Discover Top Posts Tagged with #along the path

Along the path - Frozen Grapes

Male Commander/Daeran, alcohol, intoxication AO3 ~~~ Drezen, Arodus 30, 4716 “Shouldn’t it be a given that the people of this gorgi … gorious … glorious nation are also able to exercise a minimum of control when the head of the executive is chosen? We need far-reaching instruments to monitor or even impeach those who rule with false beliefs of falsehood and …” “Like the inquisition?” “No! The contrary of that! An anti-intiqui … Antiquisition!” His husband snorted. Had he said something funny? He of all people should be able to see the appeal of those ideas! Instead, he was smirking like some kind of amused and very self-satisfied cat. Well, if cats were actually smirking, of course, they weren’t, and instead … “Where d’ya think you’re going?” Daeran had left the couch. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your fierce speech, my love, I’m only getting us more wine.” “More of that sweet atrocity? Something is wrong with this wine, aside from the fact that it’s distasting … disgusting.” He had only accepted it because Daeran had insisted – once more – that today was the day that for the first time, he’d win a drinking contest against him. But the only thing still left in the house was this damn ice wine. “I don’t … I don’t think I feel so good.” “The wine is perfectly alright and of the highest quality. You’re only drunk, my heart.” Now it was for him to snort. “So much time and you still didn’t learn that I don’t … don’t do that.” “Do what?” “Getting drunk!” Daeran cheerfully came back with two more glasses and handed him one. “Then you can drink this without worries.” He did, emptying the glass like medicine and grimacing. “Right. Where was I?” “Abolishing the monarchy.” “What?” He felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. “I think I need … air.” “Wait, let me …” The moment he stood up, the room seemed to dance around him. He feared he’d vomit right here onto the carpet and collect all his willpower to fight the urge down. Daeran had jumped to his feet to support him and Salvadore held onto him, needing a moment to remember what he had wanted to do. With a miserable groan, he turned towards him. “What did you put into that wine of yours?” His words tumbled from his mouth in a rush of barely distinguishable syllables. “Such rude insinuations! It’s wine, nothing more!” Something smug appeared on his face. “Icewine from Alkenstar, made from grapes that are flash-frozen in a magic blizzard. The refreshing effulgence comes from trace amounts of positive energy. It’s fascinating, this wild magic. The grapes absorb it and it stays in the wine.” “You let me drink this? Positive energy?” His eyes widened and from one moment to the next his head felt the slightest bit clearer again. Daeran pulled him into a little kiss. “It doesn’t even harm truly undead creatures, there is not the slightest danger involved for a dhampir like you,” he assured, then grinned: “Although it comes with the highly entertaining effect to strongly lower your natural immunity, or almost-immunity, to alcoholic effects. It’s the first time you are drunk, isn’t it?” “I’ll kill you. Slowly.” “As endearing as it might turn out to watch you try in this state, I advise you take your vengeance tomorrow instead. Besides …” He still was smirking. “You would die yourself from missing me. Now let us get you into bed. Unless you want to hold another speech and tell me more about the benefits of the Antiquisition?” ~~~ For @turbulentpumpkin43 who wanted to see drunk Sal after I had found out that Alkenstar Ice Wine is the way to get there. 😁 In all the ten years I write him now, I never included a scene with him being drunk to this extent. Premiere!

