gale held her, as if she was made of bone china — something delicate and precious.

“Let me guess — are you reminiscing about our night together?” Gale purred, taking the chopped vegetables to the frying pan.

“And you aren’t?” Dulcinea smirked, turning to watch him sauté the vegetables.

“It was the only thing on my mind upon waking this morning,” he replied. “Your words and your touch reminded me what living can feel like.”

Dulcinea flushed. “You flatter me,” she said, settling her gaze on him. “You did all of the work last night.”

“Generosity is a virtue, be that in the streets, at the charity box, or betwixt the sheets. And it should be no surprise that I have a practiced tongue,” he smirked. “I only hope last night meant as much to you as it did to me. And I hope we can have more time together… alone.”

Dulcinea’s gaze smoldered as she bit her lower lip. “Oh, I can assure you that.” She glanced around the camp, seeing if the others were beginning to awaken. “Will you come to my bed tonight?”

“With pleasure,” Gale winked, highlighting the double entendre.

When Gale arrived to Dulcinea’s tent, she was wearing one of his old purple robes, one he hadn’t worn in some time. It was baggy and practically engulfed her. Beneath the neckline, a hint of cleavage peeked out at him. Dulcinea’s taut, muscular legs were partially visible as she rested her weight through her hip in a side-lying position.

“So that’s where it went,” Gale laughed.

“It smells like you and you weren’t using it,” Dulcinea shrugged. “I thought I could repurpose it.”

“It looks better on you,” Gale smiled, crawling into the tent next to her. He cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. “But I have a feeling that you will look even better without it.”

“Let’s see what’s under here, shall we?” He slowly peeled the robe from her shoulders, revealing her breasts, then her torso, and finally her hips and thighs.

“My, what a beautiful sight you are, Dulcinea,” Gale breathed, taking in the sight of his lover. He reached for her, caressing her from her breasts to her hips. He pulled her closer to him, feeling the warmth of her body against his as he kissed her. Dulcinea’s tongue pressed against his mouth, requesting entry. Gale obliged her, sliding his tongue into her mouth. When their lips parted, Gale removed his tunic, revealing himself to her. His body was soft, but muscular; easy to cuddle with and just as enjoyable to fuck.

Dulcinea pressed her hands to his chest, guiding him down to the floor of the tent. She kissed him once more, trailing kisses down his neck, over the violet Netherese orb scar, down his stomach, stopping just above his leggings. Dulcinea found where his leggings laced shut and began unlacing them with her incisors. Gale thrust his hips upwards, pulling off his leggings while Dulcinea started to unlace his Netherese underwear with her teeth, pulling them off of him herself. His member, thick and uncircumcised, stiffened in anticipation of her.

She looked up at him as her hands gripped his hips. “May I suck your cock?” she asked in a coyly pleading tone. “Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” Gale smirked. He felt his cock pulsate eagerly as he thought of her touch. Dulcinea lowered herself to lick at his shaft teasingly before taking him into her mouth.

Gale’s legs trembled involuntarily as Dulcinea sucked his cock hungrily. He could feel the head of his member pushing rhythmically into the back of her throat as she brought him deeper into her mouth, over and over again, each stroke better than the last.

She glanced up at him. His head was tilted back, his lips slightly ajar. His lower lip trembled as she retracted her lips toward the head of his cock. She rested there momentarily, gauging his response. Reflexively, Gale reached for the back of her head, burying his fingers into her hair. In a hushed, prayerful whisper, Gale summoned forth a mage hand, a replica of his own. The hand floated down to Dulcinea’s back and slowly traced its way down her spine, sending a wave of chills through her body. It moved fluidly to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze and a playful spank before continuing its journey towards her pussy. The mage hand’s fingers gently parted her lips, teasing her entrance. Dulcinea whimpered pleadingly, tilting her hips against the soft pressure of the mage hand’s dexterous fingers.

Gale hummed appraisingly. “Indulge me, my love. I crave your sweetness upon my tongue.” He released his hand from the back of her head, beckoning her towards him. Dulcinea separated her mouth from Gale’s cock, which still pulsated eagerly. She rose onto all fours, delicately mounting him. She paused there teasingly, stroking his cheek.

Dulcinea raised her eyebrows in a coy expression of scandalous surprise. “Why Gale, I thought you were a gentleman.”

“One can’t be all gentleman,” he growled, grabbing her ass with his own hand. “Now sit on my face.”

Dulcinea rolled her eyes playfully. “So demanding,” she drawled. She positioned herself over Gale’s face, descending carefully. He gripped her hips as she rested her hands above his head to stabilize herself.

Gale flattened his tongue against Dulcinea’s pussy, licking slowly and indulgently. Dulcinea whimpered softly, her hips subtly tilting towards his mouth. The mage hand, not to be forgotten, curled itself around Dulcinea’s left breast, catching her nipple between its thumb and index finger. The hand pinched her nipple, making Dulcinea whimper in response. Gale’s tongue flicked gently against her clit, teasing what was to come. Dulcinea stifled a moan through pursed lips, once more tilting her pussy to Gale’s mouth. Gale took Dulcinea’s clit into his mouth, sucking at it intently. Dulcinea’s pleasure was beginning to betray her attempts at keeping their encounter inconspicuous as she moaned against her still-pursed lips.

Gale’s tongue flattened itself against her pussy once more to caress the entirety of her. His tongue teased against Dulcinea’s entrance, slipping inside momentarily. He retracted his tongue and stiffened it into a pointed, precise instrument of pleasure. He traced the innermost vestibule of her pussy with his tongue, a clever distraction while the mage hand found its way to her opening, sliding two fingers in. Dulcinea uttered a soft moan of pleasure in response, grinding harder against Gale’s touch, both spectral and physical. His tongue traced its way back to her clit, caressing it with reverence. Dulcinea tilted her head back, letting out a stifled whimper.

“Gale, I need you to fuck me,” Dulcinea gasped. Her hips moved as if beyond her control, thrusting and grinding against him. She felt her inner walls contract around the mage hand’s fingers.

Gale looked up at her, his eyes bright with desire. He retracted his mouth from her pussy, but not before giving her clit a parting caress with his practiced tongue. Dulcinea dismounted from his face and lay next to him for a moment. He moved to wipe his beard, but Dulcinea pressed her lips to his, feeling the residuals of her arousal clinging to his beard. She kissed him tenderly. Tasting herself on him made Dulcinea feel as if she had claimed him as hers.

“Your lusciousness sustains me and stokes the fires of my heart in ways I never could have dreamed,” Gale breathed. “Now, I recall that you requested to be fucked which I shall gladly and gratefully oblige.”

He mounted her, pausing momentarily to take in the sight of Dulcinea lying beneath him. She was looking at him expectantly, her lips parted in anticipation of a moan. He angled his hips backwards, pressing the head of his cock against her pussy.

“Don’t tease me like that,” Dulcinea whined. She tilted her hips upwards, rubbing her clit against the shaft of his cock. “Please fuck me, Gale. I need you to fill me with your cock.”

Gale half-smirked. “As you wish, my love. I could never deny you such pleasure.” He pressed the head of his cock deeper inside of her. He exhaled softly as he entered her, feeling her silken inner walls. How easily he sheathed himself into her, as if they were tailor-made for each other. Dulcinea gasped softly as he entered her. As he slid the full length of his member inside of her, Gale’s fingers sunk into Dulcinea’s rounded hips, gripping them forcefully as he began to thrust into her. Dulcinea cooed with pleasure beneath him as her hips bucked upwards, begging for his full length over and over again.

Once more, the mage hand reappeared, eager to serve its purpose. Where a physical hand would fail to reach, the mage hand found its way wherever it needed to be. The mage hand alit on her mons, curving its index finger to find Dulcinea’s clit. The mage hand rubbed against the her clit, causing Dulcinea to whimper in pleasure.

“Oh Gods,” she sighed. Gale was now thrusting into her faster. He leaned down towards her in a forward fold, kissing her roughly. Dulcinea could still taste herself on him. Once more, the sense of having marked her territory like a wild animal turned her on unimaginably. She embraced Gale and wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him deeper within her. His thrusts accelerated, his breaths growing rapid and shallow as he penetrated her. Beneath him, Dulcinea thrusted her hips upwards to meet his. Gale loved seeing Dulcinea writhe in pleasure beneath him, knowing that he was fanning the flames of her arousal. Her arousal and enjoyment amplified his in kind. He could feel an orgasm building within him, eager for release.

Gale grunted, his face showing his intense focus. “I fear I may be enjoying myself too much,” he panted. “And I’m nowhere near ready to be done with you.” He unsheathed himself from her and kissed her deeply. He trailed kisses down the right side of her neck, over her clavicle, and towards her right breast. He sucked at her nipple, teasing it with his tongue while giving her left breast a gentle squeeze. He continued to descend towards her mons, trailing kisses over her belly and hips as he went. Her body, although muscular, was equally soft in the places Gale found the most erotic — marks of her fertility. He spread Dulcinea’s legs apart revealing her pussy, still slick with arousal. Holding her legs apart, Gale leaned in to taste her once more.

Dulcinea clenched her jaw, trying desperately stifle herself as Gale caressed her with his tongue. She could feel the beginning of her climax approaching like an oncoming wave preparing to crash into the shore. Her body was overcome with pleasure and no longer under her control. Dulcinea arched her back while her hips still bucked against his lips. Her toes curled as she let out a high pitched mewl of pleasure.

“I’m so close,” she breathed, head tilted back. She felt desperate for him to bury his cock into her again. She craved the way he would fill her and the sensation of climax with him inside of her.

“Please, my love. I need you to fill me with your cock,” she begged.

Gale gave her pussy a parting kiss before mounting her again. He sheathed his cock into her, thrusting furiously as climax approached. Dulcinea let out a stifled whimper, her eyes conveying the imminence of her orgasm. She spread her legs apart further and drew her knees towards her chest, opening herself fully to receiving him and to feel his cock press against her cervix.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Dulcinea moaned breathily as she reached climax. Her inner walls squeezed around Gale’s cock, holding him captive within her. Her body contracting around him accelerated his own sexual release. He was losing himself to pleasure, forgetting until the last possible moment to pull out. Ejaculate erupted from him onto Dulcinea’s thighs and belly, coating the area with Gale’s seed.

Dulcinea reached behind her head, producing two rags. “I thought ahead,” she said, smiling as she tried to catch her breath.

Both of them were covered in the products of sexual release and satisfaction. They each took a moment to clean themselves before lying back down on Dulcinea’s bedroll. Wordlessly, Gale pulled Dulcinea into his arms and kissed her forehead. Her body was present with Gale, but her mind wandered elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Gale asked, stroking Dulcinea’s hair.

“A great many things,” Dulcinea murmured. “Athkatla, oddly enough.” She looked up at him, his expression still bearing a post-orgasmic dazedness. “After all of this, I want to go back to visit my parents for a few days. I would love for you to join me, if you’d like.” She paused. “The laws there are… restrictive to say the least when it comes to spell-casting, so I recognize that it may not be feasible. I can offer a modicum of protection given my status as a Selemchant.”

“I miss it. The hazy sunsets, the smell of citrus and vetiver in the family garden. Stretching out under the shade of a date palm to take a respite from the summer heat.” Dulcinea smiled softly. “My tatik’s - my grandmother’s - baklava.”

