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athenril-of-kirkwall · 3 years

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More Solavellan smut, because you all love it, babe!

Solavellan, “Healthy Disagreements” (AO3) [Explicit]

Solas was in his study, set on the lowest floor of the library rotunda that was adjacent to the main hall in Skyhold, poring over some sketches he’d made of the frescoes he’d observed at that lost temple of Dirthamen which he, Rivka, and the others had explored not a week past following his research into the glyphs they’d found amongst scattered ruins in the Exalted Plains whilst they were clearing out the Freemen there.

He in particular was fascinated by the fact that many of the murals had in fact been not of Dirthamen but of Falon’Din, that guardian and friend of the dead. He let himself have a smirk, marvelling that the old secret-keeper would choose to hide himself behind another’s guise, even unto the very end…and beyond. He looked over their form and design carefully, looking for any variations from what he knew Falon’Din normally looked like to see if the God of Secrets’ handiwork was visible.

Casting a gaze at the oil lamp on his table, he idly wondered how long he’d been at work. Certainly it was long past the time where more sensible men retired to their quarters. But then again, he hardly felt like dreaming tonight, and Rivka had assured him, in fact multiple times, that neither he nor she would be needed for much important the next day.

So focused was he upon his task that he barely noticed her coming in, only glancing up to acknowledge Rivka’s presence as he heard the door closing behind her.

Looking back down at his sketches, he said, “Evening, vhenan. Or is it morning? I hadn’t thought you’d be up at this unearthly hour, to be quite honest. I…”

Slamming her palms on the table, Rivka violently interrupted him, saying, “It’s an hour past midnight, Solas, and I well know that because I’ve been sitting around for a full hour in my room waiting for you to come up.”

Barely even reacting to the jolt which had shaken his desk and merely noting that the oil lamp hadn’t been upset, Solas said, giving a cursory look to Rivka, “Ah, yes! Pardon me, vhenan, but I was so caught on a detail I found in my last sketch that—”

“Dread Wolf take your sketches and your murals!”, Rivka shouted, yanking them off the desk and scattering them on the floor, where they gently fluttered to land around her slippered feet. “And the least you could do is look at me when you talk to me, as well!”

Having no choice but to do so, Solas turned his gaze upwards at Rivka, noting that her usually coiffed hair was now hanging in strands around her face, and that she didn’t seem to be wearing much beyond a silken robe with a Chantry insignia on it and her slippers.

Finally, he asked, “Forgive me, Rivka. Is there something I have done to warrant…”

“I don’t think I will, and I think you have, or more accurately haven’t, Solas,” she scolded. “When I ask you to come up to my quarters for a…private meeting…I expect you to at least tell me if you’re not going to beforehand instead of wasting my time.”

Looking more closely at her, Solas noted that despite the chill of the night and her rather scant attire, she was flushed partly with anger and partly with…something else.

Comprehending some of the subtext, he said, “I am truly sorry, Rivka. I must still have failed to grasp your meaning when you did say that, and I swear that I was far too engrossed with my work to note the passing of the hour.”

Walking around the table to draw herself up to him, Rivka said, “I’m not going to accept your apology, and I’m certainly not going to say sorry for knocking all your precious drawings to the floor either, seeing as you clearly care about them far more than you do me. So, are you going to do something about that?”

“Whatever do you mean?”, he asked innocently.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Creators help me if you truly don’t get it, and may they help you if you’re just playing dumb. This is what I mean.”

Demonstrating her intent, she reached out for the back of Solas’ neck and head and pinned her lips to his, forcefully kissing him repeatedly and breaking away only to catch a breath.

“There,” she said. “That’s what I was expecting a full hour ago, in the comfort of my own room, and not in the chilly recesses of—”

She never finished her sentence as he now took the initiative, forcing her to seat upon the now-empty desk as he took his turn to land his own kisses upon her. Before she could lay back upon it or adjust her position, he grasped his beloved by her arms, his own eyes flashing lustfully.

“I think I am about to ‘do something about it’, as you’ve so nicely put it,” he hissed. “But before that, a word?”

“A word?”, Rivka asked, essentially thinking aloud before realising what he meant. “‘Ocularum’, then.”

His question was silently asked by the raise of an eyebrow.

“It’s the least sexy thing I know,” she explained. “Now, I suppose you’re going to take your anger out on me for scattering your beloved sketches?”

Answering her in husky breaths, he said, “And more. It’s remarkable—and distressing for your people as a whole—that you lived your entire life in a clan with essentially a dozen mothers and fathers and none of them taught you any manners.”

“Manners?”

“What sort of person petulantly storms into another’s study and throws their work to the ground when they think they’re not being given enough attention?”, he asked. “Imagine the insolence were you to do that anywhere else, to anyone else!”

Locking her gaze into his, she breathily said, “Ooh, say ‘insolence’ again, Solas. I like the sound of the word on your lips.”

“Amongst so many things about them. Time to work this insolence out of your system then, vhenan,” he growled, next commanding, “Turn around.”

Looking at Solas with a blank expression, Rivka saw his turn from impatience to offence.

“Did you not hear me, Rivka?”, he said. “Turn around and put your hands on the table. If I have to ask again I can’t promise you I’ll do so patiently.”

Nodding meekly, she turned to face the table and gently placed her palms on the tabletop. With a sudden jerk, one hand on the small of her back and another at her nape, Solas forced her down on the table, her nipples squashing against her breasts as her cheek firmly landed on it too. The bottom of her robe hiked up a little as she bent forward, and she felt a chill draught around her thighs, shivering as she did so.

