#is their back not aching from carrying the weight of being the world's best gm

[oxventurequotes]

johnny: i can't believe you're all forgetting that at night time space comes down to the ground in geth so you've all got personal oxygen supplies!

[warlock-enthusiast]

maybe we don't wanna stay the same

Yet another scene from DND (I had to alter it a bit, though)

(Nithys belongs to @feylen, Dráven belongs to @marriedkillianjones, Alessa belongs to @infragalaxia and Malcer is mine now, because our GM can’t do shit with him.)

nsfw

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.” Phedre bit the inside of her cheeks waiting for a response, but Nithys watched her tea getting colder in the passing moments. Thanking her for the kind words, yes, because politeness defined her every move, and yet, Nithys’ sadness seemed impalpable. Hidden so well and beneath layers upon layers of court education and years spent at the side of princesses and emperors.

Not unlike Alessa, with her temples and gods and loss, and yet rather different.

There weren’t enough flowers to cure such a thing.  

And she felt useless and stupid and a bit lost. She hated this town and how it poisoned everything.

Dráven sipped at his beer, watching his sister and Nithys and also Alessa, who sat at another table studying her book, lost in her own world. In their youth, Phedre had always known what was on her twin’s mind. The years of separation had changed them both and now, he appeared like a stranger from time to time.

Fiam’s face seemed exhausted when he came down the stairs, shadowed, he had to console Serenity after the news broke, hoping that maybe her best friend would bring her some peace of mind. How? Being forced into a marriage was gruesome and her disagreement could cost Serenity’s mother her life and the thought made her head ache. 

They couldn’t fight a whole Empire. Or two.

Even after a month of traveling together, Phedre found herself unable to speak with the heir of said Empire, though, or to exchange more than some hastily spoken words and plans. She stemmed from the woodlands and slept beneath the stars and not in silken sheets and knew nothing of the politics, which held their realm together. 

Dumb. So, so dumb.

And Phedre’s cheeks burned as Nithys left the table to talk to her. The beer had been strong and she loved the tingling numbness in her fingers and the way it quietened everything, lulled her into a fake kind of serenity.

Malcer watched her. 

Eyes golden and green in the dim lightning of the tavern. Almost like a forest. Maybe, … maybe he was her chance of feeling less and feeling more. To forget about everything for once. The broken faces of the women they’d found beneath the water, the cries and the fear in their eyes. Nithys and she had slept at their side, calmed them, tried to hold their hands during the nightmares, but nothing would ever make them whole again.

She’d changed during their travels, not much, but every day brought new challenges and they forced her to act and she still thought herself utterly useless in the presence of those former slaves. 

The bravery of the drunk let her voice sound confident. “Dráven?”

He raised his brows. “Hm?”

“I’m going to lie down for a bit. I don’t feel that well.” A lie. It rolled off her tongue so easily.

“Take care, nésa.” Dráven squeezed her hand and she saw the doubt in his eyes and how he thought about asking her what was going on. He didn’t.

Phedre rented a room for the first time in her life, handing over the coins. It still seemed so weird to exchange them for anything. She looked at Malcer and he followed her with his steps a bit too eager to appear casual.

The room was nothing special. A narrow thing with a bed and a nightstand. She lit the candles with a move of her hand, feeling the fire calling to her.

He came to stand at her side. “You sure about …” Malcer rubbed his neck. “This? Us.”

“Yes.”

She wasn’t. 

He was a druid, yes, but still a human man. Not aging as fast as the rest of his frail species, but aging nonetheless. And weighed down by the loss of his family. A hurt they shared, which had formed a bond between the two of them.

Phedre kissed him. It was easier than thinking and giving into her own nervousness.

Malcer even tasted like the forest. Sweet and of rain and sun. Leaves. Something earthen. His thumbs circled her jaw and she had to stand on tiptoes. She knew where this was going, where she wanted it to go. Phedre had never wasted a thought on desire. On this. But lately she dreamed. Thought about him, about Nithys, and she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and heart beating hard against the inside her chest.

Her knees hit the bed and she tugged at his clothing. They hadn’t bothered donning their armor in the morning and it was easier to just pull off shirts and trousers, boots, undergarments. It all fell to a wooden floor.

But Malcer’s hands shook, nervously fumbling with the bindings of his trousers and Phedre helped, equally nervous.