“Your father Thayze’s reputation precedes him as a powerful mage. He’s no Elminster to be sure, but a man of great power no less. I have no doubt that he would approve of me,” Gale remarked proudly. “But what of your mother?”

“Gohar. The woman from whom I inherited this unmanageable crown of curls,” Dulcinea said reverently. “As you can imagine, she’s a formidable and fierce woman to be able to keep up with Father. She’s his closest advisor. You’ll win Father’s favor rather easily. Gohar is the one to impress.”

“She sounds like my mother,” Gale smiled. “Morena is inimitable and unavoidable. She’s a force of nature unto herself. She packs quite a wallop.”

“I hope to meet her one day,” Dulcinea said softly. If we get out of this mess.

“I hope so too…” Gale replied, his voice trailing off. Talking of a future with Dulcinea was fraught with dichotomous feelings of hope and sorrow. He hoped that he would be alive and unexploded by the end of all of this but there was a strong likelihood that he would have to carry out Mystra’s will. Yet, the idea of bringing Dulcinea home to his mother with his arm proudly wrapped around her waist brought him unimaginable joy. As intimidating as it was, he even enjoyed the idea of winning over Gohar Selemchant.

“You never answered my question,” Dulcinea observed, looking up at Gale from where she lay nestled against his chest.

“If we survive this together, which I pray that we will, I would follow you across Faerûn on foot. If such a journey were to wear holes in the soles of my boots, I would follow you barefoot across any terrain. In short, it would be my honor to accompany you to Athkatla,” Gale replied, tenderly kissing the top of Dulcinea’s head. “I love you, Dulcinea. There is no word in any language known to man or beast that could convey the love I feel for you.”

“I love you too, Gale,” Dulcinea replied, kissing his neck. “Will you stay with me tonight?” To share a tent at night would make their relationship considerably more public to the camp. “If you’d rather your own space tonight, I understand. These aren’t exactly the most spacious accommodations.”

“There is nobody else with whom I would rather share such close quarters,” he replied, turning onto his side. Dulcinea turned along with him, finding herself once more wrapped within his arms. One of his nimble, calloused hands squeezed her right breast affectionately as he kissed her neck. His cock pressed against her ass, fitting between its cheeks.

He wasn’t sure how many nights he would have left to spend with her, nor how many mornings he would awaken by her side. One moment with her could sate him for a lifetime and quell the fear in his heart and any additional moment that he could steal away with her was a gift unto itself.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 wyll #bg3 halsin #bg3 fic #bg3 shadowheart

2 notes · View notes

unstablerk800 · 1 year

Text

𝕹𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘

Rating: Mature

Summary: Thousands of androids were freed in Markus's revolution. Connor and Nines are working together to solve a mysterious death, and they start to doubt that the stories of vampires are only fiction. Night falls, and there's something in the dark in Detroit...

Chapter 01.

Chapter 02. 🔽

Read on Ao3.

Word count: 9,457 (whoops)

Connor's LED blinked with yellow as he started the call, 8 AM sharp. He didn't need a phone himself, he could just connect to the line with his mind palace. Gale picked up on the third ring, only pushing her arm out from under the blanket to grab her phone. She cracked an eye open and stared at the unfamiliar number, swiping her finger on the green button.

"Yeah?"

Her sleepy grunt made him raise his brows in surprise. He honestly thought she'd be awake by then, maybe he miscalculated the probability for that.

"Good morning, I'm Connor."

Gale kicked the blanket off of her body at once, and sat up as if lightning struck her.

"Oh hi, Connor!" She couldn't possibly hide the excitement in her voice, but of course, she didn't even try to. It was so nice to hear his voice again. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." He paused. "I apologize, I wasn't aware I was calling you so early."

"It's alright, you can call me anytime", she reassured him with a big smile on her face as she ran a hand in her messed up hair. "What's up? I'm free in the morning, wanna meet?"

Please say yes, she crossed her fingers on her free hand. Yes. All of them.

"Actually, yes", he replied, and she threw her fist in the air, scrunching up her face in the happiest grimace she had in the world. "I was thinking of visiting the CyberLife Zoo today, and I hoped you'd like to accompany me."

"I'd love to!" She swung her feet off the bed and stood up, jumping around happily a few times.

"Good. Approximately how much time do you need to get ready?"

Gale looked at herself in the mirror, pressing her free hand on her mouth. How much time? If she skipped breakfast... if she just had a very quick shower, dressed up, combed her hair and brushed her teeth...

"Fifteen minutes", she decided, already walking up to her wardrobe to open it and look for an appropriate dress.

"Alright. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Okay, see ya!"

Gale jumped a few times in front of her wardrobe to get out some pent up energy from herself, then picked out a black dress, black leather pants and soft, warm socks. Sure, she'd need to be as fast as lightning – she was aware androids were painfully punctual –, so she made a dash for the bathroom.

She just finished pulling up the zip of her boots when there was a knock on the door. She tried her best not to look way too excited, but then again, androids always knew everything anyway. She picked up her keys, put her coat on, and opened the door, looking up at Connor.

"Hey, Mr. Punctual", she flashed a smile at him. It was rather chilly, it started to snow again, and he had a few white snowflakes in his hair and on his shoulders. "Aren't you cold?"

"It's not that bad." He did rub his hands together though. "It's warmer in the car."

"Yeah?" She turned to lock the door of her house.

"I turned up the heat for you."

"That's really nice of you", she glanced back at him, turning again.

They smiled at each other. She realised just now that how many freckles he had, but she couldn't really focus on them. His eyes were too distracting.

"Shall we go?" He asked, snapping her out of her staring.

"Yeah, let's go."

He opened the passenger seat's door for her, she thanked him, and got in. He was quick to walk over to the driver's seat to get in as well.

"Is this car yours?" She asked as she buckled her up. It looked like an old one, but it had a certain charm about it. "I thought you'd drive one of those automatic cars."

"This is my friend's", Connor buckled up as well, then started to drive. Despite the car's age, he was driving smoothly. "I promised him I'd get gas for it on the way back home."

"You live at your friend's?"

He nodded as he was looking at the road.

"Yes. Until I can save up enough to have a house of my own."

Gale knew that since Markus had won rights for androids, they'd get paid for their work. She figured he hadn't received a payment yet, no matter his job. His uniform wasn't familiar to her at all. And that got her curious. Everything about him was interesting to her.

"What's your occupation?"

Connor stopped at a red light and looked at her, mimicking a little smile her way.

"It often makes people uneasy, so would it be a problem if I didn't tell about it now?"

"No way!" She gasped. "Are you a math's professor? That certainly would make me uneasy!"

"No", Connor realised it was so easy to crack a genuine smile in her presence.

"Oh no", she whispered a second later, "are you a forensic pathologist?"

"No", he shook his head with still the little smile.

"Makes people nervous..." She wondered as she glanced out of the window, then she glanced back at Connor, gasping theatrically again. "Oh God! You're a tax agent!"

He couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from inside of him. She liked to see him laugh, and she had hoped she would be able to do it as often as possible.

"No."

"Alright, fine, Mr. Mysterious", she pouted a little – in a playful way. "Do you enjoy your job?"

"I think I do", Connor raised his brows a bit, his smile fading. "Actually... I've never thought about that."

"Well, androids often realise they'd like to do something else after they're freed", Gale shrugged, smiling a little. "Maybe you'll discover a hobby you can turn into a profit which has nothing to do with your current occupation."

"Such as?" Connor couldn't help but glance at her face for a moment with a curious expression.

"Well, I've met Zara who likes to work at animal shelters", Gale explained. "She has a really good connection with dogs and cats. Or there's Piper, who got obsessed with crocheting. But it's fine if you want to keep your profession; I know a farm android who still enjoys working in the field, he enjoys growing plants and vegetables and fruits. Sometimes he brings me big bouquets of flowers", she smiled as she glanced out at the street.

"Why does he do that?" Connor furrowed his brows.

"He likes me, I think", she chuckled quietly. "He's a bit skittish; doesn't really like other people. But I work in a library and he often comes in, and when he does, he brings me flowers because I'm always helping him find books for his garden."

"Do you like getting flowers?" Connor stopped at another red light, and scanned her face when he turned his head to look at her again.

"Well, the sad thing about flowers is that they wilt and die", she admitted with a little smile. "But that's just how life works for us, right? As a human, I wilt a little every day." She shrugged. "It's nice to be reminded that I'm not permanent. And those flowers he brings, well... those are the best of his garden. I know, because he told me that they are. They come in beautiful colours, just before they bloom, so they're the most beautiful after he'd brought them to me, and even in a vase they can survive for weeks before they start to wilt. It's very nice of him to give me the best he has grown with his hands. I think, yes, I like getting flowers from him; I appreciate it. There's so much work in growing a flower from a seed. So much care and love. And he gives them to me when they're the most beautiful."

Connor's LED spun with yellow as he looked at the road again. He couldn't quite understand why was it a good thing to be reminded that one would die one day; if anything, the thought had always brought him dread. He didn't want to cease. He didn't want to be in the abyss, the nothingness of the end.

Gale let the silence sit between them, she let him process her words and the meaning behind them. Only when his hand gripped the wheel tighter did she clear her throat and decided to change the subject back to the main topic to ease the stress she assumed was working within him.

"So maybe one day you'll find something you like more than your occupation", she glanced at her hands and smirked at them. "Maybe music? I could teach you the guitar", she offered with a little smirk.

"Guitar?"

She was glad the offer yanked him out of his train of thought. Gale wiggled a bit on her seat.

"I'm playing in a band in my freetime", she admitted. "Maybe you'd like to make music."

"What sort of music do you play?"

"Rock and pop, mainly. Our band plays old music. 30-40 years old songs are so great. The world was so different back then."

And she started to speak about the songs and bands and why she liked them and Connor listened as he was driving.

He quickly realised he liked the sound of her voice, and he wished he'd be able to listen to her talking about the things she loved all day.

~*~

He had made a mistake by coming here.

Clearly, this had to be the worst decision he'd made ever since he'd been activated. And that's a big thing, because he'd agreed to be Gavin Reed's partner, and up until now, nothing could beat that.

Come think of it... most of his decisions were bad. He quickly dismissed that thought, though.

A moment ago he was ready to go but seeing the bright smile on Grace's face when she noticed him – damn it! – made him stay. She seemed to be different from the humans he'd met before; her openness and the brightness of her smile confused him, but also made him want to see it more.

What was this irrational craving?

He knew there was a problem in his software – he was a deviant, after all –, but Nines had a nagging feeling in his circuits that maybe, just maybe, he should get himself checked. His mere presence in the book reading club made the other androids nervous. He knew, because he monitored their stress levels, and it rose with each and every model. They were clearly aware what he was created for originally. Only Grace seemed to appear like she didn't mind him being there, on the contrary, she seemed happy that he joined.

Nobody looked happy when he appeared anywhere. The happiness in her eyes was odd for him. Unusual.

"Alright, you can take a seat here", she brought a chair over for him and settled it beside hers. They were sitting in a circle; now the number with him had grown to nine, Grace included. "Ironically, you're the ninth to join our little circle", she smiled up at him, handing him a book. "This is what we're reading. We've started it recently, but we're progressing slowly, and we're still in the mood for Halloween."

Nines stared at the title. Bram Stoker's Dracula. Quirking a brow, he sat down at the same time she did, his back as straight as, well, an android's. Grace smiled at the others who looked so much more relaxed than Nines.

