#halk writes

[arcandoria-archived]

(literal) thirst for thirsty thursday

A transparent dollop appeared under her jaw — if water or sweat, Heinrix did not know.

It traveled down as she drank, and his eyes followed as if it led to rapture. A slow line towards her throat, then a quick drop through her neck, before it pooled — just for a moment — on the dip of her clavicle.

In the confines of his organized mind, where attention to detail had been shaped and reshaped down to a clinical science, Heinrix wondered if he’d ever recall anything from their current mission the same way this bead of liquid had just been branded into his memory.

Cerys moved, and the droplet slid free down her chest, disappearing behind fabric, to places his eyes couldn’t chase but his imagination was keen to pursue after. The collar of his jacket felt suddenly tight.

She wordlessly offered him the canteen, and the interrogator took it. At least his mouth could ghost the taste of her lips.

[arcandoria-archived]

“Give me that.” Heinrix extended a hand over their breakfast table. “That sounds like an order.” She gently tilted her head, flask still firm in hand. “Is that on the authority of an agent of the Holy Inquisition?” “On my authority of someone who cares deeply about you.” Cerys had to consciously stop herself from promptly handing the flask over, such the ease his words had disarmed her. She pressed her lips together and blinked a second too long before staring back at him with a contained smile. He raised an eyebrow, expression serene. As were their games of Regicide, while she was still getting better on planing her moves ahead, Heinrix had already figured out her tactics — and how to promptly crumble them. Cerys flipped the flask’s covering and locked eyes with him — who still held his hand open — and dipped a tiny measure of alcohol into her cup as he watched through narrowed eyes, and only then, she flicked the lid closed and handed Heinrix the flask. He was still glaring at her as he put the flask out of her reach, and she took a sip of her spiced recaf — it packed none of the punch without the rotgut, but it’d have to do. She offered him an innocent smile as she set down the cup, and Heinrix’s scowl vanished into a soft chuckle. “I don’t know how you even like this.” “I already told you I took a shot of promethium in a dare, I’m surprised you still think I have standards.” Heinrix sighed.

[arcandoria-archived]

For the writing prompt! The first time Heinrix made Cerys blush. ^_^

Cerys froze when his gloved fingers met her bare hand. It was an utterly unfamiliar sensation to her. She even felt the lump of air that got stuck in her throat as she momentarily forgo breathing - Terra, how long had it been she'd felt this way, and not out in the field, facing a force so grand it made her question their winning chances? And even so, she'd pick up her resolve right away, lift her weapon and face danger full speed ahead. This time, though, in the quiet and comfort of the Rogue Trader's study, she simply stared. Like a spectator in her own body, her eyes followed as Heinrix van Calox bent down slightly, and pressed her knuckles to his lips. In the haze of the warmth that spread violently within her, she noticed the tone of his grey eyes did not match with one another. It was but a moment, and he let go of her hand right after. Cerys had to make a conscious attempt to wire her muscles back to her brain so her arm wouldn't slump gracelessly at gravity's mercy. "I hope we will find another opportunity to talk." Heinrix left, and she had no idea if she'd even return his farewell in any way. She stood there for a moment, right hand sustained away from her, a million thoughts running through her scarred brain. Half-dropping to the chair next to the Regicide board's table, she held her own hand with the other, thumb running at its back. Feeling her face impossibly, unbearably warm, knowing that skin had flushed where the heat pooled, Cerys lightly brought the fingers he'd kissed to her own lips.

Not much to say about this one, other than you can't expect a woman not to fold when she gets treated like this :3

FIRST TIME PROMPT

[arcandoria-archived]

the first time cerys touched heinrix?

Cerys bit down on a glove, tugging her hand free then holding the piece between her teeth. She reached for his face with the now bare hand, eyes fixed on the injury on his head, and gently pushed a lock of hair away from the open wound. Heinrix held a breath at the contact, something of a half-chill running through him at her touch, though his face betrayed none of it. She wouldn't see, either way, concentrated as she was on the care of his injuries. Her hand was firm, though the movement was gentle. In a single gesture she'd gathered the loose hair between her fingers, then shifted her hand upwards to expose the shrapnel cuts still needing treatment, fingertips sliding softly across his skin and scalp before resting lightly at the side of his head. The single, inappropriate thought that crossed his mind was that of giving to the temptation to lean against the gesture.

I like to think Cerys doesn't enjoy the idea of leaving Heinrix to care for his wounds with biomancy all the time, specially if it's something that requires fishing shrapnel or debris out of the wound first. She can't give anyone medical assistance, Kibellah is often the one who does that, but Cerys helps when she can.

If you ask her about it, Cerys will probably think about when she kissed him in the Magnae Accessio to be the first time she touched him, but Heinrix has other memories of it (how can someone so easily give concern and gentle care for him like this?).