Solas then glided along the insides of her legs with his knuckles, curving away from her quim to round her buttocks as he gathered the loose end of her robe, bunching its folds and gathering them around her waist, exposing her to the elements and noting with some amusement that firstly, she had indeed not been wearing anything under that robe, and next that she was already slick with anticipation.

Rivka gasped as he spread her arousal along the length of her folds with his fingertips, moaning as the momentary contact faded just as soon as he’d made it.

“Shush,” he said. “This is meant to be a reprimand, not an outlet for your lasciviousness. Lie still whilst I administer some corrections.”

“Corrections?” was all she was able to manage as she thought about what he meant before she felt the sudden sting of his palm on her buttock, releasing a loud groan of pleasure as its coursed through her body.

“Enough!”, he cried, smacking the other one in an attempt to silence her but only making her moan even louder, alternating between the two savagely.

Gasping shallowly, Rivka felt her slick running down her thigh, glancing upwards and hoping nobody was watching or hearing this depraved scene.

“You really are something else,” he said, “Wantonly crying out so that everybody in this rotunda can hear your arousal. I wonder if…”

She’d barely even started pondering his trailed-off sentence before the next slap struck her full on her lips, causing her to quiver in pleasure, with the next one and the following one after that making her buck against the empty air where Solas’ palm had been, and she felt herself on the brink of coming when he reached out and grabbed her entire mound with his hand, closing her lips against each other.

What pleasure there was turned to pain as he gripped it tighter, the force of his fingertips overriding any urge or ability for her to come there and then, and she felt tears from both agony and joy run down her face as he leant over her back, whispering into her ear.

“Don’t presume to come now, not without permission. Do so and I’ll leave your hands bound to this table and bring you to the edge of orgasm again and again, unable to relieve yourself until I decide you’re worthy of doing so,” he promised, asking, “Do you understand me, vhenan?”

She nodded as best she could, her cheek scraping a little as she did so against the table.

“Good,” he said, seemingly satisfied with that. After some silence, she heard some noises behind her, like cloth falling from a place, then the sound of Solas’ footsteps again.

“I do wonder now,” she heard him ponder, “If you’ve ever given this over to anyone.”

At this, she felt what had to be the tip of his phallus briefly touch…briefly touch her rear end? No! Not there! She shook violently against the notion, feeling fresh tears run down her face as she did so.

“Shush,” he said gently. “Calm yourself. I was merely asking. And…here?”

Warmth pulsed through her body as he made contact with her pussy, and she nodded enthusiastically, biting her lip to restrain herself from moaning lustfully at the touch’s promise.

Her self-control was brought to the edge of her limits as she felt his tip slide in whilst his thumbs sought out the little dimples on the back of her waistline and his fingers grasped the skin around her hips, rolling the flesh of her curves between them. Just as she sensed all those touches on her skin, his shaft fully slid into her, Rivka groaning as he did so, with his grip on her hips tightening as he pumped in and out of her body.

Although not quite as long and as…girthy…as she’d imagined or fantasised, it was hitting all the right spots, the head in particular coming to rest against a tight bundle of nerves that caused her to gasp as he slowly, agonisingly, massaged it with his cock. She tried to work her pussy around him to stimulate that spot, but that was only met with anger, as he withdrew his penis entirely, leaving her aching for him to thrust it in again.

“Are simple instructions beyond you, Rivka?”, he hissed, reaching for her wrists one at a time and pinning them to the small of her back with one hand as he slid back into her, stating, “I’ll be taking my pleasure first before you’re allowed to do anything. Understood?”

She nodded again, trying to relax and stand still despite the myriad of sensations coursing through her as he resumed fucking her over his worktable, the obscene sounds of slapping skin echoing through the tower. His pace, steady at first, became more and more fervent, only slowing down long enough for him to lean over to her ear again, shifting his body weight on her wrists as his grip tightened to a vice.

“I think I’m about to reach…that point,” he growled, asking, “Are you ready as well?”

She nodded, and started quivering and trembling impatiently under and around him as the wait for the promise in his words dragged on, until he reached under her chin with his free hand, tilting her head up at him so he could make sure she saw his stern glare. Rivka slowed her breath, exhaling fully as she attempted to calm down. As Solas released her chin, she also felt his grip around her wrists vanish.

“Hands on the table again, vhenan,” Solas ordered, further commanding, “Let’s not have any distractions, shall we?”

Grasping her hips again, he ploughed into her savagely, grunting and groaning in ancient elvhen as he brought himself to his climax, flushing her insides with his release. Rivka heard his voice, as though from a vast distance, saying, “Now, vhenan. Be with me here and now.”

The floodgates tore open there and then, as she screamed to the high heavens, her palms digging into the table as she ignored the last of his commands, slamming her rear into his hips to drive herself over the top, feeling her own fluids flood her pussy, mixing with his as they dripped out of her and along her thighs, trickling downwards to stain her slippers and, ultimately, the floor of Solas’ study.

Rivka flopped bonelessly onto the surface of his desk, breathing hard and quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, even as she felt him withdraw at last, the final strands connecting the two breaking in the middle and falling upon the ground.

Long moments passed before, in the blink of an eye, she found herself transported back into her own bed, all offending fluids cleaned up, and naked under her sheets. Rivka gasped, sitting up and turning around to find Solas next to her under the bedcovers, also similarly undressed.

Smiling, he asked her, “Was that everything you expected it to be?”

Her cheeks flushed, Rivka nodded wordlessly as she slowly regained her composure, finally managing to answer, “Yes. I…didn’t know if it’d all work out but…you were so commanding, and it felt so right.”