He breathed a sigh of relief and Phedre tried to look at his face, ignoring the broad shoulders, his chest and how the tattoos changed his golden skin. She knew about lying with another person, in general at least. This, though?Something different.

Phedre didn’t know what to do with her hands and her trembling legs and how to process from here. Naked and vulnerable and reminded of the imperfection of her body, the freckles on her shoulders, the narrowness of her frame, scars, the vines of her clan’s markings, how frail she must appear.

Malcer touched her chin, making her meet his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

No one had ever called her that and he lifted her up into his arms and carried her to bed. Phedre had to laugh then and he answered with a smile. It was getting easier. Slowly.

The bed creaked beneath them and it was too small to offer much comfort for two. The linen seemed scratchy but clean and she tried not to hit her head on the frame. Malcer was on top of her a second later, careful not to crush her beneath his weight. Phedre felt the heat of his skin and saw how dark his pupils had become. She’d seen him like this after a fight and after their first kiss.

Magic surrounded him. It smelled ancient.

She squirmed. “I have never. This is…”

Malcer furrowed his brow. “I can stop.”

“No. It’s alright.”

“Just tell me, if you’re not comfortable.” And he kissed her again. Her forehead and nose, her lips, her chin, following the line of her throat and chest. Phedre felt his hardness against her legs and couldn’t fathom how she could cause such desire. He seemed a flustered and yet far more confident in his movements and where to touch and kiss her. She watched the muscles of his back and in his arms.

And she suppressed a moan when he kissed her breasts, his lips around her nipples  Grabbing the sheets, she arched her back and closed her eyes. She found herself in her forest, save and not alone but with him. Warmth spread throughout her body and Malcer’s hands found her thighs. His thumbs circled her skin and he moved them between her legs.

He caught her moan with a kiss and she thought that she felt him smile against her mouth.

Phedre put her arms around his neck, forcing him closer and trapping his hand between them. She moved against him, trying to create friction. Her body needed more of whatever he was doing and her hips buckled. She bit Malcer’s shoulder, pressing her face against his body. With the thin walls, the Inn wasn’t made for screaming, nor were her friends. Her heart beat so fast and she felt numbness and bliss and lost her mind.

“Phedre.” Malcer didn’t mind her teeth in his flesh and his cheeks seemed flushed.

His mouth went to her throat, sucking her pulse, almost breaking her skin. 

Malcer’s fingers were wet and she blushed, as he touched her stomach and the small scar beside her navel. Phedre tried to even out her breaths, but nothing in her body listened to her commands. The sheets suddenly felt too rough, Malcer’s body too warm and the room too small. Was that really happening? Amidst the chaos and confusion and the terrible fate, which waited for them all?

“Still alright?” He whispered. “Yes.”

Malcer lifted her hips, waited for Phedre to voice her doubts and when she didn’t, he brought their bodies together. It hurt. Not much. Just a bit and he moved and she felt the heat again and any pain vanished. 

She pressed her knees against his hips and Malcer grunted her name. He seemed to like being restricted in his movements. 

Phedre lost the track of time and heard his voice near her ear, whispering unintelligible nothings. Maybe telling her stories of his home and himself, just trying to make her comfortable and loved. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this complete. 

Malcer’s hand stayed between them, rubbing against her with every thrust. This time, she couldn’t stiffle her moans. Phedre pushed her head deeper into the pillows and he licked her throat, moaning against her. She smelled the salt on his skin. 

His body jerked and then they kissed and stayed still. He was still inside her, not letting go of her body yet.

“You liked that?” Malcer’s voice sounded deeper than usual and a bit raw on the edges.

“Very.” It seemed stupid to blush, but Phedre lost against the heat in her face. Suddenly she was sleepy and exhausted and wanted nothing more than the crawl atop of him and find some rest. Malcer stroked her face and shoulders and put a chaste kiss on her mouth, before moving. Suddenly she felt cold and Phedre put her head on his chest to catch some warmth. Listening to his steady heartbeat was comforting and his tousled locks made him look vulnerable and young. He covered them with a blanket, because the room got cold quickly. They hadn’t thought about heating up the fireplace or using some coals.

Malcer kissed her hair and stroked her arm. “I think we have to leave soon.” 

They had to travel to the city of the Emperor, to save someone that she’d never seen or even heard of. But right now, she had this. And him.

Phedre followed the lines of his tattoos with her fingers and raised goosebumps on his skin. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Okay.”