FIRST TIME PROMPT

[arcandoria-archived]

thirsty thursday + wip whenever

tagged by @themumblingmouse ❤️

Their eyes met, and he instinctively braced as if he could buckle under aquamarine weight. “You’ve got more virtuous priorities.” Heinrix said nothing, and handed back her canteen with a nod. How to explain to her that he’d both hold to and wrestle against the fading imprint of her body, a crave so dire it impaired his sleep? That he carried around a cloth with the lipstick stains she left him with that day, as if it were a holy relic? That he’d cling to it as if it could grant salvation when the hunger for her seeped so deeply into his flesh that it led him to sin? How in the gloom of his cabin, he’d press his eyes shut and work himself into a frenzy just with the memory of her taste? His priorities — however virtuous they might be — were battling on uneven ground came night.

tagging: @holylustration; @nadas-dirthalen; @redbatchedcumbermayned; @pheedraws and whoever else feels like it :3

(no pressure, and no need to share thirsty if you don't want to, ofc!)

[arcandoria-archived]

wip wednesday

Cerys marched ahead, footsteps quiet on the red carpet with trims of embroidered gold that still reflected the lumen on the walls despite their evident age, eyes fixed on those of the painting of her predecessor at the end of the trophy hall. Theodora von Valancius looked down from the canvas, the perfect picture of a Rogue Trader — defiant, confident, predatory. Staring long enough made the impasto of Theodora’s eyes glimmer with an expectation that had her shoulders sinking from an ethereal pressure. She rubbed her eyes and the bridge of her nose with a sigh, then made a mental note to ask for Theodora’s favored conquests to be moved and displayed elsewhere in the voidship. Cerys had enough haunting to contend to.

I was tagged ages ago by @nadas-dirthalen, @amasec and @theevilscribbler to share a wip, but I was working on hush hush gift exchange stuff and had nothing to share. Now that I have some time for personal projects, here I am!

And since it was a while ago, I'm tagging you guys right back again, and adding @lordcaptains, @holylustration, @otherpigeon and @pinkyjulien to the mix - art, writing, modding, your call. And no pressure, ofc! <3

[arcandoria-archived]

For the first time asks: first time Cerys woke next to Heinrix? :)

Sleep did not come easily to her, and even when it did, it was often cut short by unpleasant dreams or simply her wounded mind's inability to remain still for too long. Cerys stirred, half-confused from the slumber, only for her body to meet resistance. Realization came in a quick chain, then: she'd invited Heinrix to her chambers as the day reached its end, and before he clothed himself and hurried away, mustered the courage to ask him to stay. At how easily he complied - returning under the sheets to wrap himself around her - he'd been hoping for her to do so for a while now. He'd succumbed to tiredness first, forehead pressed to her throat and cheek to her chest. Her arm under him had already begun to stiffen and she couldn't find a way to shift her legs into a more comfortable position, but Cerys didn't move, and sleep eventually claimed her, even if for a little while. Heinrix was still with his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, face shoved into the crook of her neck, his breathing lazily brushing against her collarbones. Her arm under him had lost sensation, but the other free hand went to rest at the nape of his neck, nails scratching softly at his skin. When the candlelight caught the gold of the Inquisitorial Rosette resting at the bottom of her bed frame, Cerys sighed and, gently, pressed Heinrix tighter to her. At least the lack of sleep prolonged the moments she couldn't enjoy otherwise.

I got a little carried away with this one. fdsgfdh

Even after Commorragh it takes her a few nights to ask him to stay. Partially because she's a terrible insomniac and thinks she makes a poor sleeping partner, but mostly because it's a type of vulnerability she's never had with a romantic partner before.

She probably slept only an hour or so, but she got to big spoon and pet his hair for most of the night, so it's still a win! <3

FIRST TIME PROMPT

[arcandoria-archived]

WIP Wed-Whateversday

tagged by @gaqalesqua ❤️

got a bit of a freakish strike lately, specially involving my WoW OCs, Nightwisp (a night elf druid) and Trakkal (a zandalari troll witch doctor) - so for this reason I'm not tagging anyone as I don't wanna potentially make people uncomfortable lol but if you feel like sharing, consider yourself tagged :3

Trakkal is blind so writing from his POV has been interesting

under the cut are two snippets. CW for con-noncon, dubcon and somnophilia

CW CNC

Whatever dark magic he had used against her would sap strength in equal measure of her struggle, and with the shaman’s totem keeping her from casting any spells, Nightwisp could not rid herself of the curse. All she could do was remain hips point skyward, a slight pressure on her throat from both magic and Trakkal’s hand on her nape, and the relentless stretch of him inside her.

CW Dubcon, Somnophilia

He understood then — though it’d been a somewhat obvious suspicion — the reason why druids buried themselves in such dens before entering dreamlike state. While their spiritual selves roamed Ysera’s realm, their bodies remained vulnerable in the physical dimension. But the body remained responsive, to his delight. The pads of Trakkal’s fingers continued to roam the soft skin of the druidess inner thigh, the drum inside her chest picking up pace, and the nipple between the fingers of his other hand continued to harden. He gently re-positioned Nightwhisp’s legs, then caressed her slit before pressing the digit into her. Her entrance spread, and moisture greeted him.