“I’m glad you appreciated it,” he said, asking, “Although I do wonder if all of your fantasies are this…vivid?”

“What do you mean?”, she asked, it apparently being her turn.

“Simply that there are few whom I have known or met would so willingly…let themselves be used, as such,” he said.

Rivka asked in equal parts hesitance and defensiveness, “You’re not judging me, are you?”

“Not in the least,” Solas answered quickly. “I just was curious as to whether your own romances in the physical world ever took such turns as our times together here have.”

She shook her head, explaining, “No, the last time I was…with someone…was shortly before the Conclave. We’d both been dispatched by our clan to attend the Conclave, and we both knew it’d be the last time we’d see each other for a while, if at all. He was a nice lad, and we spent the night beforehand gently and tenderly.”

“I see,” he said, then coming to a realisation. “If you were both at the Conclave then…”

Rivka nodded her head slowly and sadly, confirming his deductions. “Ismael didn’t make it. Neither did his brother Esaias.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Solas said. “Forgive me for dredging that pain up again.”

She now shook her head curtly. “It’s alright. It hurts less nowadays. But you’re right, I think. I’m only this…adventurous…in the Fade. I don’t know if it’s the Fade itself inducing this, or…”

“…your thoughts about me?”, he asked.

“You know me too well,” Rivka said with a laugh. “Still, thanks for bringing me somewhere warmer and cozier after all of that. Have we time to just…lie here a while?”

Solas smiled, saying, “We have all the time we want or need, vhenan. Come over here.”

Taking him up on his invitation, Rivka slid down the bed and rolled over until she was close enough to put her arms around him, and him hers, burying her face in her shoulder and relaxing into his body as the minutes before the sunrise, and the inevitable return to their responsibilities in the daytime, slowed to eternity.

@dadrunkwriting

#rivka lavellan #Solas #solavellan #f!lavellan/Solas #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #aether effect #smut #ao3 #prompt fic #fanfic #athenril-of-kirkwall #dadrunkwriting #da drunk writing circle

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garpie64 · 5 years

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Tag Game

Rules of the game: Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to get to know better

I was tagged by the wonderful @primeemeraldheiress and @j-a-n-e--d-o-e

Nickname: Gar

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Height: 5′3″ (I’m so damn short it hurts)

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw (I think? I’m not a Harry Potter fan)

Last Thing I Googled: Front opening terrarium 36in (my hermit crabs deserve a bigger tank)

Song Stuck in My Head: Monsters by Shinedown

Following: 32

Followers: 77

Amount of Sleep I Get: 7 or 6 unless my brain decides not to shut down and then I’ll go 24hrs without any sleep

Lucky Number: 8

Dream Job: Writer

Wearing: Old PJ bottoms and a random wolf t-shirt

Favorite Song: Monsters by Shinedown | Lonely by Nathan Wagner | Far From Home by Sam Tinnesz | Lost in the Moment by NF (It’s currently a tie between these four)

Instruments: I love music and nearly every genre, but I am garbage at making it.

Random Fact: I have spent over 15 years creating an original universe to fit my original works with its own creation story, history, cultures, worlds, etc. The file is over an inch thick.

Aesthetics: Comfortable and functional, ocean calm before a storm, art deco, muted or unique colors, honestly whatever catches my eye

I’m not exactly the best at social interaction, but...

@excuseme-howdareyou @sadghostgirl001 @dn-ky @jaysonstodd @fluerallinmylis @quineon @thatfangirlyouknowdownunder @run-on-love @the-quiet-carrotcake @i-love-alot-of-fandoms @winterfoxwrites @warrior-of-the-blue-moon @thereasonwaldoishiding @whumpbby @rivkae-winters @marvelmayo @gunterzeninja

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beyondconfessor · 4 years

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Mermaid’s Kiss

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Sorceress/Mermaid

Summary: When Sabine accidentally teleports into the depths of the ocean, she doesn't expect to be saved by a mermaid.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

Mistress Rivka's pale eyes followed them around the room. A scowl etched on her face as she watched the sorceress in the centre of the room.

"Again," she demanded.

Eloise swallowed and opened her hand, her arm shaking underneath the power as she squeezed her eyes shut and curled her fingers, summoning a teleportation circle. The portal shifted, fluctuating with her magic before it collapsed on its self.

Rivka swept her hand across the air, and the girl flew back against the wall, in line with the other acolytes.

"Sabine," she summoned. "The beach."

Sabine stepped forward. Electricity shot down her spine, magic unfurling inside of her as her stomach clenched. She drew a deep breath and then shot out her hand and curled her fingers, summoning a teleportation circle as she thoughts of the rocks at the academy's east, the waves that smashed against them and the seashells she'd dug from the sand.

The smell of salt water filled the room as the circle grew bright and held steady. Rivka stepped forward and looked it over before nodding for Sabine to step upon it.

Sabine nodded and stepped onto the circle's surface. It felt like glass beneath her bare feet, the coldness chilling against her skin. Then, casting her hand high into the air, she dropped the barrier and fell through the circle.

It was like falling in darkness. Wind from the netherworld ripped around and then she fell through the other side, crashing against coldness. All around her, the world was dark as she sunk in what first seemed like the night sky, but Sabine realised was the ocean.

Her circle had been off. How far off?

She tried to summon another circle, but the magic hissed away. There was no surface to hold against it, and they hadn't yet learnt other forms of teleportation.