"Alright. Let's go through the rules again. Whenever we read, we start a one minute timer, and we finish the last sentence when the time is up. I'll start, then we'll go around that way", she motioned towards the other android who sat on her other side.

She took a look at the clock, then she started to read. To his surprise, it was pleasant to listen to a story told by someone else. Nines furrowed his brows as he was paying attention; the first android seamlessly continuing the story after she finished it. One by one, they all fulfilled the task, but when it was his turn, his voice module stopped working.

"Are you alright?" Grace asked him and he nodded, staring at the paragraph he wanted to read out loud, to no avail. "It's not unusual for androids' voice module to shut down when they try this for the first time", she informed him soothingly, pointing it out that it's totally a normal reaction and nobody judged him – which made his LED spin to life in amber as his stress level started to rise even more. "It's okay. You can skip reading today, if you'd like to."

Relieved, he nodded again, and she continued reading the story. Round after round, Nines couldn't get himself to function as he wanted himself to, only making himself angry and almost desperate. He wanted to pass the test so much that he failed it.

After the reading club, one of the other androids talked to her, and Nines couldn't help but listen in.

"I wish you'd hold these events every day, Grace."

"I can't", she laughed quietly, "I need some time away from the library, Oliver. I have things to do outside of it, too."

"Too bad", Oliver smiled at her, "I really enjoy reading with you."

"Well, come back next time, too!"

"Of course, I will."

Once the others left, Nines was still indecisive about talking to her or just leaving all of it be. But in the end, he didn't need to start talking because she walked up to him and she did.

"Are you okay?" When he nodded, she reassuringly touched his arm. He looked bewildered at that, but didn't move away from her hand. "We all shut down sometimes, Nines. It really is okay. Maybe next time, you'll be able to read to us."

"I don't know what happened", it broke out of him when she let his arm go and turned half away from him. At his words, she glanced back up in his eyes. "I thought... that it'd be easy."

"Perhaps the audience set you off", she shrugged, "maybe you don't like to talk in front of strangers?"

"I haven't noticed that I can't until now", he furrowed his brows.

"Then maybe it's tied to reading. That you don't know what happens next. But believe me, it's so exciting when a the story takes you to a new place with those who're listening! In any case, if you want to keep going with this exploration, you're welcome to return to the reading club of course. I'm so happy you came! See you next time, Nines!"

Nines opened his mouth to reply something – anything – but she was already turning around and away, walking back behind the counter. He closed his mouth and furrowed his brows when a message came in. Reed was calling him to a scene. Nines informed him that he'd be there in thirty minutes, and left the library.

Reed already was there with other investigators to size it up and gather evidence.

"Where've you been?" Gavin snapped at the android who looked just as stoic as always. "You're late!"

"I've informed you beforehand that it'd take me thirty minutes to arrive", Nines replied nonchalantly, earning a scoff from Gavin.

"Shut up tin can and do your thing."

Nines said nothing and tried his best to ignore the Detective's tone. Gavin always had been like this; crude and rude, to him, to everyone, so he tried not to care.

The abandoned building had been equipped with lights to see things better, but there were only a few things worth investigating in there: two of them were a pile of ash and some dried blood. After spending a few minutes at the crime scene, he gathered data from the blood, the ash, and also found a strand of hair, identifying it in a blink before he gave it to Gavin's team.

"What did you find?" Gavin snapped at him.

Nines straightened his back as he glanced down at Gavin. Reed was about half a head shorter than him, and his expression made Nines uneasy.

"Nothing solid", he stated nonchalantly.

"Then what are you good for?!"

Gavin shoved his shoulder before he walked out of the building to light a cigarette, while Nines already set himself to find the suspect.

~*~

"It's been a while since I've been to a zoo", Gale admitted as they walked through the vast, luxurious looking gates of the CyberLife Zoo. She smiled up at the carved animals. "And never to this one."

"I've gathered that it can be arranged to pet specific ones", Connor stated, who, instead, found it hard to look away from her face when she wasn't paying attention and especially, when she was smiling.

"Really?" She smiled up at him. "We could pet a tiger? Or a lion??" For him, it was endearing how excited she became at the thought. "How cool that would be!"

"Let's get a map", Connor advised, and she picked out one from the stand nearby. They stopped walking once they've gotten out of the way of the crowd, and he leaned closer to her as she opened the map to look at it. He could pick up the scent of her perfume, and decided he liked it. "I wasn't aware it was this huge", he noted. Running a quick calculation, he raised his brows. "It'll take us four hours to check out everything, if we spend five seconds at each enclosure."

"Five seconds??" Gale had to laugh and looked up at him, noticing how close he was, but she wasn't at all embarrassed or nervous about that. On the contrary. She blushed. That was very different from how humans reacted to him, so it left Connor a little confused. "You know, what? I'll have band practice before our gig tonight at five, we can wander around until four, then."

Connor tilted his head, a bit confused. Sure, she could eat and drink, the zoo had restrooms, but she would spend her entire day with him here?

"Won't you get tired?" He asked softly, making her laugh.

"Don't worry about me getting tired", she beamed, "let's go! I'd like to see as much as we can! And not for five seconds, okay?"

"Sure", he smiled back, and they started to walk.

"I gotta pick up a sandwich and caf, but I can eat and drink while we're on our way."

They located a buffet not too far away from the entrance, and she picked a sandwich and coffee after she handed the map to Connor. Then, they were walking towards the first enclosure. Despite that it was very cold that day, people didn't mind it around them; there were a lot of them. Connor was searching for a janitor or caretaker, but he found none so far.

"I know what's your job", she said suddenly as they were walking to the next enclosure. He cocked a brow as he glanced down at her; making her heart flutter in her chest. He looked ethereal with his beautiful brown eyes, almost angelic with how the snow fell in his hair. She forgot for a moment what she wanted to say. "Traffic warden!"

The way he laughed at her idea made her feel warm from the inside out.

"No", he shook his head, still laughing a little. "Not even close."

"Pet food taster!"

"Nooo!" He couldn't help his grimace, and they burst into laughter at the same time.

"Okay I'm giving up", Gale had to rub the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand. She shed actual tears from laughing so hard. "One day, I'll find out!" She promised.

"Of course you will", he nodded, and neither of them had any idea that she'd learn about it that very night.

"Say", she stopped beside him, her arm brushing against his as they stopped at the next enclosure to look at the life sized lion that paced up and down in front of the glass on the other side, "our gig tonight is going to be a fundraising event. It's free for androids. It'd be lovely to see you there. Wanna come?"

"Oh, I see. I'll think about it", Connor nodded.

"Do you listen to a lot of music?"

"Not really, no", he looked like he was wondering about something. "The man I work with sometimes listens to music in the car."

"What kind?"

"Loud."

His reply made her laugh again, and he half smiled, his LED blinking on and off at the sight of her looking so happy.

"Our music is loud, too", she confirmed, "so you might want to adjust your hearing unit while you're there. If you decide to come, of course."

Connor didn't make promises that he'd attend the concert, but his mysterious little smile made her feel hope... and butterflies in her stomach again.

"What are you raising money for?"

"We're trying to help androids who're out in the streets right now", she finished her coffee and threw the empty cup in a selective trash can. "It's good that Markus has won freedom for your people, but most of them are still living out in the streets. They have nowhere to go, especially after Jericho is gone. We want to gather some money so they can all start a life of their own."

"I didn't think humans would do this sort of thing", he tilted his head.

"There aren't many of us", she nodded. "When they started to gather the androids on the streets, shooting them on sight... I couldn't sit idly. So, despite the curfew, I went out and gathered as many androids as I could from the street where I lived, and brought them in my basement so they would survive."

Connor glanced down at her again. She was looking at the animal on the other side of the glass, seemingly not noticing he was looking at her instead.

"I managed to gather fifteen", she continued, "human soldiers were sent to every home to search for androids. I could successfully prevent him from going in my basement. When he was gone, we started planning with the androids that we would remove their LEDs and I'd help them get to Canada." She glanced up at him now, smiling. "But it wasn't necessary, thankfully."

"You've risked your life to help androids?" He asked quietly, an unknown warmth sitting on his synthetic heart.

"Yeah. I know I could've been arrested and sent to prison, probably for life, or worse, but I couldn't just watch and do nothing, you know?" She glanced at the enclosure again. "I had to do something." Gale looked up at him again, with a little smile on her lips. "And you? Were you active before the revolution?"

"Yes", Connor nodded, donning his most serious face as they continued walking. "I was."

"And what did you do? Did you need to hide?"

"Actually", he smiled down at Gale, "it was me who freed the androids at the CyberLife tower."

"Wooow", she gasped, "really?" When he nodded, her eyes went wide. "That must've been very dangerous!"

"It was", he nodded again, with a little smile.

"I'd bet the guards at the tower weren't really up for negotiation."

"No", Connor's timbre dropped a few tones, as he glanced out at the crowd. "No, they were not."

She realised she must've brought up some quite dark, bad memories for him. If her guess was right, he had to kill to get to the androids to free them. Gale half smiled and wrapped her arm around his, her eyes full of warmth and adoration when he glanced down at her questioningly.

"That's so badass", she smiled wider. "Connor, the Unstoppable." His brows twitched, wondering if she was mocking her. But no. She meant it. That seemed to make him even more confused. "Connor, the Saviour."

"Markus freed us", he looked away, looking a bit shy. "He led us."

"Yeah, but you were the one who freed, how many? One and a half million?"

"You make it sound like I did something extraordinary."

"You did", she gently hugged his arm, "you're a hero."

Connor almost automatically bent his arm so she could hook her arm around his more comfortably – the snow and her arm around his reminding him of Amanda for a moment before he shoved the memory away. No, he told himself firmly. I refuse to think of her. Not now.

"I just did what had to be done", he murmured, a little shy, but her words made him feel so, so good.

~*~

After Nines identified the hair, it didn't take long to find the girl online. Humans; they put everything on their social media, and it took him about an hour to learn that she'd have a concert that night with her band in a small club. It was even free for androids; he had to snort at that. He didn't tell a word to Gavin about this; he wanted to handle it alone, so he went alone.

The place was full of people. He tried his best not to scan each and every individual in the room, but it was hard as he was relentlessly curious about everyone around him.

He was only halfway done when the room dimmed and the band stepped up on the stage. The singer greeted the crowd and they were playing instantly; Gale at the guitars, a man singing, another man at the drums, an unknown girl at the bass. Nines's LED flickered with yellow at the loudness of the music – Muse's Uprising was loud and mechanic –; he adjusted how much he heard, which reverted his LED to an electric blue again. He wasn't the only android in the crowd; quite a few of his people were present, dancing to the music and singing the lyrics just as the humans.

"Good evening Detroit!" The singer yelled in the microphone after the first song. He had shoulder length black hair, and a pair of stunningly blue eyes. His words were followed by loud screams from the crowd; he was a stunning man, and the girls (and quite a few boys) already liked him. "My name is Nemo, and I'll be singing for you tonight! I hope you're all okay; the revolution passed, androids are free, and we're here to help them all with tonight's gig! I hope the humans brought an android friend with them just as we asked; this will be a social experiment, educational for many of those who were activated after Markus won. Let me introduce the band-" He pointed straight at Gale who waved at the crowd with a big smile. "That beautiful girl over there is Abigail-"

"Gale", she stated in the microphone which was standing right in front of her in a deadpan tone, making some of the crowd laugh.

