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durgesupremacy · 6 months

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durgetash fanfiction diary I guess. They Fight

The Bhaalspawn had impressed Gortash before they even met. They’d seen gaps in his plans, asked questions he hadn’t considered, found advantages he’d missed. He knew how to engage with subordinates, lackeys, and he knew they belonged there eventually. Bane would not submit to Bhaal. But for now, they were a collaborator, the likes of which he’d never had. Solace.

It was fortunate, the Bhaalist torture racks and remains in the Hall of Wonders. Gortash could probably have found another way to ensure their working together, but nothing quite so guaranteed. With most of Gortash’s marks there was information, acquired through his observation or the perspective of others, that told him how to motivate and convince even the most suspicious in Baldur’s Gate. But Solace was hidden even from him. They had no allies, no connections. They attended no gatherings. Someone fitting their description was supposedly killed, years ago. That was the extent of their public reputation. No routines, no haunts. No angle for Gortash to exploit. So he gambled on the temple leader wanting to reclaim ancestral belongings. But Gortash was an excellent gambler.

Standing here in the foundry, however, he watched his latest bet play out somewhat unexpectedly. “Are you… bored?”

Solace was fighting four Steel Watchers at once. They and Gortash had spent the day preparing, meeting early only to find themselves with more time to spare than expected. Yet with hours before sundown, he asked if he could see them fight, and here they were. They whirled around the Watchers with ease, but somehow their blood seemed dead in their veins.

“Yes, I’m bored,” they said. “I’m fighting metal. There’s no life to take.” Solace spoke without pause in their combat, ripping a helmeted head off a Watcher as another stepped in to take its place. They looked as hollow as their opponents.

Gortash blinked, considering this. A want at long last, and a logical one too. He should’ve known. But he’d seen what he wanted to see; he knew how Solace would fight, and how to work with such a combat style.

Or did he? Would they fight better, with the anticipation of blood on their slender hands?

“Fight me, then.” He waved off the Watchers and stepped down into the stone pit. Solace raised an eyebrow.

“Are you… sure?” There was something new in their voice, Gortash wasn’t sure what. Surprise? Skepticism? “You’re proposing single combat with a Child of Bhaal.”

“Don’t kill me, obviously. Or wound me to any meaningful degree. But yes, let’s spar.” He readied himself. “I want to know how you fight when you aren’t bored.”

Solace stared blankly for a moment before taking a deep breath and closing their eyes. Something seemed to stir, and then settle, in their form. “Tap out when you’re done. When you’re finished, say ‘I forfeit.’ Promise.”

“I shall.” Gortash resented this, Solace demanding things of him yet again, but their tone was past confidence. It was certainty. They knew something he didn’t, and though they commanded him, it was somehow a courtesy.

“Then we begin.” Solace opened their eyes and looked upon him hungrily.

He just finished casting his spell before they were upon him, daggers clashing against his sword. If Gortash had time to think, he might’ve regretted himself. But it was act or die. Solace demanded every ounce of his attention.

His spells weakened them, shook up their steps, but it wasn’t long before Solace drew blood. Their dagger opened Gortash’s forearm and Solace peaked at the sight of it, halting to savor the wound, eyes bright. Gortash lunged at them, hoping it was a moment of weakness. Solace deflected him with ease, still staring at his blood on their dagger. He saw them wanting, again, though he couldn’t fully understand it. Is this all they craved? The promise of violence? They turned their full attention back to him, and the hunger seemed deeper than bloodthirst.

Gortash finally wounded Solace, but to his shock, it only stirred them more. Solace laughedas his blade opened up their side. He felt them refocus then, a rush of motivation in their breath, and suddenly it clicked. He’d already seen enough, of course, to know how the Bhaalspawn would fight. But he wanted to know why they fought. And he saw it. Pain was pleasure, thrill, yet Solace could steel themselves, hold back the impulse to indulge. They dominated themselves and stayed focused on the fight. The ecstatic thrill of murder, so tempting to Bhaal’s children, held off until the end in favor of efficiency. The urge to play held back by the desire to win. Such control.

“I forfeit.”

He said the words as Solace was mid-lunge. A test, of sorts, and another gamble—if he was wrong, the Bhaalspawn might seriously injure him in their fervor. But Gortash bet well this time. They adjusted their strike. Solace barreled into Gortash and together they slammed into the ground, dazed but not wounded any further. Gortash struggled to regain his breath as Solace pinned him, their faces inches apart. Solace’s gaze held his but for occasional glances at his wound. Their body burned with heat and their breath was as heavy as his. But they had mastered themselves. Gortash felt their heartbeat slow, and soon, they looked at him with the same composure they held at their first meeting.

“Good timing. It would’ve been… uncomfortable to stop, going much longer.” Solace got up and Gortash’s body marked the change, the absence of heat and weight. After a moment, Solace offered their hand.

An idea. He took their hand with his wounded arm, and he was rewarded with a momentary lapse in composure as Solace’s fingertips grazed his blood.