Along the path - Daring Advances

Male Commander/Daeran, first kiss AO3 ~~~ Drezen, Lamashan 13, 4715 The soft wide seat cushion shielded them from the cold of the ground while the battlements of the city walls kept them hidden from prying eyes. He felt the warmth radiating from the candlestand behind him, but even stronger from a place deep within his chest. Daeran gestured in his natural elegance, punctuating his speech with vivid merriment while he answered his question about the events of his day with a small anecdote about a servant’s mishap with an order of Galdurian wine and his ideas on how to proceed with the five unexpected crates. There was not a trace of his usual sharpness in his words. His comments lacked their biting edge and he seemed utterly at ease. As it happened so often, Salvadore found himself captivated by his words, entranced by his voice, wishing he could freeze this moment and stay in it forever. “So, here we are, alone, at this utterly insignificant, tedious business meeting,” Daeran finished his story and came back to what he refused to call a date. “Would you be so kind as to suggest a conversation starter? We need something boring and practical to talk about. Boring and practical, as you know, is not exactly my forte.” Salvadore raised a brow, although more in amusement than in irritation, hoping for the insolent count that he didn’t mean to call him well-versed in the field; or well, at least not in the first part of it, in terms of practical, he was superior, indeed. “Army logistics,” he joined Daeran’s little game and suggested something that should qualify. It was his own least favorite part of the Crusade management, mainly since no one in the sector seemed to be vaguely competent or capable of following through with his orders. “A fine choice,” Daeran answered, as expected. “This topic is boring and complex enough that two people who are completely uninterested in each other could spend an evening discussing it. In fact, I do have some understanding of logistics.” And therefore, you are now the proud owner of five crates of Galdurian wine instead of five bottles? Salvadore didn’t interrupt him with the mocking question, but he was sure Daeran could read it on his face. Gracefully ignoring his amused expression, he continued: “– sometimes it takes a great deal of effort to get the goods you need shipped from distant parts of Golarion. So, get ready to listen to my lecture on the best companies specializing in magical teleportation services. I must alert you in advance – the list is quite long. It consists of around … two dozen enterprises. With all their terms and conditions, including their pricing policies …” Should Daeran hope to actually bore him, he was tremendously mistaken. If anything, a list of companies specializing in magical teleportation services was exactly what they needed to finally improve the logistic situation. There only was one problem: He definitely didn’t want to deepen this topic right here and now and Daeran knew it all too well, toying with him as usual. Soft snowflakes got caught in his hair, shimmering like molten gold in the shine of the candles’ light. It was tousled as if it had decided to join the levity and lighthearted freedom of the moment. He yearned to sink his hand into those soft, irresistible curls, feel them around his fingers like the finest silk, smell the scent of wild herbs and roses … Gods, he had dreamed about it for too long, of how this insufferable man would feel captured in his arms, trembling at his touch, breathing his name. He wanted him. He wanted him so much the sensation grew into a hot tearing in his very core. “Are you absolutely positive you don’t want me to stop now?” It was difficult not to drown in the view of his angelic face, not to sink too deep in the gleaming of his eyes, sparkling in mocking joy, or to lose himself while watching those wide, impertinent lips, adorned with a smug little smile. “I think I know one way,” he answered, voice low and with quiet determination. So?, his mischievous eyes seemed to ask in silent taunting, until, without further hesitation, he gave into the fierce desire. Cupping the count’s head – heaven, hsi hair felt even softer than in his imagination –, he claimed his lips in a demanding kiss. Daeran held back. Motionless and disinterested, he refused to return the kiss. His heart dropped. Just when he wanted to retreat, preparing an agonizing, humiliating apology, Daeran kissed back with vigorous passion, pulling him closer with his hands around the collar of his coat. Salvadore melted against him. Relief shot through his veins, a hint of anger, and the renewed eagerness to finally explore those irresistible lips. Daeran opened his mouth to meet his tongue with his, gently flicking it in a most enticing way. A quiet sound left his throat, causing him to deepen the kiss further. When they parted after a long blissful moment, Daeran moved closer ever so slightly to take his hand. The small touch left him trembling inside, overly aware of the intimate tenderness. “I wonder if I shall come to regret this? You’re dangerous, I know it.” Now it was for him to smile, more than pleased about the statement. But as much as a part of him enjoyed this hint of fear, to be seen like this, he wanted nothing more than for Daeran to finally trust him. Once more he closed the distance, this time to move his fingers through his golden hair, not hiding his devotion, not hiding his strong affection. “I’m no danger to you. Stop running away from me.” Something in Daeran’s face seemed to soften. “No more running,” he promised. His heart pounded hard in his chest when he raised his hand to his lips. Then, his expression now sincere and without a hint of mockery, Daeran leaned forward and captured his lips in another passionate kiss.

#pathfinder wotr #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #daeran #daeran arendae #commander x daeran #knight and dae #daeran x commander #wrath of the righteous #dmagedtexts #my writing #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #along the path #I know it's already on tumblr #but I can't post the new chapter of along the path if I didn't post the previous one first #aaa #bear with me pls