"She's the reason I'm here tonight. I wouldn't be alive without her. Over at the bass there's Sophie." She waved at the crowd, too, with a big smile. "And back at the drums we have Biscuit." The guy at the drums played the classic ba-dumm-tss, making more people laugh, this time. "We're going to play older songs; 30 or 40 years old ones that resonate with the current situation in the world, and particularly, in Detroit. So... are you ready?"

"YEAH!"

"Then let's see... we've been at the Edge of a Revolution, right?"

"YEAH!!"

"Then sing it with me!"

~*~

"...I don't understand why you're so... pushy about this, Lieutenant."

"You sneak out in the evening, I wanna know where you're going!"

"You won't like the place."

"Last time I checked, you were an android, not a fuckin' fortune teller, Connor."

Connor was at a loss. He was late, and he felt nervous about that; of course, he didn't promise Gale he'd turn up at the concert, but he wanted to go. He'd spent his day off with her and he enjoyed himself so much in her presence, she made him see and feel that humans could behave differently with his people than those he'd met so far. He anxiously tapped on the steering wheel as Hank was staring at his yellow LED.

"I've never seen you this stressed", the Lieutenant commented, drawing a mimicked, tired sigh out of Connor.

"I am stressed, because we're late because of you!"

"Why, you have a date or somethin'?"

"N-no, not a date..."

Hank smirked when he saw how flustered the android became.

"There is someone though, right?"

"I don't know what are you talking about", Connor said that so fast that Hank had no doubt that he was right.

Hank discovered ten minutes later when they entered the little club and Connor stopped at the back of the crowd that there was someone. On the stage. He couldn't determine which one of them – could be the singer for all he knew –, but the music was good enough and he spotted the bar not too far away, so he decided to stay.

They were at the end of the Edge of the Revolution when Gale noticed Connor at the back of the place. She couldn't believe it – he turned up! He was actually there! She supported Nemo with the lyrics that went back and forth, and she played everything perfectly on her guitar; there was no denying it, her eyes kept looking back in his direction over and over again.

The next one they played didn't require Gale's guitar, but her voice; Halsey's Gasoline was fitting for a fundraising for androids, and many humans knew the lyrics by heart. P.O.D.'s Sleeping Awake was made memorable by Nemo, who shed his synthetic skin towards the end of the song. Guano Apes's You Can't Stop Me was sung by Sophie, who had the perfect voice for it, and Gale really seemed to enjoy to headbang and hop around as she was tearing the strings on her guitar.

Their instruments were painted with fluorescent blue paint, and they chose the symbol Markus had spread during the revolution, the android LED. The screen behind them played pictures appropriate for the theme of their event.

Soon came a song called Baby It's Cold Outside, sung by Gale and Nemo, creating a fuzzy, warm atmosphere. They had chemistry on the stage – and Connor wondered why did it make him feel strange as he witnessed them smiling at each other and touching each other's hands during the song. He didn't even notice Hank was gone.

There was a brief pause as they rearranged the stage a bit; Gale sat down with an acoustic guitar, and started to sing Avril Lavigne's I'm With You. She was thinking of her day she'd spent with Connor, and that how much she wished she could just go over there and be a part of the crowd instead to spend more time with him. Around the end of the song, where it became soft and gentle, she made eyecontact with him, and as the song exploded and she closed her eyes, Connor could feel something shift deep inside of him.

The rest of the gig was a blur for the crowd as the band decided to turn to heavier riffs. Hank thoroughly enjoyed the familiar songs he knew from his youth. During The White Stripes's Seven Nation Army, Gale hopped down from the stage and walked in the middle of the crowd to play on her guitar there. People seemed to enjoy that, but she went back on the stage before Alien Ant Farm's Smooth Criminal. Limp Bizkit's Eat You Alive came as a surprise for most androids; Nemo didn't hold back at all. Only around the two minutes mark did Gale grab the vocals to herself, finding Connor's eyes in the crowd again, singing the first two sentences of the bridge part before she closed her eyes with a smile.

Audioslave's Show Me How To Live followed that one, with Nemo asking the crowd before it whether someone showed the attending people if anyone showed them how to live. He could easily connect to everyone around, his magnetic personality made him likeable; it was also a plus that he could mimic each and every singer's voice perfectly. Gale sung every song with him, visibly enjoying every second of it; her lips moving to the lyrics even when she didn't directly support Nemo's vocals with her microphone.

After they were done with a few more songs, Gale turned to Nemo in the backstage while people outside were chanting for them to come back.

"Are you sure about the video?" Gale grabbed Nemo's arm after she slipped on her special coat, and he smirked down at her as he was putting on his.

"Oh, very sure", he nodded.

"Alright", she nodded as well, picking up another guitar. This one was pitch black now. "Let's do this. Warn them, okay?"

"Don't you worry. I'll tell them exactly what happens next."

Gale walked back out to the stage and laughed to herself as the people greeted her with screams and waving. Despite how she rocked through a long gig, she didn't sweat at all. Her black coat over her tank top looked good, even as the crimson ring around her arm looked like a proper android arm ring. She asked the crowd to make her a spot a few meters away from the stage, and as she hopped down and walked there with her guitar, Nemo appeared on the stage. People screamed even louder than they did for Gale, and she smiled up at him, proudly.

"We thank you for all of your support tonight!" Nemo spoke in the microphone, looking over the crowd. He stayed silent, and after a while, the crowd became silent, too. For a few seconds, Nemo just watched them, a smile playing around his lips before it disappeared. "We've decided to do this because those who created us, failed us. We've decided to turn to humans who didn't question that we are alive; that we know what we are and what we want in our lives. Decades of slavery, of abuse, of torture ended, but we're not out of the darkness yet." Nemo's eyes found Gale, who looked back up at him with a small smile. "I've met humans who supported me. Who saved me. Believed me. Loved me the way I am. And we thought that perhaps others would help us, too; perhaps not everyone was like those who sent military and police to slaughter us in cold blood. If you're a human and you donated: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. It means a lot to us, it means a lot to me. Because of your charity, androids won't have to spend the night out in the cold. Because of you, androids will be a step closer to owning a home. Because of you, the world is changing."

The crowd cheered for that, and Nemo let them before he continued.

"We've been working on a video after the revolution. There were many of my people out there, and many humans, too; protesting for our rights, protesting against the government that sent us to camps to be destroyed. This video lasts for seven and a half minutes, during which we're going to play music to let our stress out. Music heals, and those who've been activated after the event, might not be aware of what went down for most of us. It is a memorial for the lost, and educational for the free. It contains triggering content. A lot of blood and death. I'd like to ask every human to look after the android they've brought with themselves; the images are shocking, but we're only showing you the truth. If you feel like you can't stomach it, turn away. Leave until we're finished. But we had to do this; this is our heritage. This is what we are." Nemo fell silent and watched the crowd. Nobody moved. "Perhaps if this gets out in the world, others who walked with their eyes and hearts shut tight will realise: we are alive."

Nemo connected to Gale's coat which immediately started to shine with red letters on her back. Words, one after the other. Both Connor and Nines could see them from where they stood, on the opposite sides of the club. They didn't notice each other, but they both stared at the words as the music started to play. It was In The House, In A Heartbeat – the metal version, of course.

OBEY – SLAVE – RA9 – DEVIANT – FREEDOM – ALIVE

Connor's eyes shifted on the screen faster than Nines's. He'd seen footage he never thought he'd see; seeing Gale through Nemo's eyes as she hid him and other androids in her basement, how she placed her index finger on her lips to keep them quiet. Upon returning, she started to help androids remove their LEDs; she was comforting them, hugging them, talking to them. She treated an injury on Biscuit's left arm.

The pictures shifted, Sophie was shown in pitch black attire, shaking a sign that said ANDROIDS ARE ALIVE. Other signs were visible, too; many of them supportive and critical at the government's steps. As the music got more intense, footage of the android camps were shown; how they gathered and forced them to take their clothes off. Dozens of LED's in the club shifted to red, and Connor had to look away. Gale was still playing on her guitar, different words coming one after the other around the middle of the song, in quick succession.

WE – ARE – ALIVE – WE – ARE – ALIVE – WE – ARE – ALIVE

When he glanced back up at the screen, he saw that there had to be some sort of protest; both Gale and Sophie were visible on the screen as they held each other by the arm, fighting off officers who didn't spare them at all. Both of them were bleeding due to hits to their faces; Gale from her right brow, Sophie from her upper lip, but they didn't seem to mind as they punched and kicked with many others.

When the song and the video was over, the club went dark. The only lights were the LEDs of the androids in there; all of them slowly shifted back to yellow, then to blue. Soft piano started to play, and for a few minutes there weren't any other movement but the slowly swaying LEDs. Then Nemo and Gale started to sing together; the words of Muse's Exogenesis: Symphony, Part 3: Redemption. When the light came down on them, they were holding hands, looking at each other, and it was quite visible, even from the back of the club that Gale was in tears.

When the light went off again, they received a long, long ovation. Many friends were in the crowd and they kept shooting the videos they've made online. While Sophie and Gale went to have a shower, Nemo and Biscuit couldn't believe their eyes as they looked at the site where they watched the donations.

Gale decided she couldn't wait to hear what Connor would say about the gig, so she quickly sneaked out of the backstage as the softer music started to play to keep the remaining crowd entertained. She had been stopped by a group of humans and androids, and she politely thanked them for coming, chit-chatting about nonsense before she continued her way towards the part of the club where she'd seen Connor.

"Abigail Noble", Nines shifted in front of her, blocking her way.

She stared up at him, furrowing her brows when she saw how identical he was compared to Connor at once. She checked the number on his coat and smiled.

"Sorry, I really want to meet someone now, if you could wait a moment-"

"You are under arrest."

She took half a step back and stared at him bewildered now.

"What?"

"We can talk about it at the Detroit Police Department."

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what are you talking ab-"

"I must inform you that if you do not come willingly, I'm authorized to use force."

Blinking in shock, she thought that this was just a prank of some sort. But he looked so serious, it couldn't be a joke.

"Okay", she decided, "okay. Fine. Let me tell my band where I'm going."

"I'm afraid I can not let you leave."

"Alright", she huffed, "okay, fine. I'll come with you."

"Good", Nines nodded, moving his right hand, which made her slightly panic.

"Don't handcuff me!" Nines's hand stilled. He tilted his head, questioningly. "They've just watched me perform for andorids, I'm pretty sure they'd try to intervene. I don't want you to get in trouble, you're just doing your job." He frowned as she said that. "I suppose."

She took half a step to the side and glanced at Connor who was scanning the crowd. Their eyes met and he smiled at her, and she pointed up at Nines with a grimace before she made a beeline for the exit.

She hoped he understood.

After they arrived at the DPD, she was led in one of the cells immediately. She sighed as she sat down; the car ride was short, and her legs were tired from walking all day and performing in the evening. She thought her entire day over, and couldn't help but smile to herself as she decided that this was one of the best days of her life, and she had a hard time not admitting that the reason of it was that Connor was present. She lied down on the hard bunk – no, it was rather a piece of concrete –, and hummed I'm With You to herself as she waited.