Sabine stared up, looking for the surface, listening for the roles of thunder, but only water and the sounded of her heartbeat filled her ears.

She spun around, looking for a light, but was met only with darkness. She was going to drown.

Five years of education and this was how she was to die? An imperfectly cast circle? Sabine felt her rage grow inside of her. No. She refused. All of that pain, all of that loneliness and anger, it had to be for something.

She knew that there was no spell within her ability to help her breathe. There were potions, but she had none on her body. There was nothing in her pockets except her handkerchief and silver thread.

Her lungs were beginning to burn.

She needed to know where the surface was.

Taking the handkerchief and thread from her pocket, she stuffed it between her hands. Thinking the incantation over and over in her head, she felt her magic weave into the silver thread, enchanting the handkerchief.

As her hands separated, the handkerchief floated in the water casting a bright light. Sabine looked around the ocean, her vision blurred by the sea before she caught the glimmer of waves beneath her.

Taking the handkerchief, she swam towards the assumed surface. As the light glimmered against it, she tried to discern the depth. One hundred metres, fifty? She couldn't tell.

Whatever it was, it was far. She would run out of breath before reaching it.

Undoing her dress, she pushed it off and placed a hand over her shift, casting a buoyancy charm into its threads. Feeling pulled by the current, she kicked up and swam towards the surface, guided by the enchanted handkerchief.

Her breath escaped, pushed from her lungs and bubbled around her as she swam. Her lungs burned, her limbs ached, and a dreadful thought wondered - what if she was wrong, what if this wasn't the surface?

Was Mistress Rivka just standing in the great hall, waiting for her return? Had she realised where she transported and tried to summon her back to no avail? Or was it like when Moira's fire had spread out of control and consumed the entire room before help could occur?

Was that how she was to die, a simple mistake that had gone awry, leaving her to become a cautionary tale to other sorceresses...

Her heartbeat was loud in her ears.

There was nothing in room worth memories: a comb, ribbons, some dresses and shoes. There was no secret graffiti she'd left on the dresser that marked her life. Nothing etched on the bed or on desks to say I was here. I existed.

She had to live.

With a push of adrenaline, she broke the surface and air hit her lungs. The cold stung, and the waves pushed against her, but she was here, on the surface.

The handkerchief's light dimmed, and Sabine looked around. She couldn't make out much aside from an occasional flash of lightning in the distance. Her heart sunk as she saw nothing but a vast expanse of the ocean. No rocks, no landmarks, no land...not even a boat.

She would die alone.

Sabine took the handkerchief, feeling a wave of exhaustion take her as the magic use depleted her reserves.

Cold and tired, her magic depleted and with no help in sight, it seemed hopeless.

And yet, she could breathe. One problem solved.

She floated on the ocean, the waves rocking her. With the last of her magic, she re-cast the buoyancy spell with the verbal incantation to increase its strength. It had seemed like such a stupid spell to learn at the time, and yet here she was, casting it. It had probably saved her life and would help to survive as she rested.

Sabine closed her eyes, her ears beneath the water, drowned to the noise of the thunder far above.

Her thoughts sunk, drifting in darkness. She thought of Moira who had only wanted to light a candle without getting out of bed.

Something cold and wet slipped over her ankle.

Flailing, Sabine shot around, looking for the cause and felt movement underneath her. Her body began to shake, wandering what creature had found her.

A drowned soldier, perhaps, cursed to wander Davy Jones Locker? Or a champion of some ocean god.

A dark shadow rose in the water beside her and two eyes peered through. Then a mouth and sharp teeth.

"Hello," the mouth said, in the same language she spoke.

"Hello," she returned.

The creature's face was humanoid, her eyes were big and had iris the colour of amber, almost glowing in the night. Her teeth were not sharklike as she first thought, but somewhat humanoid. As she opened her mouth, Sabine realised it was only the canine teeth that were long and sharp, with the top row sitting neatly against the bottom's, like a wolf's.

"You seem lost," the figure said.

"I am."

"Did your boat crash?"

"No, I cast a teleportation circle and fell into the ocean instead."

The figure cocked her head, before whispering 'teleportation circle' under breath, as if trying the words for the first time. "Interesting," she said. "It was nice to meet you." And then she ducked underneath the water.

"Wait," Sabine cried out, before sinking underneath the water to look for her.

The humanoid figure swam back towards her, as she did, Sabine realised she didn't have legs, but a long tail. It was not fish-like as she expected from stories but similar to a dolphin's tail. The figure swam back to the surface, and Sabine followed, looking at her with a new fascination.

Her face was very humanoid, she had dark hair like Sabine, but its shade was difficult to tell with the dim light around them.

"Yes?" the mermaid asked.

"Do...do you know where land is?''

"I do," she said. "There's an island not far away." She pointed over to the left of Sabine, over the horizon. "Will you give me something if I take you there."

Sabine considered lying, but decided against it. "I do not have any money or jewels."

The mermaid looked confused again, cocking her head. "What about that," she said, pointing to the handkerchief that was in Sabine's grip. "Will you give me that?"

"This, but it's ––" she stopped herself, swallowing back the words. "Of course, if that is what you want."

The mermaid smiled. "A deal then, I will take you to the island, and you will provide me with the square." The mermaid then swam forward so that Sabine could feel her warm breath on her skin. "Take a deep breath, and then do not let it go."

Sabine stared into the dark eyes before nodding. She took a deep breath.

The mermaid leant forward and kissed her. As her lips touched, a shot of electricity crackled over Sabine's. Magic, she realised, as it shot through her mouth, down her lungs and seared through her like no enchantment she had experienced.