Along the path - Promising Recipes I

Male Commander/Daeran, cooking together

AO3

~~~ Wilderness resting spot, Lamashan 04, 4715 So far so good … He took the fowl out of the pot with purifying solution and started washing it carefully in the cooled-down water he had boiled before. It was exhausting to prepare food of vaguely acceptable quality out here in the wilderness around the worldwound. At first, he had refused to consume anything not brought from Drezen and made beforehand by the kitchen staff in a clean environment. But with the longer and increasingly demanding trips into the hostile nature, it became more practicable to work with what they found and occasionally hunted. Gods in heaven, he missed his cooks from Absalom. On a more positive note, the simmering broth of herbs and vegetables started to smell rather appealing. – And had attracted a curious observer. Salvadore took the next piece of fowl from the solution to clean it with water. “The commander himself on the cooking pot? A true man of the people,” Daeran mocked. “It always saddens my heart to discover the tragic fate of impoverished noble families, unable to afford the comforts they once were used to and instead forcing their offspring to adopt to the duties formerly placed on devoted servants.” Salvadore snorted without interrupting his work. “I can assure you the fortune of my family is flourishing. It was my mentor who taught me the basics of cooking and an important principle: Indulging in the merits of wealth shouldn’t lead to a dangerous and quite pathetic dependency on those around you.” He had expected further mockery in an attempt of his equally high-born companion to defend himself. Instead, his own posture stiffened ever so slightly when suddenly he felt Daeran’s presence much closer behind him, and the electrifying touch of his soft fingers to take the piece of fowl from his hands. Salvadore let it happen. “Rub them with salt and lemon juice,” Daeran said, voice low, and grabbed the suggested fruit from the improvised wooden board next to them. With a nonchalant step, he moved to his side to cut the lemon in half and use its juice and the salt from a small bowl to prepare the meat. The makeshift workspace didn’t offer much space and Salvadore found himself overwhelmingly aware of how close their bodies were. He smelled his expensive perfume of sandalwood, rose, and … herbs he wasn’t completely able to name. Instead, they stirred a faint memory suiting the occasion well enough to cause a distant yearning. The last time he had smelled a similar scent he had been younger, almost a child … “Don’t you want to cut the onions?” Salvadore forced his focus back to the task at hand and continued his work, chopping the onions in firm precise motions. “Should I start to worry about your financial situation now?” He could hear the smirk in the count’s voice without looking up at his answer: “Oh, by no means! More about my increasing boredom every once in a while, leading to attempts and experiments in varied domains, the kitchen only being one of many.” Daeran’s thigh briefly pressed against his when he reached for the Midnight Morels. Its warmth left an echo hard to shake off. “I like those.” “I noticed. When recently Sosiel followed the recipe we found at the Nameless Ruins, it was the first time you didn’t complain about the food. So I’m trying to refine it.” Daeran stopped and looked at him in surprise and amusement. “What a shocking and delightful confession! You’re telling me you’re preparing this meal all for me?” “Not in the slightest,” he lied without batting an eye. “It also was the first time I didn’t complain about the food.” Daeran chuckled. There was something soft in the sound. “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, he claimed the knife, his long fingers resting on his own for a moment too long. The tender touch had him trembling in secret pleasure. “We should try the recipe with high-quality meat once this nightmare is over. Andoran chicken or acorn dove.” He started to cut the Morels. Salvadore put the onions in a heated pan with some butter. Leaving them to sauté, he took a spoon from the pot with the content that had attracted the count’s attention and held it close to his face for him to try the broth. “Is anything missing, Your Highness?” Daeran smiled at him. His eyes never left his when he brought his lips to the silver, his gaze intense and enticing. Salvadore swallowed. “Not at all. As it turns out, I won’t protest today either.” Daeran seemed pleased and continued to chop the Midnight Morels, slow and in a steady rhythm. Without much success, Salvadore tried not to let his imagination run wild with ideas of what those fingers were capable of. “I’ll give the recipe to my staff as soon as it gets easier to order ingredients.” “What if I prefer it prepared by the skillful hands of our gifted leader?” “Then I’d doubt your judgment,” he replied and took the browned onions to add them to the soup. “My abilities in this field can’t compare to those of a qualified cook.” “Neither can mine. That, my dear Commander, is why we should combine our knowledge and repeat this little collaboration.” Well, that – he had to admit – was a thought worthy of his consideration.

Along the path - Vicious Bargains