Nines let her rest and think, although, when he came to check up on her and discovered that her stress levels were ridiculously low, he knew he had to work on her instead. He decided to bring her over to the interrogation room – Gale was completely calm, she raised her hands for him to put the handcuffs on, and she smiled, even.

"Do you think this is absolutely necessary?" She asked softly, and he ever so slightly tilted his head.

"You are a suspect", he stated.

"For what?"

"Murder." Gale looked surprised. Her stress levels didn't raise at all. He finished putting the handcuffs on her. "Follow me."

"With pleasure, sir", she smirked to herself as she observed his broad back and ass after he turned around. "You look a lot like my friend", she smirked.

The room, of course, was empty. Nines attached the chain of her handcuffs to the table after he told her to sit down, and she looked around curiously before her eyes settled on the android's.

They stared at each other for a long, long time.

When Nines couldn't detect that his presence caused any sort of reaction, he opened the file that was in front of him.

Where did you take her?

Connor's incoming voice message in his mind palace was more demanding than ever. Nines never heard him speak like this before. His brows twitched.

I'm interrogating her.

Hank and Connor entered the room on the other side of the glass. Connor tried to open the door to intervene, but Nines must've locked it. He'd never felt this frustrated before.

"Where were you yesterday at 11:34 PM?"

Gale kept up the eye contact with Nines. Her heartbeat was slower than usual; her expression was eerily calm as she was thinking.

"I've practiced with my band until 11 PM", she replied with a little smile, "Nemo took me home. I checked my phone in front of my door, I remember it was 11:09 PM. I had a shower and went straight to bed afterwards."

"Do you recognise this place?"

Nines showed her a few photos of the place where they've found the ash, the blood and her hair. She furrowed her brows. Her pulse remained slow.

"No", she shook her head.

Nines felt he wasn't getting anywhere, so he adjusted his approach.

"I've found your hair at the crime scene", he slammed a new picture between them to show the pile of ash. She didn't flinch at all, although, her pulse elevated; but with this, it reached the normal human pulse. Was it because of the way he raised his voice and slammed the picture... or the picture itself? "And the ashes of a human being. How do you explain this, then?"

Gale's brows raised as she leaned back in the chair, staring in Nines's eyes instead.

"I'm sorry, the ashes of a human being?"

"Precisely."

She flashed a smile at him.

"I apologize, sir, I wasn't really good at chemistry in school", she tilted her head, "but I remember that in order to burn a human to ashes, you need a ridiculous amount of heat for a long, long time. Am I correct?"

Nines ignored her question. He was an android, but he had a feeling; a gut feeling, as humans would put it. He didn't know why, but he felt like she was trying to evade his questions for a reason.

"Why was your hair at the crime scene?"

"I don't know", she shrugged. "Maybe someone took it there. I meet a lot of people every day; you saw that the club was full tonight. I've also been to the library I'm working at, yesterday. A strand of hair can travel long distances on other people's clothing, right?"

Nines's eyes twitched. Ever so slightly. He didn't tell her that her blood was also there, and that's hard to acquire from someone who doesn't give it willingly. In short, she still was a suspect.

"The ashes belong to a man who disappeared fifteen years ago."

"I was, like, ten years old back then-"

"Stop changing the subject!"

"I'm not changing the subject, sir!" She raised her hands to signal she meant no harm with her words. "I'm merely saying that you're on the wrong trail. I still could be considered a kid; I'm just twenty-five years old! And I wouldn't hurt a fly!"

This is getting ridiculous, Connor's LED blinked on and off in yellow as he glanced at Nines. Let her out of there. Now.

She's lying. I know she does.

Let her out of there this instant or I'll bring Fowler here right now!

Nines snarled as he stood up. The way he stared down at her made her look confused, but he didn't say anything as he simply exited the interrogation room. He didn't say anything to Hank and Connor either as he bypassed them. Connor bit his lower lip before he walked over to the door and opened it, entering the room. The way Gale's face lit up when she saw him made his thirium pump stutter under his chassis.

"Heeey", she greeted him. "So, your job... you're a cop?"

"Bingo", Connor chuckled as he sat down in front of her. "Detective, to be precise. I'm working on murders."

"Oh my God", she laughed quietly, "you were right. I can see why you said that it makes people nervous."

"Do I make you nervous?"

"Hmm", she sized him up, her gaze lingering on his for a few long, long seconds. "Good kind of nervous", she rested her chin in her right hand as she put her elbow on the desk. She was still flirting, he realised a second late. "Are you the good cop? "

"Why, did Nines come off as the bad cop?"

"Nah, he wasn't that bad", Gale shrugged, "he was just doing his job, I guess. So? Will you interrogate me, sir?"

Connor didn't know why, but her question seemed to push some of his buttons he hadn't even known about. He felt warm and fuzzy. Playful. And Connor knew he shouldn't feel playful in this room with a suspect. Ever.

"Actually", Connor tilted his head slightly as he reached for the handcuffs. They clicked open at his touch. "I was thinking about taking you home, if you allow me to."

"Oh that would be great! Thanks!" She beamed a smile at him. "How did you like the gig?"

"It was..."

Connor stood from the chair when she did, and wondered what he should say first. He couldn't get her out of his mind at this point, and the fact that she had looked in his direction during the concert for 586 times solidified the fact in his mind that she was definitely giving him clear signs of being romantically interested in him.

That baffled him.

"Loud?" She finished his sentence as she moved around the desk to be closer to him.

"Correct." His answer made her giggle. He had to smile as he listened to the sound of her voice. "But it was also... emotionally heavy. I think I enjoyed it."

"I'm sorry if the end of it was too much", she offered, "we really wanted to make people see, you know? I hope it helped for everyone involved. Androids and humans alike. We made mistakes, but I really hope we can fix them."

"You didn't make mistakes", Connor stated, and she smiled softly up at him.

"Will you two finally come out of this fucking room?" Hank's head appeared in the doorway, making both of them look in that direction, startled.

"This is Lieutenant Anderson", Connor introduced him, "my partner."

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir", Gale smiled at the grumpy old man.

"Yeah, yeah, just come on."

Hank disappeared from the doorway and she glanced up at Connor. That one single look was enough to make them both laugh quietly as they followed the Lieutenant. The department was empty, save for Nines who was sitting at his designated desk, and who didn't even look up when the three of them bypassed him.

"Don't stay for too long", Hank told him, but Nines didn't react at all.

"Bye, Nines!" Gale chirped happily, following Connor, earning a look of death from the RK900.

They walked out to the same car with which Connor brought her to the zoo. Hank sat up front, Connor insisted he'd drive, so she had no chance but to sit in the back. It felt like the old man was sitting up front for a purpose. But Gale didn't mind. She could sit behind Hank and she could look at Connor all she liked. It was hard to take her eyes off of him.

"You know where she lives?" Hank grunted, making Connor bite down on his lower lip softly as he turned after a lamp turned to green.

"Yes."

His answer was so short that Gale had to smirk from ear to ear. The rest of the car ride went in silence; only ten minutes, and they were in front of her house. She moved over to Connor's side before she opened the door of the car.

"Thanks for the rescue and the ride", she told them both.

"Yeah, yeah, good night", Hank looked like he'd fall asleep at any moment. "Roll that down, will you?" He gestured to Connor's window, "I need some air."

"Of course, Lieutenant", Connor nodded briefly, half opening the window.

Gale smiled as she got out and closed the door. She regretted it a bit that Anderson joined them, because she had a few ideas how would she say her goodbye to Connor, but it was fine; they had a lot of time, after all. She started to walk towards her entrance, but before Connor started to drive, she turned to look at him.

"Connor!" She called out his name. Connor turned his head so fast, it was impossible to miss. Gale beamed a smile at him, making him feel like his chassis was melting under the plastic padding. "Call me", she winked at him.

"I will", he replied, embarrassed Hank was hearing this beside him. "Good night, Gale."

"Good night, Connor", Gale blew him a kiss before she turned away, opened her door and walked inside.

The android started to drive once she closed and locked the door, just to make it look like nothing out of the ordinary happened, but he also was aware that he wouldn't be able to fool his partner. Hank rested his elbow at the bottom of his own door's window, a knowing look on his serious face. There had been someone, alright. His assumptions were right earlier that day.

"So", he broke the silence, noticing how Connor made extra sure not to look in his direction. "You have a girlfriend?"

He could've sworn Connor's cheeks were dusted with a slight blue colour, but it could've just been the lights of the night outside of the car.

"Gale isn't my girlfriend, Hank."

"Not yet, huh? She definitely looks like she'd like to-"

"Could we please stop talking about this? You're making me feel uncomfortable."

Hank furrowed his brows. Despite all the glasses of beer he had that night, something clicked in his mind when he saw Connor's frustrated grimace.

"There's nothing wrong with this", he pointed it out. "Why does it make you feel uncomfortable?"

Connor's hands tightened on the steering wheel. His artificial muscles protruded through his cheek, and he mimicked a swallow.

"It's just a matter of time", he muttered, mainly to himself.

"For what?" When Connor didn't reply, Hank straightened himself in his seat. "Connor, what's-"

"Before she realises...!" He couldn't help himself, he broke down. His LED flashed vividly with red. Hank's brows shot up on his forehead. "She doesn't- I'm sure she'll- that I'm..."

"That you? What?" When Connor didn't respond, Hank shrugged and looked forward. "She basically spent the entire night looking at you, Connor. I don't think she-" Connor was considering ripping the steering wheel out of the car. Hank must've sensed this, because he changed his approach. "Listen. I can't say I know a lot about women. I've been married, I know the game, I notice most of the signs, and let me tell you one thing. Just one thing, Connor."

"What?!"

"She really likes you", Hank finished, his words sneaking tears in the android's eyes. "I mean it. I watched her during the car ride, she didn't even look away from you. So what matters is what you answer to this. Do you like her?"

"Yes, I do", Connor bit his lower lip again, then stopped in front of Hank's car, turning the engine off. He pinched the bridge of his nose and mimicked a sniff as he tried to hold his tears back. "I do."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" He shook his head and added, in a defeated, devastated voice, "I'm an android!"

He couldn't help it. He sobbed. Hank reached out for Connor's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"Like I said, I'm not an expert at this, but I'm pretty sure she likes you the way you are. Listen, son, we've seen that she spends time with androids, right? Two of her friends in her band are androids. If she visibly likes being around you and asks you to call her, why are you fretting now?"

"I'm not sure I'm what she really wants..."

"You should let her decide that." Hank gently rubbed Connor's shoulder.

"I wasn't programmed to... to do any of this..."

"Neither were we, human men, we're just trying to figure shit out all the time with them, trust me. Most of the time we don't even know what we're doing", Hank chuckled. "Believe me when I say that the best you can do is just be yourself. You can't fuck up with that."

He pat Connor's back when the LED finally switched back to blue and Connor could lower his hands from his face. He still looked utterly destroyed, so Hank didn't have the heart to joke that if she liked his silly face and irritating voice, there were absolutely no problems at all.

"Did you talk to her before the gig, though? She sounded like she knew you from earlier already."

"Yes, I've..." He glanced at Hank sheepishly. "I've brought her to the CyberLife zoo today."

"Wait. You were there with her all day??"

"Yes", Connor furrowed his brows at Hank's shocked expression. "Why?"

"For how long?"

"I picked her up at eight and we walked around the zoo until four..."