When the mermaid pulled back, she gave a small nod. "Keep a hold of it. It should last a while now."

Then the mermaid took her hand and pulled her deep in the ocean. As she did, Sabine removed the buoyancy charm to allow her self to move through the water easier.

Seconds passed, and at first, Sabine worried about her air supply, but seconds turned to minutes, and the enchantment held. Not only that, but her body felt warmer, and even her vision had become sharper in the depths, picking up movement and shapes where previously there had been only darkness.

Sabine had never known any magic like that. Outside of potions of underwater breathing, or transformation, there was nothing. It was incredible!

Everything she knew about mermaids was based around myths. The merfolk were notoriously recluse from humans, especially with magic users who had often hunted them for ingredients. Even Sabine knew that a mermaid's tongue was the key ingredient in a powerful charisma potion, often sought by kings when making negotiations. Nothing she'd heard had spoken about their ability to charm those with a kiss.

As they swam on, the magic began to wane. At first, she felt cold, and then she felt her lungs begin to constrain. Struggling, she tugged at hand the mermaid's holding hers.

The mermaid looked and nodded, bringing her to the surface where Sabine let go of the air and drew in a new breath. She turned to the mermaid, laughing. "That was incredible!" she said. "Truly incredible."

"It is not. If it were, you would have been able to hold your air for at least a tide."

"A tide...as in... How many hours are a tide?"

"I don't know. How long is an hour?"

Sabine went to explain, before realising that the mermaid was unlikely to understand minutes and seconds if she didn't understand tides. "It doesn't matter," she said instead. "I still believe it was truly an incredible use of magic."

The mermaid's face softened, her eyes sparkling in the light.

"Take a deep breath," she advised.

Sabine followed, and this time felt her heart beat faster as the mermaid swam up and cupped her hands to her cheek. Soft lips pressed to hers and Sabine's own parted, her eyes falling shut at the touch. It was a longer kiss than before, and Sabine felt the familiar rush of sparks cascade down her tongue, through to her lungs, before the mermaid pulled away.

"Don't let go," the mermaid said and then retook her hand, diving into the depths of the ocean.

As they swam, Sabine began to see the bottom of the seafloor, and with it, different sea creatures.

There were fish swimming in schools, crabs that floated along with the current. There were even strange snakes that would shift to the colour of sand and disappearing from view.

And then, Sabine felt her heart slow as she saw a massive fish that turned and began to curl their way.

Except it wasn't just any fish, Sabine could tell by its silhouette that it was an enormous shark. It looked to be three times Sabine's length, if not more.

Sabine tugged as the mermaid's hand and pointed to the shark.

Sabine looked surprised and then began to swim towards the shark. Sabine tugged at her hand, felling terror but the mermaid pulled back, her other hand making different shapes as she tried to communicate with Sabine.

Whatever she was saying, Sabine wasn't sure, but she followed the mermaid's lead and allowed herself to be tugged along, knowing her option would otherwise be alone with no certainty of where she was going.

As they grew closer, the shark swam up, and Sabine curled behind the mermaid, watching as the shark's mouth parted and then...bumped its nose against the mermaid's shoulder.

The mermaid reached out a hand, stroking against the shark's body. She pulled Sabine up towards her and then, wrapping one arm around Sabine's waist, used the other to take their entwined hand to run across the shark's body as it swam around again.

It was...rough. Different to how she expected. The shark swam around them once, and although Sabine still found her stomach was tied in knots, she felt her heart slow down. The shark nudged against them curiously and insistent for another pet against its side.

Twice more it swam around, even allowing them to brush against its belly.

Sabine turned around to show the mermaid her excitement at the creature. The mermaid smiled at her through the water and Sabine watched as her long hair flew around her face, giving her a strange, ethereal appearance. Desperately she found herself wishing that she need more air, but she did not. She was still able to hold her breath.

The mermaid took her hand and swam away from the shark, gently brushing against the creature a final time before dragging Sabine further through the ocean.

All at once, the floor shelf rose like a mountain they flew across. Here, Sabine could see coral and array of multicoloured fish. There was jellyfish that swam around, an eel that ducked out and attacked a bright coloured fish, only to miss it, and a small octopus that bobbled through the vegetation.

The surface grew close too, and then the mermaid brought her to the waves where Sabine could stand on the bank and keep her head out of water.

Looking forward, she spotted the island and its trees. It wasn't large, but there was plenty of grass that she could use to cast a teleportation spell once she had rested.

Sabine began to walk, before stopping and turning to the mermaid who was swimming beside her. "Do you have to leave?" she asked her.

"My family will wonder where I have been if I don't return in a few days. I was only out to look for treasure."

Sabine's heart fluttered. "So, you could stay for tonight?"

"The night is almost over," the mermaid said, looking out to the sky that remained spotted with storm clouds. "But I will stay until dawn."

"Please," Sabine said. She moved, to sit in on the shore, where it was deep enough for the mermaid to sit in, but Sabine watched as the mermaid rose and stood tall above her, easily a foot higher than herself.

"Oh," Sabine said. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Only during moonless nights," she said. "I'll need to return at dawn."

Sabine nodded and began walking over to the island. Grabbing some of the driftwood she found, she stacked it against the bank and then cast it alight.

"You're a mage," the mermaid said.

Sabine turned and looked at her. The mermaid had pulled away, stepping back towards the water. "No, please don't go. I promise I won't hurt you."

The mermaid looked hesitant. "Mages are said to hunt our kind."

"Mermaids are said to drown us," Sabine returned. "But you saved me."