Male Commander/Daeran, canon typical violence and gore, mention of rape, mention of slavery AO3 ~~~ Middle City, Alushinyrra, Pharast 02, 4715 “You are the one who bought all the Aasimar.” The complacent voice came from the tight dark alley to their right. There, in the red twilight, he recognized the frame of a tall Incubus leaning at the wall. Well, an Incubus, or maybe Succubus with male features, it was hard to distinguish, especially since they tended to shift their bodies the moment they picked up the desires of those around them and decided to play. Not that any of them got more than a glimpse of his mind before he shut them out, so they usually only had a vague idea to work with when they became bold enough to choose him for their games. The demon was muscular, like most of them, his wings a dark shade of purple, his long black hair loosely braided and decorated with small golden pearls. He left his place to walk up to them, his red eyes were fixated on Daeran, despite his words still being aimed at him instead: “I can see you keep your most precious purchases close. He looks good enough to eat … Or to drink from?” For a short moment, he grinned at him in an almost charismatic way. It seemed he had noticed his vampiric features. “Mmh, both probably, his blood so sweet, his flesh all tender. Many here would agree. It’s hard to resist sinking your teeth into something as delicate as the flawless skin of an Aasimar. But to lose something of his beauty would be a pity, wouldn’t it? … At least too soon.” The hunger in the Incubus’ eyes grew stronger while his full attention was back on Daeran. The count took a step backward. “That’s enough!” For him, this answer was quite tame. Not a single snide remark left his lips and Salvadore recognized the fear on his face. He hadn’t been the same since their arrival in the Abyss. “And you agree, don’t you?” The Incubus was utterly absorbed by Daeran, but ignored his remark. “How does he feel?” He licked his lips. “All nice and tight, I bet? I like the spirit in his eyes. He seems different from those I know. Does he scream when you punish him? Struggle and fight back? Or is he trained well and endures silently? Does it arouse him? Ah, don’t tell me, I want to find out for myself.” Finally, the Incubus turned around to face him. “How much for this special sweet Aasimar of yours?” Salvadore returned his gaze, face calm and without the slightest emotion. “How much do you offer?” “What?” Daeran asked sharply, his voice giving away a hint of panic. “Chief, I don’t think …,” Woljif interrupted, but Salvadore didn’t let him finish the sentence. “How much do you offer?” he repeated. The Incubus’ face lit up in joyful anticipation. “Thirty thousand.” A group of demons nearby had grown curious and watched the bargain in great, greedy interest. “Try again.” “Forty? That’s outrageous for a single Aasimar, but I …” “Again.” “Alright, alright. He really is that special, huh?” The demon smirked in excitement. “Fifty thousand. For this sum I usually get two of them. Sometimes three. But I agree. He truly seems beyond compare, definitely worhhg” The rest of the word changed into a throaty noise when his hand closed around the demon’s throat. He struggled against his grip but to no avail. While he had been distracted by Daeran, Salvadore had prepared a spell to immobilize the Incubus. Golden chains of light were holding him in place. The watching demon group started to mutter in delight, but didn’t intervene. “Allow me to help you out. The price you’re searching for …” He still was speaking in the same calm tone. Cleansing light floated from his hand, steady, but not too fast, burning him from the inside without any haste. The demon’s eyes widened in pain. “is a slow and torturous death, the exquisite and excruciating suffering while feeling every delicious second of your body’s insides turning into coal.” “I’m sorry! Please! I’m sorry!” The demon begged in agony. Salvadore continued, unaffected by his pathetic pleading. “And that, I fear, is only the payment for looking at him the way you did.” The Incubus’ words turned into incoherent, incomprehensible whimpering and, soon after, into wails and screams of pure anguish until there was little left of him. Salvadore cleaned his hand from the bloody remains, using a handkerchief from his pocket. Disgusting. He threw the other demons a look, but they didn’t seem in the mood to lose their lives and quickly left the scene. “This was unnecessary dramatic,” Daeran snapped. But Salvadore spotted relief on his face. His features looked untypical serious, though. Was he angry with him? A moment later Daeran relaxed and looked at the indefinable bulk that once had been an Incubus. “You enjoyed that.” “That’s absurd,” Salvadore stated. He didn’t even try to sound convincing. There it was, a flicker of amusement in the corner of Daeran’s mouth. Salvadore relaxed as well. “I didn’t know you had that in you.” It was hard to place the emotion in Daeran's eyes. Affection? Fascination? Nervousness? He wanted to pull him in his arms, but neither would he allow it in the middle of this street nor was this an even remotely safe idea with the prying eyes of demons following their every step. “Killing a demon?” he mocked instead, “There were a few hints along the way that I may be capable of doing so.” He was glad to hear Daeran laugh. The tension melted away some more. “I meant the cruel act of torture in feeling overly self-important and ridiculously protective over your travel companions. Should I start to worry about that possessive streak of yours? You didn’t even ask for my opinion.” Salvadore snorted. With a gesture, he instructed the others to continue moving and took his place in front with Daeran at his side. Hopefully, this would stay the first and last incident of that sort. “The next time a demon tries to purchase you, I’ll make sure to ask if you’d prefer to accept the offer before killing them.” “The next time a demon tries to purchase me, I’ll kill them myself, thank you very much.”