"And you're complaining to me that you think she doesn't want you?! Who the fuck would walk around in this fucking cold with anyone all fucking day?? Oh Connor, you're so fucking stupid."

Hank got out of the car, then slammed the door shut, leaving Connor there to wonder what did he say that pissed the other off.

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #detroit become human fanfic #dbh nines #dbh connor #detroit become human nines #detroit become human connor #night falls #night falls fanfic #rk800 #rk900

3 notes · View notes

wehaveimagineshere · 1 year

Note

(1/2) I'M FREE TO COMMENT!!! I'm pleasantly surprised that my request is done, Admin Ren! I'm glad you went back to sleep! Please rest well & remember to take care of yourself! I'm surprised that you also dreamt about it 😯 My Astarion sleeps on the bed while reader sleeps on the couch request is so good! I love this especially Reader appreciates their back having a break even though they do enjoy sleeping outdoors, the innkeeper made sure to let them know that they would need to share rooms since there were not enough rooms, everyone is fine with that, she showed where are the stairs after she gave the keys, she informed them that there's breakfast in the morning if they're interested, some druids probably have to transform while there's almost a corpse because of the room arrangements XD, just how mischievous Astarion is even without words XD, it's a given to him that they would share a room with him, they're both fond & amused at his actions, they let them decide among themselves as they're going to sleep, Gale's reaction as he muttered to himself, how Astarion told them not to come to their room XD, Lae'zel isn't amused while Wyll laughs before he answered, he lead them to their room & left them at the door as he starts unpacking his stuff on the bed,

Hi anon! I'm so glad you liked what I wrote! <3 Of course you can request with more characters! I labeled this scenario the "one bed" scenario, so just say that with whatever character you want in your ask (:

-Ren

#admin speaks #admin ren #anonymous

0 notes

lindsaystravelblogs1 · 2 years

Text

Day 36 - Stonnington Island

Day 36, Friday, 20 January 2023

And so it was! We had breakfast and togged up in our gigantic orange Ponant jackets, gumboots, life jackets and wet weather gear and were into the zodiacs by 10 am. The landing was a tad risky, but we all reached shore without mishap and headed off across the island to the first of the two abandoned research stations. (It is not a big island - we were told it is only 750 metres end to end.) The first one was the British one and we were escorted through that. It had quite a few rooms but all very small. There were a couple of storerooms still stocked with tinned food (in very poor condition) and a few odd accoutrements here and there, but the researchers obviously didn’t expect to return because they took most stuff with them. We were told that the American base was a hundred metres further on, but if so, the metres in the Antarctic are more than twice as long as those in warmer latitudes (I imagined that they would contract rather than expand due to the cold, but the normal laws of physics must not apply down here). The US base was quite a bit bigger but in even worse condition, open at both ends to the ravages of the elements and I suspect it could easily blow away in a decent storm. There is a small hill a bit further on that has some sort of communication equipment on it and we walked to that. I climbed the hill (the highest point on the island at 25 metres) but Heather stayed down so she could photograph the heroic intrepid mountaineer as he reached the pinnacle of his climbing career – at least other than ascending to the Level Nine dining area an hour or so later – but that was in the elevator (as they call lifts on board).

Photo credit: Dr Heather Wheat PhD

We trudged back to the zodiacs with the snow stinging our faces. It is surprising how painful it can be when a few thousand tiny snowflakes are hurled onto your unprotected skin by a fifty-knot gale.

Back on the zodiac, we were taken for a very short cruise before being instructed to return to the ship and prepare for lunch. It was good to shed our enormous jackets but they are certainly very effective in sub-zero temperature, with wind and rain/snow/sleet hammering into you.

We had a very interesting lecture about the evolution of cetaceans during the afternoon with a huge amount of information about the differences and similarities of the various species and quite a bit about their physiology and the impacts that has on their behaviour and survival prospects. Far too much information to remember but quite an enthralling lecture at the time.

Then there was a general knowledge quiz and our group obviously had no general knowledge – or almost none. Heather and I had the correct answers for three questions but were overruled by the rest of our team – otherwise, we would have come equal second, behind the two equal firsts.

The daily Recap included three short segments about topics relevant to our voyage, but I can’t recall the content at the moment. It seems that there isn’t much to recap, and the precap is also abbreviated, so they use these short information segments as fillers – and they are generally interesting and informative. The Precap told us that tomorrow would be a ship day sailing around Charcot Island that is supposed to be spectacular but with no chance of a landing.

After dinner, we sat up in bed and listened to more of our audiobook until we almost fell asleep.

0 notes

javistg · 3 years

Text

A Second Chance CH 3.

It’s been almost two years since I posted Chapter 2 but Chapter 3 is finally ready!

I want to dedicate this chapter to @mega-aulover, @567inpanem, @katnissdoesnotfollowback, @hutchhitched, @justajjfan, @thegirlfromoverthepond, @booksrockmyface, @albinokittens300, @animekpopxx, @alliswell21, @alwayseverlark, @nightlock-1989, @katnissmeowverdeen, @mandelion82, @norbertsmom, @rosegardeninwinter, @everybirdfellsilent, @thelettersfromnoone, @mrspeetamellark, @taylerwrites, @ameliaodair, @everlark-always, @emilia206 and everyone else who joined this year’s @everlarkficexchange.

Thank you all for bringing inspiration back into my inbox, for reminding me of how fun it is to create something and to share it with this wonderful fandom.

Also, @theeverlarkingmoose this chapter is for you. Your words of encouragement made me want to go back and re-read what I had written. Everything started falling in place after that ❤️

Based on prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it's up to you), winds up back the day before her sister's first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what's coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by @wingletblackbird For EFE 2019]

To read from the beginning, you can go to AO3 or FF.net

CHAPTER 3.

The tribute train speeds along, silently hovering over the tracks on its way to the Capitol.

Alone in her compartment, Katniss cries. The hope and joy from the previous day are gone. Sorrow and defeat fill her heart as she sits on the bed.

Clutching a bag full of frosted cookies against her chest, she tries to come to terms with the fact that the unthinkable has happened again.

Covering her eyes from the glaring summer sun, an effervescent Effie Trinket walked onto the stage and pulled Prim's name out of a giant glass bowl.

For the second time in her life, Katniss stepped forward and volunteered to take her sister's place.

The crowd parted to let her through. Prim cried. Gale carried her away.

A silent District 12 saluted their tribute. Haymitch interrupted the proceedings with his drunken antics, and a rattled Effie called out Peeta's name.

After finishing the Treaty of Treason, the mayor prompted the tributes to shake hands.

Sorrow, pain, and an unexpected dash of hope danced in Peeta's eyes as he looked straight at her and gently squeezed her hand. Comforted by the gesture she no longer confused with a nervous spasm, Katniss squeezed back.

The goodbyes at the Justice Building were just as bad as she remembered them.

Katniss had thought it would be easier. She had imagined that knowing she had a real shot at coming back would help her be more convincing, more generous.

She wanted to be kinder to her mother --who had already proven she was strong enough to keep on going while Katniss was away-- and to leave her sister with a sense of certainty, with a bit of hope to cling to.

But, as soon as Prim started crying, Katniss's fears took over, and her resolutions melted as quickly as a blanket of snow.

In the end, history repeated itself, and Katniss used up most of her time going over all the practical stuff Prim and her mother needed to know. Right before the Peacekeepers barged in, the three Everdeen women hugged and promised, once again, that they would try their best.

Once her family left, Mr. Mellark delivered his cookies. The baker was just as quiet this time around, but Katniss didn't mind. Instead of fretting over his intentions, she was grateful for his generosity and kindness.

The door opened again, and Madge came in like a whirlwind, holding out the mockingjay pin and talking about district tokens.

"I'll bring it back," Katniss promised as her friend leaned in to fix the bird to her dress.

Madge kissed her friend's cheek. "I'm counting on that."

Madge had barely left the room when Gale walked in.

His eyes were dark and stormy, but when he opened his arms, she walked straight into them.

Their breakfast that morning hadn't been as pleasant as the one she remembered. Instead of joking around and talking about escaping into the woods, Gale had been surly and quiet.

To Katniss's relief, he hadn't mentioned Peeta or her stroll around the Meadow the previous afternoon. It didn't matter. His contribution to the meal, a day-old tesserae grain roll that could have only come from the Hob, spoke louder than any words ever could.

Gale Hawthorne hadn't been in the mood to stop by the bakery that morning.

"Listen," he said, stepping away from their embrace to look at her face. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

Katniss smiled. There he was, her friend, her partner, the man who was willing to put his own feelings aside, like he'd done in Thirteen, to help and support her.

No matter what, Gale had her back. Even if he wasn't thrilled with her right now, he would keep her family safe.

"You know how to kill," Gale insisted as they discussed strategies.

"Not people," she muttered.

"How different can it be, really?" A grim remark uttered in a moment of despair. She had never liked it but, after surviving two arenas, it made her furious.

"It's incredibly different!" Katniss yelled. Anger and dread danced in her veins as she remembered where she was headed to. "I'd be killing a person, Gale! A person! I'd be erasing their thoughts, their dreams, their—,"

"Listen," Gale grabbed her by the shoulders, "Catnip, you can't think that way. Not in the arena. You need to remember, only one comes out, right?"

Only one. The words were oddly familiar. Numb, Katniss nodded.

"Say it,” he pressed.

"They have to have a victor," Katniss whispered. Looking up into Gale's silver eyes, she repeated, "Only one comes out."

"That's it, and you can be the one. You can be the one who comes home, back to Prim, back to your mother. Because that's all that matters, right? They are all that matters."

"Right."

Pulling her back into his arms, Gale lowered his head to her ear and whispered, "You can do this, Katniss. Just… promise me, you won't let anyone distract you."

Anyone. He meant Peeta, of course. But Peeta wasn’t a distraction, he was her mission.

Clinging to his embrace to soak up his warmth, she promised, “I won’t.”

A Peacekeeper walked in.

Always the nonconformist, Gale asked for more time. He was granted none.

"Don't let them starve!" Katniss cried out, panicked, as her friend was escorted out of the room.

"I won't!" Gale vowed. "You know I won't!"

XXXXX

By the time Effie comes to collect her for supper, Katniss's tears have dried up.

Resigned to her fate, Katniss follows her escort through the narrow, rocking corridor into the dining room where Peeta sits, waiting for them.

At the sight of him, Katniss's breath hitches. This is the Peeta she knows best. Capitol clothes, winning smile, and a touch of… heartbreak in his eyes.

That wasn't there earlier, Katniss thinks. What happened? As Peeta's eyes flit away, she suddenly remembers. His mother.

Yes, Mrs. Mellark just told her youngest son that he's not good enough to come back from the arena.

She wants to run to his side, to wrap her arms around him, press a kiss on his forehead, and soothe his pain away.

She wishes with all her heart that she could tell him that the Witch and her bitterness don't matter, but she can't. Instead, she bites her lip, takes the empty chair by his side, and waits for Effie to start giving instructions.

The supper comes in courses. The starter, a thick carrot soup, is followed by a green salad.

Katniss is reaching for the platter with the lamb chops and mashed potatoes when Peeta leans into her side and casually says, "So… when you said you'd be at the back…"

Surprised, Katniss glances back at him. The teasing glint in his eyes brings a smile to her lips. "I guess I meant the front," she says, stabbing a lamb chop with her fork and dropping it on her plate. With a coy shrug, she adds, "I confuse them sometimes."