The mermaid crossed her hands over her naked torso, tossing long dark tendrils of hair over her shoulder. Her brow furrowed before she nodded and stepped forward. "As you say."

Sabine let out a relieved sigh and sat down by the fire, the mermaid came to sit beside her but keeping three feet away.

Taking a long stick, Sabine stoked at the fire. "I'm sorry I scared you."

The mermaid shook her head. "You need not apologise. Mages are as varied as we are and I should recall that. You seem kind. I hope you are kind."

Sabine smiled. "I hope so too. Mages are often...conceited in their view of the world. They rarely work well with others and prefer an isolated living. I don't think I could bear the loneliness that would bring."

"You don't like being by yourself?"

"No. I want to share the world with someone. Have someone to talk to about exciting the things I see and discuss knowledge and politics and the world. An isolated life may suit some, but it seems lonely to me."

"Is that why you cast your circle?"

"No. I cast it because I'm studying to become a great sorceress," she said. "I had wanted to be the first to cast a transportation circle. Instead, I will be a cautionary tale to the other acolytes."

"But you will return?"

"Mm. The punishment for failure is...it's meant to prevent you from making a mistake again. I will first learn why I failed and then I will be punished. Makes me want to stay on this island forever, but...then I won't become great. I'll just be...this. It's not enough."

The mermaid stared into the flames, contemplating her words. "You want to be a sorceress. A great one?"

"I do. More than anything."

The mermaid nodded. "I want to discover the world, but our god says that our kind must remain together or become banished. We can only leave for a few days at a time."

Sabine wondered at her words. "Does your god speak to you?"

"Sometimes. On our nameday, we're greeted, and in our seventeenth cycle, we are permitted to meet for a favour. Otherwise, only the Della are allowed to speak to him."

"Della? Are they like priests?"

"In ways. The Della are our law. They speak to our god and provide guidance to those in need."

"Oh. Like a king?"

The mermaid face scrunched up as if to disagree, but she didn't speak. Sabine was thankful for it. She didn't wish to discuss it further and look like a fool.

"It's a warm night."

"It is," the mermaid agreed.

In the firelight, her hair looked indigo in colour, it glimmered in the light, at times sparkling like jewels as droplets of water gathered in its locks.

Sabine reached out and touched against a strand that had stuck to the mermaid's cheek. As she moved it, it curled wetly against her fingertips. The mermaid turned and looked at her, an intense expression on her face as she stared back at the sorceress.

"You are beautiful," the mermaid whispered.

"As are you," Sabine said back, feeling her fingers begin to shake.

The fire made a loud crack, and Sabine's hand shot back to the sand, looking away from the mermaid. The mermaid didn't say anything, only turned back to look at the fire.

"Dawn will be here before the tide finishes," the mermaid said.

"Oh, well, before I forget," Sabine said, taking out the handkerchief, "this is yours for bringing me safe passage."

The mermaid took it in her hands, her fingers touching over the embroidery of stars and moons. "What does this say?" she asked, gliding her fingers to the other corner's stitching."

"Sabine. Most girls have their initials, but I only have one name. It seemed silly to stitch the letter 'S' by its self." She said, pointing to the embroidery, "So I did my whole name."

"There are women with other names?"

"Some. Three names mean your blood's important. Two means your family did something special. If I become great, I'll be provided with a last name that stands for my work. Then I will be allowed passage to wherever I please."

The mermaid's face furrowed, but she nodded as if to say she grasped part of its elements. "Sabine," she echoed. "It's a pretty name."

"What's yours, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Orra," she said. "I have eight older sisters. I believe it was a joke."

"Eight?" Sabine said. "Your parents must have been trying for a son."

"Son? Mm, no. Sons are given back to sailors. They do not have...tails."

"Oh...so...do you have brothers?"

"Maybe. Sons are just human, so we don't worry."

"Then who's your father?"

Orra shrugged. "If we choose to bear a child, sometimes we will walk the land on a night like this. Sometimes we find sailors at sea and meet them on their ship at night, while others sleep."

"Oh..."

"Sometimes, we find them in shipwrecks though, and we take them to shore."

Sabine nodded, fiddling with the grass she sat on. "Must be hard."

"I don't want to breed though," Orra said, looking at her. "But I had hoped to find a shipwreck."

"For treasure?"

"Sometimes," Orra said, playing with the handkerchief. "There are other things I look for."

"Like what?"

"Sometimes, there are women."

Sabine's brow furrowed before she realised what she meant. "Oh!"

"We have until sunrise. We can just talk if you wish."

Sabine nodded before shaking her head. "No, I mean yes, I would love to talk but..." and then she trailed off, staring at the mermaid. "Orra, I...I haven't been intimate w-" Orra kissed her. A long deep kiss that felt as though the world had paused around them.

The mermaid's hand drew over her face, pushing the damp hair from Sabine's cheek. "I enjoy your company, Sabine. I would very much enjoy your company until dawn if you would so wish."

Sabine felt her heart race and eyes fall shut as she nodded again, parting her lips to kiss her. "Yes," she whispered against the woman's lips. Then again, "yes," as the mermaid gently laid her back on the ground before climbing atop of her.

When dawn was close, the mermaid rolled from her side, gently awakening Sabine with a kiss. "Farewell Sabine."

"I hope I find you again."

"As do I," she whispered before rising to her feet. Sabine followed, walking to the shoreline and watching as Orra dive into the ocean, returning to her form. The mermaid turned and looked back, smiling the last time before she sunk beneath the waters, just as the sky began to turn pink and gold.