***

Solace thought Gortash fought well. Different, but effective. And thank goodness he did, or he might not have lived, no matter the benefits of alliance. He all but bore his throat to them.

The scent of Gortash’s blood was faint, but it was the only thing Solace could smell. The second he left the room Solace put their fingers in their mouth. A moment of divine bliss, to taste the blood of the Chosen of Bane. Asking them to fight him was the first foolish thing they’d seen him do. Bhaal cared more for death than cooperation, and the death of his enemy’s servant would have pleased him. Gortash surely knew this, and yet he asked anyway. Curious.

Solace dealt with their wounds and laid as comfortably as they could on the hard stone of the battle room. Pleasure at the wrong time was a risk, for them. They’d seen what too much indulgence could do to a Bhaalspawn. And it was better, to not have to watch Gortash mend a wound they’d inflicted. Solace would be irrationally frustrated. They were frustrated already if they thought about it too hard. Solace focused on the cold stone floor, the uneven and uncomfortable texture. It helped them let go of the memory of Gortash’s body underneath them, breath on their face, blessedly full of adrenaline and imminent gore if only he’d let them continue and they’d fed their urge. All they allowed was the taste of his blood, already fading on their lips.

#durgetash #enver gortash #baldurs gate 3 #goretash #they/them durge #gn!durge #the dark urge #bg3 fanfiction #uhh creative writing practice I guess

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drop-of-infinity · 3 years

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Destiel fic time, this part canon compliant with season 12. As always, anything is quotation marks is directly from the show, and any chapter can be read alone.

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

<><><><><><><>

Chapter 9: season 12

Keep Calm and Carry On

{“Whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend.” On some level Dean knew that Mary’s gun couldn’t actually hurt Cas, but he still panicked at the sight of it pointed at the angel’s chest. Besides, he didn’t want Mary and Cas’s first meeting to involve anyone getting shot. Cas stared at him in shock, then immediately wrapped his arms around him. Dean sunk into Cas. I’m home, he thought.

{“Dean!” Cas felt like his chest was going to explode. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive. He latched onto the hunter, desperately needing the contact, and almost cried when he felt Dean’s arms lift up to hug him back. This is real. He’s alive. When they separated, Cas found himself breathless. Odd, as I don’t technically need to breathe, his slightly scrambled brain thought distantly. He looked up at Dean who was smiling softly, and his heart clenched. I love you.

{“Cas Cas Cas! Don’t hurt him. Not yet.” Cas allowed Dean to hold him back. He was an angel, Dean wouldn’t actually be able to stop him from doing anything, but Cas had enough faith in him to allow himself to be manhandled. He still glanced up at Dean ruefully, although the effect was slightly ruined by the way he’d already melted under his hands.

The Foundry

{“Morning sunshine.” Sam gave Dean a weird look, and he realized he’d said that out loud. It was getting steadily harder to keep his thoughts under lock and key around Cas. Dean was used to hiding feelings, but four years was a long time to know you were in love with someone and never say anything. He took a deep breath and pressed everything down again.

First Blood

{“They’ve only been gone-“

“Six weeks two days and ten hours.” Cas’s chest hurt. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up for letting them go, even though Dean had told him to. Dean. Where was he now? Was he ok? Cas knew that the longing rolling off himself must be palpable but he didn’t care at this point. He just wanted Dean back.

{“Cas.” “Dean?” “Hey buddy, long time.” “What-what happened, wh-where are you?” Cas almost collapsed on the spot. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest and his knees were weak with relief. How many times had they almost lost each other by now? It didn’t matter, because every time it was the same bone crushing relief, the same lung deflating he’s okay he’s okay he’s okay. Cas grabbed the edge of a chair to steady himself, and took a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

{“Hey buddy.” Cas melted into Dean’s arms, barely holding back a whimper. The hug was over far too soon for his aching skin, and he turned his body towards Dean as he walked away, like a flower trying to catch the sun.

{As they sat in the back of the car, Dean considered what he had done and what he was about to do. There was no way he was letting Billie reap Sam or their mom. He was about to die. It was why he was sitting in the back of the car with Cas. He just wanted to be with him for a minute. Cas’s hand rested on the seat between them. Dean didn’t grab it, because he was, at heart, a coward, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything so badly. He could practically see the longing radiating off himself in waves.

Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets

{“Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Dean’s blood was boiling. This dickhead had no idea what Cas could do, what he had done. He might not command celestial armies anymore, but the dude was still amazing. It was more than just righteous anger though. Cas had rebelled against heaven for them. For Dean, or so he said. The way Ishim was talking to Cas, everything he said about how far Cas had fallen... it was all on Dean. He knew Cas would resent him for saying it though, so he didn’t.

{“I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness the same way I cured my own. By cutting it out.” Cas lay bleeding on the floor, unable to do anything, but he knew Ishim was wrong. Ishim’s love for Lily had turned him dark and twisted because she didn’t love him back. Cas knew Ishim could feel Cas’s longing, and saw a similar situation to himself and Lily with Cas and Dean, but he hadn’t accounted for one thing. Cas was at peace with it. He was prepared to always love Dean and never get an answer, and that wasn’t a weakness. It was what had made him strong enough to stop the apocalypse, to break free of Naomi’s control, to save the world from Amara. It was his greatest strength.