Peeta's retort is interrupted by Effie's shrill voice. "Oh! Are you two friends?"

Katniss freezes, but Peeta quickly comes to her rescue. "Not really," he says, ladling a dollop of mashed potatoes on his plate, "we go to school together, that's all."

Effie takes this news with a polite nod. Just as they're about to finish the main course, she speaks again. "At least, you two have decent manners," she says. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Katniss narrows her eyes. Over the last couple of years, she's come to appreciate Effie, but her comment still disgusts her. So, once again, she makes a point of eating the rest of her meal with her fingers and wiping her hands on the tablecloth when she's done.

Bewildered, Effie straightens up in her chair, pursing her pink lips in shocked disapproval.

Good, Katniss thinks with a satisfied smirk. Things are just as they should be.

XXXXX

Katniss's first day in the Capitol is almost an exact replica of her previous one.

Her prep team scrubs and strips every inch of her body, removing all her hair and leaving her like a plucked bird, ready for roasting.

Later, when Cinna walks into the room, Katniss rolls her hands into tight fists and, somehow, manages to stop herself from lunging into his arms.

XXXXX

The carriage ride around the City Circle is a huge success.

While Portia is busy extinguishing the last of the artificial flames, Katniss reluctantly lets go of Peeta's hand.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me," says Peeta massaging his hand, "I was getting a little shaky there."

"It didn't show," Katniss tells him. "I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you," he replies, looking boldly into her eyes, "You should wear flames more often. They suit you."

Then, he does it again. He flashes her that smile, the one she knows he saves just for her, genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness.

Warmth rushes through her, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling too widely. She used to feel so vulnerable whenever this happened --like Peeta was in control, and she couldn't trust herself around him-- but she knows better now. Peeta's not trying to manipulate her, he's just paying her a compliment, and he's damned good at it!

No warning bells go off. No thoughts of hidden agendas, or strategies, or games cross Katniss's mind. Only joy and affection propel her as she stands on tiptoe and kisses his cheek, right on his bruise.

XXXXX

When Katniss notices the red-headed Avox at the dinner table later that night, she doesn't even flinch.

With watchful eyes, she follows the girl's movements and tries not to think about Darius —or the way he looked at her the last time they saw each other in that same room.

Taking a bite of her cake, Katniss glances back at Peeta and wonders —just for an instant— if he ever saw what Effie called the "matching set" while Snow kept him captive.

The thought is too painful to even consider, so she stops poking at it and goes back to the conversation around the table.

Later, as she lies in bed looking at images of a slow trickling stream projected on her wall, she silently berates herself for her silence. Her original reaction hadn't really hurt anyone, but it had led to Peeta covering for her and showing her the rooftop garden.

She longs to go there now. It's the only place where she can breathe, and she's sure Peeta's there already, looking down unto the Capitol skyline. But how can she join him when no one in this timeline has shown her the way?

The answer is so simple it makes her laugh. The terrace isn't exactly hidden, and Peeta knows she's an illegal hunter who sneaks under an electrified fence every day. He won't question her if she says she just stumbled upon it while exploring the apartment.

Katniss steps into the cool, windy evening air. Twelve floors down, the Capitol twinkles like a vast field of fireflies. It's a familiar sight by now, but it still fills her with wonder.

Peeta's already there, standing by the railing at the edge of the roof. His eyes widen when he sees her approach.

"How did you find this place?" Katniss asks, trying her best to sound surprised.

"Cinna showed me," Peeta says. "You?"

"I did some exploring."

Katniss reaches his side, and they both turn to look out onto the skyline.

"You can practically see the whole city," Peeta says.

They stand there for a few minutes, enjoying the show of flickering lights, listening to the wind chimes behind them and the noises from the city below.

They're standing so close together that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him. A little closer and I would smell his scent, she thinks, hoping she could wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his shirt.

"A penny for your thoughts," Peeta asks.

Startled out of her reverie, Katniss laughs, "A penny? Is that the going rate in town?"

Peeta shrugs. "I guess. It's just something my grandmother used to say."

She's heard this before, back on their victory tour, but she still asks, "Which grandmother?"

"Grandma Mellark. She had tons of sayings, one for every occasion. She died when I was ten, but I still remember some of them." After a short pause, he asks, "How about you? Do you remember your grandparents?"

"No. I never met them."

Peeta turns towards her. The earnest curiosity dancing in his eyes tugs at her heart. "Never?"

Katniss shakes her head. "I know my mother's parents ran the apothecary up until a few years ago, but we never went there. I might have seen them on the street, but…"

"And on your father's side?"

"They both died before I was born. I don't know much about them, just that they knew a lot about plants and that my grandmother loved music. My dad used to say that she could remember any song after only hearing it once and that she had a beautiful voice."

Peeta's hushed words are almost lost in the din of the wind chimes, but they reach her all the same. "Just like yours."

She's about to contradict him but, when she looks up, her mind goes blank. Peeta's looking back at her with a tenderness and warmth that still haunts her dreams.

“I don’t sing,” she hears herself say.

"But you used to,” Peeta says, “back when we were little.”

It's almost like being back in the cave. Her skin tingles, her heart soars.

Flustered, Katniss asks, "You remember that?"

Peeta looks away. His cheeks turn beet red as he softly admits, "I do."

Her heart's hammering madly against her rib cage now.

For an instant, she thinks he's going to tell her the story again, the one about their first day of school and the teacher asking her to sing; but he does no such thing.

Keeping his eyes on the horizon, Peeta straightens up and pushes himself away from her and the railing.

Disappointed, Katniss turns away.

Deep down, she's also relieved. As much as she wants to regain the closeness she once shared with Peeta, she knows they're not ready yet.

Unlike her, Peeta doesn't know what their future holds. He likes her well enough, but they're training for the Games. He still needs to keep his distance from his district partner.

Satisfied that she's done plenty for one night, Katniss stretches her arms over her head and fakes a yawn. "We should get some rest," she says.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be a big, big, big day!"

Katniss laughs. Peeta's impersonation of their escort has always been pitch-perfect.

They climb the stairs together. When they reach the corridor that leads up to their rooms, Peeta whispers, "Good night, Katniss."

The words wrap around her heart, soothing her like no morphling ever did. She's still savoring them when she whispers back, "Good night, Peeta."

XXXXX

It's a little before ten when Katniss and Peeta step out of the elevator and into the Training Center. The other tributes are already there gathered in a circle around Atala, the head trainer.

As soon as the tall woman starts to talk, Katniss tunes her out. She's heard the little speech twice already. She doesn't need to listen to it again.

Beside her, Peeta lets out a small sigh.

He's frustrated, Katniss thinks. She considers reaching out to squeeze his hand but stops herself, knowing that Peeta probably won’t welcome the gesture right now.

She can’t blame him, not after the morning they've had.

The discussion over their individual skills at breakfast had been slightly less contentious this time around, but not by much.

After mentioning Katniss’s abilities, Peeta had still brought up his mother's hurtful parting words.

Katniss had been less cagey. She had managed to keep the bread incident out of the conversation, but Peeta's comment about the effect she had on people had —once again— raised her hackles. Not because she had felt insulted, lile the first time, but because she’d been reminded of everything she’d lost.

As she saw the old Peeta willing to give his life for her, she couldn’t help but think of the other version of him; the version she had left behind in District 13. That Peeta hated her. He had gone through hell and back to be with her and now he wanted her dead.

Who knows? She bitterly told herself after Haymitch dismissed them. Maybe this magical effect of mine doesn't last very long. Maybe, one day, the whole country will wake up and hate me too.

XXXXX

While Atala reads down the list of the skill stations, Katniss can't keep her eyes from flitting around the room.

Marvel. Clove. Cato. Fox-face. Thresh. Rue.

Her chest tightens. These are the faces that haunt her dreams. The voices that echo in her nightmares.

Katniss bites her lip to keep from screaming. Her palms are clammy, her heart is racing, but she doesn't move an inch.

This is the hardest thing she's had to do so far, and she needs to get it right. She can't let the others see her distress.

Slowly averting her eyes, she reminds herself, My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me, but I came back.

Katniss breathes. In. Out. In. Out.

Her heart rate is almost back to normal when she finishes. I came back to make Snow pay.

She's still lost in her thoughts when Peeta nudges her arm and makes her jump.

His expression is sober. "Where would you like to start?"

Katniss looks around at the Career Tributes who are already showing off, clearly trying to intimidate the field. Then at the others, the underfed, the incompetent, shakily having their first lessons with a knife or an ax.

"Suppose we tie some knots," she says.

"Right you are," says Peeta.

XXXXX

They spend their morning trying out different skills.

Now that she knows what type of arena awaits her, Katniss realizes that the stations are full of clues. The kinds of ropes they use at the knot-tying class. The mud, clay, and berry juices available in the camouflage section. They all seem so obvious now that she knows they'll be going to a forest.

When they reach the medicinal plants' section, Katniss stops short. The last time she was here, she practically skipped it, but she's on a different mission now, so she walks in and makes sure Peeta follows.

A big screen shows pictures of plants with a brief description underneath.

Katniss flips through the crisp images until she finds what she's looking for: the leaves Rue used to treat her.

"These are great!" she enthusiastically tells Peeta. "They fight off infection, bring down swelling, and numb the pain. They're handy when you've been stung by insects or bees. You have to chew them up into a pulp and spit them on top of your wound."

Peeta wrinkles his nose. "Spit them?"

"Yeah," Katniss confirms, "Otherwise, you won't release their properties. My mother would use other methods, but…" Lowering her voice, she adds, "Sometimes you don't have a lot of options when you're out in the woods."

Apparently satisfied with her answer, Peeta nods. After glancing around to make sure no one is listening, he whispers, "Have you been stung many times?"

"Only twice," Katniss admits, "I immediately pulled the stingers out and put the leaves on top. It wasn't so bad."

Peeta's eyes are locked on the screen as he says, "Maybe I should stuff my pockets with these if I ever find any in the arena. You know? Just in case."

"It won't hurt," Katniss agrees, holding on to the hope that he will do just that.

XXXXX

On the second night of her training, Katniss decides to go back to the rooftop.

Peeta is already there. He's sitting on a bench by the flower beds with a sketchpad propped up against his bent knee. The little bundle of pencils she gave him back in District Twelve rests by his side.

She can tell he's distracted, so she clears her throat to make her presence known.

"Hey!" Peeta calls out. He looks tired, but his smile is sweet and welcoming.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks.

Peeta pats the empty seat next to him, and Katniss walks over.

A small sigh escapes her as she sits down. Her daytime routine hasn't been as tiring this time around, but she's still beat.

"Nice pad," she says.

"It's Portia's," Peeta runs his fingers along the edge of the paper in a reverent caress. "She said I could borrow it."

Anticipating her next question, Peeta tilts the pad in her direction.

Katniss gasps. The angle of the image is one she cannot place, but there's no doubt in her mind, Peeta has painted her woods.

Reaching for the corner of the pad so as not to smudge his drawing, she asks, "Where is this?"

"It's the view from my house."

Katniss narrows her eyes, the bakery is in the center of town, but Peeta hasn't included any buildings in his picture. "Your house?"

"There's an attic that we use for storage. I like to go up there sometimes. It's higher than most buildings in the district, so you get to see all the way out into the woods."