Sabine stayed on the beach for a while longer, until her heart eased from the farewell.

Then, with the sky turning blue, she stood steady, and pulled her hand out and thought of great hall, of its stone walls and ground and the twenty-one windows that cast along it its sides. She opened her hand and summoned the transportation circle and fell away, landing on a stone-ground with a sudden thump.

There were a great many gasps as she painfully rose to her feet. Standing in a semi-circle around her was the same class she left. It had still been a day that has passed, but they were nonetheless surprised to see her.

"Sabine," Mistress Rivka said, casting with her left hand. At once, Sabine found herself dressed in a set of clothes she had previously had hung up in her wardrobe. "You're late."

"I-" she felt like explaining or arguing or just shouting in general, before she nodded at the mistress. "I apologise. It will not happen again."

"Return to your place."

Sabine nodded and returned to her place amongst her cohorts. Taking a deep breath, she watched as Mistress Rivka returned to her lecture as if Sabine had not been missing for a day.

"We thought you were dead," Eloise said beside her.

"I survived."

"Where did you go? Rivka tried to summon you back, but all we got was seawater and fish. She said you must have teleported to the ocean."

There was a silence as Mistress Rivka stared at them both. Eloise quietly stood tall and returned to focusing on her. With a last look, Mistress Rivka began to speak again, but Sabine found she could barely concentrate. All her mind considered was the sweet sound of Orra's voice as she hummed against her collarbone.

Maybe, if she became great, she could find her again. After all, she had her handkerchief.

#mermaid #sorceress #original character #original fiction #morgan writes

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porcelain-rob0t · 7 months

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yayyyy rivka we love rivka yippeeee

i will draw a MS paint 100% saturation version of her for the vibez

#art #digital art #my art #fursona #furry oc #furry #anthro #wolf #timber wolf #rivka the wolf #persona #putting the persona in personality disorder #oc #original character

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thedamagedss · 5 years

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So I roleplay on another website and I use ST a lot for character faces because lets be honest, she’s bae. Haha.

No but honestly, she just fits the profile of the characters I’ve created and I just wanted to share a few manips from some of the characters I play as.

The first photo is a wolf-shifter named Saoirse who’s background I haven’t fully developed yet.

The second second is my oldest character I’ve ever written as; the Greek goddess, Persephone. She was the first character I ever created myself.... kinda. Still somewhat canon to her story but I’ve completely taken her and made her my own. She’s my baby honestly. I’ve been writing as that character for.... 15 years or so? But anyway, her face constantly changes as she evolves.

The last few pictures are all from the same character. Born with the name Rivka, goes by the name Ava. She’s a demon with an incredibly intricate backstory. She’s who I call “hell’s bounty hunter”. She collects souls who have escaped death and/or found some way out of purgatory. But she herself as the most canon history out of any of my original characters.

Unlike Persephone, Rivka/Ava was completely made from scratch. She is still a work in progress but for the most part, unlike Saoirse, Rivka/Ava is a more complete character.

Anyways, Enjoy these lovely edits! :)

PS. Enjoy my little addition of my Rivka/Ava character and Lucifer. XD Totally had to use Aidan for him! <3

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yhwhrulz · 1 year

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Worthy Brief - January 11, 2023

Pass the test, run the drill!

1 Peter 4:12 Beloved, don't be astonished at the fiery trial which has come upon you, to test you, as though a strange thing happened to you.

1 Corinthians 3:13 each man's work will be revealed. For the Day will declare it, because it is revealed in fire; and the fire itself will test what sort of work each man's work is.

When I was growing up, we used to have fire drills in school at least once a year. The fire alarm went off, causing you to shake from the sudden loud bell momentarily, but it was only seconds before you knew…. it was only a drill; you really didn't expect a fire. Nevertheless, everyone present was expected to rush out the door (in an orderly fashion) to the parking lot. It was a nice break from class, that yearly fire drill.

These days, we get alerts on our TV from the Emergency Broadcast System. The annoying long "beep" noise is finally followed by the same drill-like announcement, "This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System. If this was an actual emergency …"

These tests are not supposed to be "crying wolf" but actually serious rehearsals to prepare people for an actual crisis should one arise.

Throughout our lives, we face potential or actual dangers, threats, and real crises, various trials. Is it possible to see them as "drills" preparing us for eternity? I think so. Our whole life on Earth can be understood as a trial period, a God-ordained drill, a preparation for the real "fire" which will test every man's work at the judgment seat of Christ; [2 Corinthians 5:10]

Your trials, fiery as they may be, are God's drills, testing, shaping, and preparing you, even equipping you for the good works which will be richly rewarded in the world to come. Fiery trials produce gold, silver, and precious stones. Don't panic, don't succumb to fear, or be discouraged. Pray for the Lord's grace to endure every drill, every test. The Lord is a refining fire; His work in and with you will endure forever, and the rewards will be amazing.

Your family in the Lord with much agape love,

George, Baht Rivka, Obadiah and Elianna (Going to Christian College in Dallas, Texas) Dallas, Texas

Join us on an epic, life changing journey through Israel, - https://worthynews.us12.list-manage.com/track/click?u=b94ae97bb66e693a4850359ec&id=48ca8befd9&e=3d3c649f0ethrough the eyes of those who are well acquainted with the culture, the people and the Land. This is not your average Israel tour— bring your family, bring your friends, and experience the REAL ISRAEL with George and Baht Rivka as your personal hosts.