Stuck In The Middle (With You)

{“I think I’m dying.”

“No.” Dean could feel the panic rising into his throat, and he forced it down. Cas needed him right now, he didn’t have time for this. I can’t lose him he thought desperately. They had to do something. A distant part of his mind reminded him of something someone had told him once. “I watched the man I loved die. There’s no normal after that.” Dean steeled himself. He was NOT about to watch the man he loved die because they were going to fix Cas. They had to.

{“I love you. I love all of you.” Cas was dying, and he needed them to know. He needed Dean to know. He had imagined saying it a million times, and there had been dozens where it was on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he hadn’t pictured this. Dying in a barn, stabbed by a prince of hell. In some ways, Cas thought it was fitting. Dean met him in a barn after all. The beginning of the end. It didn’t matter now. He had said it. I love you. Yet somehow, Cas couldn’t even meet Dean’s eyes. He had a feeling the other man hadn’t gotten the real meaning behind his words. Not that it mattered. This was the end.

{Miraculously, Cas didn’t die. As Sam and Dean pulled him to his feet, all of his nerves were focused on the place where Dean’s hand held his. As the hunter let go, Cas chased his touch unconsciously, and felt Dean’s hand pivot back towards his and brush his skin again. His heart clenched painfully.

The Future

{“You know what, whatever. Welcome back.” Dean knew he wasn’t being fair, and he knew he was just making things worse, but he couldn’t stop. He was just so angry. He’d been worried sick about Cas and turns out... turns out the angel had just been ignoring him. It hurt like hell. He wanted... well that was the problem wasn’t it? He wanted. Dean rubbed his face and sighed. Just because you’re in love with the guy doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole, he told himself firmly. You wanted him back and now he’s back. Don’t be a dick.

{“It’s a gift. You keep those.” It was an olive branch, and Cas knew it. He was strangely relieved to be allowed to keep the mixtape. He remembered Dean giving it to him, and he remembered listening to it anytime he was driving alone. The music was... enjoyable. Cas found he liked the beats and the feel of it, but mostly he liked that Dean had given it to him. He was pleased to be allowed to keep it. Cas felt a surge of guilt about what he was about to do, but it had to be done. For the greater good, he told himself. He remembered repeating the same thing when he was working with Crowley all those years ago, and felt slightly sick. This time is different, he thought firmly. I’m not letting Dean do this. This... this is on me.

{“W-we?” “Yes dumbass, we.” Dean’s heart broke a little at the uncertainty in Cas’s voice. Sometimes the angel seemed seconds away from breaking, and Dean just wanted to grab him and hold him together. He pushed that feeling down, along with the way his chest ached with fondness at seeing Cas silhouetted in his doorway.

{“What the hell were you thinking?”

Dean shoved him up against the hotel wall as soon as he walked in, his arm warm against Cas’s chest. He hoped Dean couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating through the trenchcoat. Cas should really not be staring at Dean’s lips right now, but Cas has missed him so much and he wants so desperately. Sam called Dean over before Cas could do something he would regret. He ran a hand over his chest, aching and missing Dean’s angry warmth.

{“You’re hurt.” Cas reached out and touched Dean’s hand lightly, then slid up and wrapped his hand around Dean’s injured arm. It was not necessary to touch people to heal them, which Cas was hoping Dean hadn’t figured out yet. He drew his hand away slowly, and Dean looked down at his healed arm as though in awe. Cas couldn’t imagine why. He’d healed Dean countless times since they’d met.

All Along The Watchtower

{“Here Dean. Let me.” Cas touched two fingers to Dean’s head gently, and his leg healed at once. The cut on his cheek also stitched itself up. Dean felt his heart speed up a little as Cas drew his hand away, and Dean looked down, flustered. He sighed inwardly. He was a grown man, not a teenager with a crush. He didn’t get fucking butterflies. Except, apparently, he did.

{“No!” As Sam ran inside to find Jack and Kelly, Dean sank to his knees, overcome with grief. Their mom was in the other world with Lucifer, and Cas... Dean knelt next to the angel, too stunned to do anything. The outline of Cas’s wings stretched across the ground beside them, and Dean lowered his head. He felt hollow. He stood slowly, looking up at the sky. Cas had always loved the stars. Dean wanted to scream, to find God and rip him limb from limb, to do something other than sit here and drown in his sorrow, but he couldn’t. Dean looked down at Cas again. The angel’s eyes were closed. He was gone.

{Cas had felt the life drain out of him, felt his spirit fall into the earth and then sink beyond it. Now he felt nothing at all.

{Dean wished he could fly into the stars, find Chuck and make him bring Cas back. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything at all.

#supernatural #destiel #spn #deancas #castiel #supernatural thoughts #spn thoughts #spn season 12 #supernatural season 12 #lily sunder has some regrets #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fanfiction #deancas fanfic #deancas fic

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