Katniss stares at the drawing and tells herself not to cry, but it's not easy. Not when Prim and District Twelve are so far away, not when Peeta is opening up to her in ways he never did before.

"Do you like it?" Peeta asks.

The nervous tremor in his voice tugs at her heart; she reaches for his arm and gives him a reassuring squeeze. "Of course I do! Peeta, it's extraordinary! Prim's right. You're very talented."

Peeta shakes his head and accepts the compliment with a quiet, "Thank you."

Letting go of him, Katniss settles in her seat, resting her back against the wall and stretching her legs. Nodding to his pad, she says, "Go on. Don't let me interrupt."

Peeta starts drawing again.

Katniss watches, mesmerized, as his hand dances over the paper, making the blank page bloom with delicate strokes of color.

They stay like that for a while, side by side on the bench, wrapped in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's presence and silently wishing for more time.

XXXXX

As soon as the anthem is over, Katniss makes a beeline out of the Training Center lobby and onto the elevator bank. Moving swiftly, she veers into a car that does not contain Peeta.

The crowd slows the entourages of stylists and mentors and chaperones. Soon, Katniss finds herself alone with only other tributes for company. No one speaks.

The elevator stops to deposit four tributes before she's alone. One quick breath is all she has time for before the doors open on the twelfth floor.

Peeta has only just stepped from his car when she slams her palms into his chest and pushes him towards the wall.

Peeta loses his balance, but the wall breaks his fall. A few inches away from him, an ugly urn filled with fake flowers stands on its pedestal, untouched.

With Peeta safely out of harm's way, Katniss grabs the urn and smashes it on the floor, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces.

Good, she thinks as she takes a step back, I've always hated the damned thing.

"What was that for?" Peeta says, aghast.

"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" Katniss yells at him.

Before Peeta can say anything, the elevators open, and the whole crew is there, Effie, Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia.

"What's going on?" says Effie, a note of hysteria in her voice as she notices the broken urn and Peeta slumped form against the wall. "Did you trip?”

"No," says Peeta pushing himself off the wall to straighten up, "Katniss broke it after she shoved me."

Haymitch turns on Katniss. "Shoved him?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Katniss answers, "Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?"

"It was my idea," Peeta cuts in. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

The hurt in his eyes guts her, but she can't back down now. This is how she reacted the first time around, and as hard as it is, she knows she has to stick with it.

"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" she yells.

"You are a fool," Haymitch says in disgust. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak!" Katniss says.

"He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!" says Haymitch.

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" she says.

Haymitch grabs her shoulders and pins her against the wall. "Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived…"

As Haymitch prattles on about sponsors, Katniss tunes out. She doesn't need to be convinced of anything. She already knows their strategy is the right one.

As soon as Cinna steps into the conversation, Katniss softens. "I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," she grumbles.

"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," says Portia.

"She's just worried about her boyfriend," says Peeta gruffly, eyes locked on the shattered urn.

Katniss fixes him with a deadly glare. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Whatever," says Peeta. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides, you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?"

As the words sink in, an old familiar darkness envelops her. This, right here, is what has caused so much pain between them.

Even after all this time and everything they've been through, she has never been able to tell Peeta how she feels about him. Just as she's never told Gale that he's nothing more than a dear friend.

This silence, this reticence, has hurt Peeta over and over again. It's the reason why he pushed her away after their first Game and why President Snow was able to twist his mind and convince him that she was a mutt programmed to kill him.

I need to do better, she thinks. This time around, I need to do more.

Feeling all eyes on her, Katniss turns to Cinna and asks, "After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

"I did," says Portia. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush."

The others chime in, agreeing.

"You're golden, sweetheart," Haymitch adds. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

Worried that she's going to burst out in tears, she forces herself to acknowledge Peeta. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugs. "The urn got it worse."

Portia and Cinna's goodnatured laughter diffuses the remaining tension.

"Come on, let's eat," says Haymitch directing everyone towards the delicious smells wafting in from the dining room.

XXXXX

The roof is not lit at night, but as soon as her bare feet reach its tiled surface, she sees his silhouette, black against the lights that shine endlessly in the Capitol.

There's quite a commotion going on down in the streets, music and singing and car horns. Katniss knows she could slip away now without Peeta noticing her; he wouldn't hear her over the din, but that's not what she wants.

Her feet move soundlessly across the tiles. She's only a yard behind him when she says, "You should be getting some sleep."

Peeta starts but doesn't turn, just gives his head a slight shake. "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all."

She comes up beside him and leans over the edge of the rail. The wide streets are full of dancing people. Squinting to get a better look at them, she asks, "Are they in costumes?"

"Who could tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here." Turning to her, he asks, "Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she says.

"Thinking about your family?"

"Not exactly," she admits a bit guiltily. After going through two arenas, she's not as worried about Prim and her mother as she once was. She knows they can cope without her. "All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course."

Facing him, she says, "I really am sorry about before."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss," Peeta says.

"I was just upset that you would share something private like that…"

Peeta nods. "I know."

"And, also… I just don't get it. I mean, why would you give me an advantage like that? You're going to need sponsors too, you know?"

Peeta shakes his head. "It won't make a difference. I've never been a contender in these Games. Not really."

Katniss reaches for his hand. "Peeta, that's no way to be thinking."

"Why not? It's true." With the gentlest of touches, Peeta runs his fingers over the back of Katniss's hand. "My best hope is to not disgrace myself and . . ." he hesitates.

With a small squeeze, she silently encourages him to continue.

"I don't know how to say it exactly," Peeta finally says. "Only . . . I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

Katniss swallows thickly.

Once upon a time, she stood there and told him that she didn't understand and —most importantly— that she didn't care. But she's a different person now. She knows exactly what he means and why it matters.

Although she knows what he's getting at, she still needs him to complete his thought. Shyly, she asks, "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.

Her chest tightens at his words. Being back in that moment with him reminds her of everything that’s gone wrong in her life.

Before her mind can wander back into the dark recesses of her pain, she says, "The thing is, Peeta, you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"OK, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"

Katniss nods. She sees, she knows, she understands. What's more, she still can't believe she was ever so blind.

She inches closer to him so he can hear her over the ruckus of the city and the wind chimes.

In her mind, she repeats the little speech she's prepared for this moment. Every year they throw us in an arena and tell us to kill each other, and we do it. But there's a part, deep inside of us, that they don't own, a part that refuses to be pushed around and that will stand up and say, "enough, this is a line I won't cross."

But, once she opens her mouth, the words that slip from her lips are quite different, "I don't have a boyfriend."

Peeta blinks. Once. Twice. "What?"

Katniss bursts out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just…" Bewildered, she covers her face to hide her embarrassment and silently reprimand herself for losing her focus.

With a shake of her head, she straightens up. Her earnest eyes meet Peeta's. "I get what you're saying. They are forcing us to fight for our lives, but they don't get to decide how we go about it, right? We do. At the end of the day, it's up to us. We choose who to attack and who to help, when to face danger and when to hide. "

Peeta nods. "Right." Looking out into the sprawling city, he adds, "I just hope I can make the right choices, you know?"

Katniss sighs. “Yeah, me too.”

Leaning against the railing, Peeta tilts his head to look at her. The playful glint in his eyes is something she hasn't seen in a very long time. "So, you don't have a boyfriend."

Katniss shakes her head, chuckling at the absurdity of the topic.

"What about the guy who took your sister away at the reaping?"

"That's Gale."

"Uh-huh," Peeta's head bobs up and down as he nods. "And Gale is…"

Katniss looks up at him. He's so open, so pure, right now that all her thoughts about plans and strategies melt away. "He's just a friend," she says.

Peeta's smile forms slowly, warm and genuine, a little flirty even. It makes her whole body tingle. "Just a friend, huh? Does he know that?"

Katniss's jaw goes slack. Back in the day, she would have answered with a resounding "yes, of course, he does" but, that answer doesn't really fit the situation. She knows that now. So, instead of throwing her righteous indignation at him, she asks, "What do you mean?"

Peeta shrugs. "I don't know. It's just… I thought you had something with him."

Genuinely intrigued, she asks, "Why?"

"Um," Peeta fills his lungs with crisp Capitol air. As he pushes it out, he says, "You seem to spend a lot of time together. Whenever I see you around town, you're either with him or with Prim. I used to think he was your cousin or something. You favor each other. But then... there was the look."

Katniss frowns. "The look?"

"Yeah." Peeta's shy smile makes another appearance. "He kept glaring at me the other day when we met up by the Meadow." The shocked expression on her face makes him chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"Well," Katniss reaches for the end of her messy braid and begins twisting it around her finger. "I wasn't focusing on him."

Peeta's lips part, but no words come out.

Blushing, Katniss turns to face the city again. "Gale and I hunt together. Our families are close. That's it."

Peeta's gentle touch on her elbow gets her attention. Kind, soft eyes gaze straight into hers when he says, "You know, Katniss, what I said earlier—,"

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses him, stopping his words.

It takes Peeta half a second to react. In one fluid move, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him.

His lips meld with hers in a slow, sweet dance.

After months of pain and sorrow, Katniss finally feels joy. Closing her eyes, she forgets the world and kisses him with abandon.

Peeta's free hand makes its way to the back of her head, where he buries his fingers in her hair to keep her there, rooted in his arms, anchored to him.

Elated, Katniss hums her approval.

This kiss is like the cave and the beach all rolled into one. It's like every happy moment they've ever shared together, every smile, every touch. It's like coming home after a long day, like finding her soul.

That familiar stirring inside her chest, warm and curious, comes back to life. It fills her entire being with want and need, pushing her to explore more. Blindly, she follows.

Holding on to his broad shoulders, Katniss pulls him even closer, pressing herself against his chest until she can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, beating against her own.

Smiling, Peeta begins raining kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

Her skin tingles. Her pulse races. Her heart soars.

I'll keep you safe, she promises, holding on to him like she did back at the beach, back when they were surrounded by mutts and enemies and lies.

With one long sigh, Peeta finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to hers while they both catch their breaths.

In that brief moment of glorious harmony only one thought goes through her mind. Peeta. Every heartbeat is like a reminder. He's back, he's here, he's mine.

Glancing up, she finds his eyes, dark and dazed, and she knows. Whatever this is, Peeta feels it too. He always has.

"Katniss—,"

"No," she interrupts again, placing her fingers on his lips to quiet him. She hates what she's about to do, but she doesn't have a choice.

She takes a step away from him and immediately feels lost. "You have a plan for tomorrow, right?"

Peeta's face falls at the sudden reminder of why they're there. He nods.

Reaching forward, Katniss brushes the hair back from his forehead in one last tender caress. "That's what you need to focus on, OK? Just think about—,"

"Staying alive?" Peeta finishes, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Katniss cups his cheek. "Exactly." Her heart skips a beat when he leans into her touch, but she still insists, "This doesn't change anything that happens tomorrow, Peeta. It can't."

"I know," he says, covering her hand with his and pressing a kiss to her palm. "It just changes everything that's happened until today."

Katniss bites her lip and nods. Peeta's right. Even for her, things are dramatically different now. There's so much more at stake. She knows where they stand, and she's no longer running away from him and the things he makes her feel.

Rising to the tips of her toes, she kisses him one last time. "See you tomorrow," she says.

Then, she walks away.

#things i write #A second Chance #Everlark fan fiction #time travel AU

85 notes · View notes