#myvetal's potential... chef's kiss. if you ask me

[ruvviks]

it took me Several Tries to send this ask bc i forgor their names again. BUT 3 & 41 for artyom and sascha!!!

COMFORT FOOD [x] characters >> artyom mikhaylov (oc), callinan tain (oc), sascha kovalevsky (oc) context >> date unknown; the party is visiting myvetal in the west of scayrius, initially there to help out an old friend but now working for archmage marius jahal, whose true intentions have yet to reveal themselves total >> 1.2k words warnings >> food, paranoia

‘Artyom? We’re back!’

Lorelei’s warm voice echoed through the large entrance hall of the house the party had been calling home over the last few months. A much fancier place than any of them were used to– most of their visits to other towns ended with them seeking shelter in the nearest inn they could find or setting up camp in a nearby field– but it was a welcomed break from the leaky ceilings and creaky wooden floorboards they had grown used to ever since they had started traveling together.

Sascha took off his overcoat and tossed it over the back of a dining chair, smiling as he watched Berry and Teacup dart back outside to run around in the rain. It had been going for a while now; not out of the ordinary for the time of year, and he knew from his studies the fields surrounding town could easily turn into a marsh until the heavy precipitation period was over.

They were staying in Myvetal, the largest city in the west of Scayrius. With its cobbled roads, narrow alleyways and tall houses it was surprisingly similar to Zarevsk and Neryugrad back at home– save for some cultural aspects and the significant lack of steep hills and raised districts, that was. A densely populated center with shops and taverns scattered about, small marketplaces creating cozy neighborhoods within the central district and even at the edge of town, where their house could be found, it was still busy enough to feel like you were right in the middle of it.

But despite the similarities to his home country, Sascha did not like it there.

Perhaps it was the way people stared at him, whenever he was outside. He was familiar enough with it to not let it get to him on most days, but the feeling of eyes on his back burning holes through the back of his skull haunted him like the presence of his patron, a dark shadow hanging over him and unwillingly keeping him alert for danger that was not even there.

Or perhaps it was the business they had stumbled into by accident, the second they had arrived in town. Receiving jobs from an archmage of all possibilities– Marius Jahal, one of the most important men of town if not the whole country– without clear understanding why they had to do any of what he was asking from them in the first place.

Sascha did not trust the man. He trusted Lorelei and Vatha’s judgment, of course; and if they did not question Marius then neither should he, and generally speaking the jobs they’d done so far had gone well and he had no reason to believe they were unknowingly on the wrong side of a conflict.

It was mainly the mage’s interest in Artyom that bothered him. The way he tried to get closer to him, to get a look at his research– his offers to become Artyom’s mentor, to help him with his thesis. None of it sat right with Sascha at all, and while he did not have the best intuition in the world the bad feeling gnawing at him from within was enough to make the hairs on his arms stand up straight every time he thought a little too long about it.

‘Oh, you are all soaked. Weather that bad outside?’

Artyom’s voice dragged Sascha out of his thoughts and he looked up to see his partner stand in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the post with a crooked smile on his face. He waved him over and when Sascha got within reach he gently brushed some of the wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead out of his face and pressed a kiss on his temple.

He had stayed home that day. On Sascha’s request; Artyom had been studying the days away in Marius’ tower for the past week and had barely gotten any rest in between, and to take him along to exterminate a whole nest of ghouls holed up in one of the city’s warehouses would have been far from the brightest idea.

‘Everything went well here while we were away?’ Sascha asked, smiling softly as he allowed Artyom to wrap his arms around his waist and kiss the corner of his mouth.

‘I should be the one asking you that,’ was the answer, followed by another kiss on his cheek. ‘But yes, yes– all is well. No visitors, no trouble. I made dinner.’

‘Hmm– it smells lovely.’

‘Come on, of course it does. I made it.’

Artyom’s confidence had to be one of the most charming things about him to Sascha. And he was right, too– Artyom’s cooking was the best of all of them without a single doubt, and possibly the best food Sascha had ever eaten in his whole life.

‘What did you make?’ he asked, taking Artyom’s hand and allowing him to drag him into the kitchen where Callinan was already peering into one of the pans on the fire. He hadn’t even needed to ask; was able to tell from smell alone it was a wolf roast with honey and glazed onions, with baby potatoes and asparagus on the side. A meal that had been his comfort food for many years now– and considering they had known each other since the age of 12, of course Artyom knew about that.

‘You said we were having stew today!’ Callinan dramatically pointed out, the disappointment in their voice obviously fake and they only barely managed to dodge Artyom’s incoming swatting hand with a suppressed smile on their face. ‘I trusted you!’

‘That was your first mistake,’ Artyom playfully replied, managing to land a hit on Callinan’s wrist and effectively stopping them from trying to taste some of the still simmering sauce. ‘No, butcher had fresh meats in so I changed plans. We will have stew tomorrow.’

‘Well alright. Holding you to it.’

‘You are welcome to do so.’

Sascha stopped paying attention halfway through the conversation, leaning back into the furniture as he watched Artyom douse the fire with a single flick of his wrist and Callinan take out plates and utensils to set the table. The quiet moments were always his favorite; no danger lurking around the corner, just him and his friends in the safety and comfort of their own space finally getting the rest they deserved.

And perhaps one day his whole life could be quiet moments such as that. He was still young, of course– but with everything happening in the world, the unexplained rifts they had continued to run into, and Cthulhu’s influence gnawing away at his entire being, the thought of settling down brought him comfort like nothing else could.

His gaze wandered to the window and his eyes locked onto the dark storm clouds hanging above their heads. He could feel something tightening deep within his stomach– as if he was hungry, starving, and despite it being around dinnertime he knew very well that the hunger wasn’t his, and no meal would be able to sate it either.

A flash of lightning startled him, and he suddenly realized he was left alone in the kitchen.

For a second he could’ve sworn he saw the silhouette of a tentacle reaching out of the sky.

#asks #awful-roffle #writing asks #nuclearwriting #THAMK U i've missed my boys. i just think they're neat #i love doing little fics like this for my d&d guys because it forces to me write more about some random city #myvetal's potential... chef's kiss. if you ask me #the whole surroundings turning into a marsh during the rainy period is so good because it just #effectively cuts off the town from most of the outside world. except for the rapid transportation system #which is entirely under marius jahal's control. like that man is so powerful it's terrifying #anyway yes he's a very evil and also very old man but i can assure you this is not the gilf you're wanting him to be so keep that in mind