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sixtyfivehundredinvisiblebirds · 4 years

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What I Read in 2019

Florida- Lauren Groff The Collected Schizophrenias- Esmé Weijun Wang Severance- Ling Ma When Brooklyn was Queer- Hugh Ryan American Sonnets for my Past and Future Assassin- Terrance Hayes The Crying Book- Heather Cristle The Fat Sonnets- Samantha Zighelboim Odes to Lithium- Shira Erlichman The Man Who Spoke Snakish- Andrus Kivirähk Milk- Dorothea Lasky Crow With No Mouth: Ikkyū, 15th Century Zen Master- versions by Stephen Berg Circe- Madeleine Miller Ongoingness: The End of a Diary- Sarah Manguso A Fortune for Your Disaster- Hanif Abdurraqib Lincoln in the Bardo- George Saunders Madness- sam sax There, There- Tommy Orange Palaces for the People: How Social Infrastructure Can Help Fight Inequity, Polarization, & the Decline of Civic Life- Eric Klinenberg Matadora- Sarah Gambito Dept. of Speculation- Jenny Offil Station Eleven- Emily St. John Mandel Loving- Henry Green The Women- Hilton Als The Mars Room- Rachel Kushner Deaf Republic- Ilya Kaminsky The Möbius Strip Club of Grief- Bianca Stone I Like To Watch: Arguing My Way Through the TV Revolution- Emily Nussbaum Hera Lindsay Bird- Hera Lindsay Bird The Story of My Teeth- Valeria Luiselli Overpour- Jane Wong Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places- Colin Dickey How to Cook a Wolf- MFK Fisher Dear Friend, from My Life I Write to You in Your Life- Yiyun Li Bel Canto- Ann Patchett Pachinko- Min Jin Lee How To Do Nothing- Jenny Odell Black Leopard, Red Wolf- Marlon James Little Labors- Rivka Galchen The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers-Bhanu Kapil The Tiger’s Wife- Téa Obreht Umami- Laia Jufresa Homesick for Another World- Ottessa Moshfegh Sag Harbor- Colson Whitehead Salt Houses- Hala Alyan Ugly Music- Diannely Antigua Citizen Illegal-José Olivarez Barbie Chang- Victoria Chang The Bialy Eaters- Mimi Sheraton Under the 82nd Airborne- Deborah Eisenberg The Stone Sky- N.K. Jemisin The Obelisk Gate- N.K. Jemisin Moon: Letters, Maps, Poems- Jennifer S. Cheng Not Here- Hieu Minh Nguyen The Fifth Season- N.K. Jemisin Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit- Jeanette Winterson Engine Empire- Cathy Park Hong My Brother’s Husband vol 2- Gengoroh Tagame Human Hours- Catherine Barnett My Brother’s Husband vol 1- Gengoroh Tagame Kingdom Animalia- Aracelis Girmay Madame Bovary- Gustave Flaubert, tr. Lydia Davis My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness- Nagata Kabi The Abundance- Annie Dillard White Trash: The 400-year untold history of class in America- Nancy Isenberg

#2019 #what I read

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dillydedalus · 5 years

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what i read in july

THAT’S MORE LIKE IT aka i’m finally out of the (relative) reading slump for good & my bro james joyce was there

men explain things to me, rebecca solnit the original mansplaining essay is great, and still scarily relevant; the others in this collection (most on feminist issues) are also quite good; some aspects are a bit dated & problematic so be aware of that. 2.5/5

erschlagt die armen!, shumona sinha (tr. from french, not available in english) short but very impactful novella about a young french woman, originally from india, who works as an interpreter in the asylum system and becomes more & more broken by this system of inhumane bureaucracy and suffering, until she snaps and hits a migrant over the head with a wine bottle. full of alienation and misery and beautiful but disturbing language - the title translates to ‘beat the poor to death’ so like. yeah. 3.5/5

fire & blood: a history of the targaryen family I, george r r martin look, it’s a 700-page-long fake history book about a fictional ruling dynasty in a fictional world, and i’m just That Obsessed & Desperate about asoiaf (and i don’t even care about the targs That Much). anyway, now i know more about the targs than any ruling family from, you know, real history, which is like, whatever. this is pretty enjoyable if you are That Obsessed, although i will say that some bits are much better than others (there are some dry dull years even in everyone’s fav overly dramatic dragon-riding incest-loving family) and the misogyny really is. a lot. too much. way too much. BUT i did really like Good Best Queen Alysanne (her husband king joe harris is alright too i guess) and i found my new westerosi otp, cregan stark/aly blackwood, who both have Big Dick Energy off the fucking charts. 3.5/5 (+0.5 points for cregan and aly’s combined BDE)

the old drift, namwali serpell hugely ambitious sprawling postcolonial nation-building novel about zambia, told thru three generations of three families, as well as a chorus of mosquitoes (consistently the best & smartest parts). there is A LOT going on, in terms of characters, of plot points, of references to history (the zambian space programme) and literature (finally my knowledge of heart of darkness paid off) and thematically, and honestly it was a bit too much, a bit too tangled & fragmented & drifty, and in the end i probably admire this book more than i liked it, but serpell’s writing is incredibly smart and funny and full of electrical sparks 3.5/5

a severed head, iris murdoch the original love dodecahedron (not that i counted). iris murdoch is fucking WILD and i love her for it. this is a strange darkly funny little farce about some rich well-educated londoners and their bizarre & rather convoluted love lives. not as grandiosely wild as the sea the sea, but fun nevertheless. 3/5

midnight in chernobyl, adam higginbotham jumping on the hype bandwagon caused by the hbo series (very weird to call the current fascination with chernobyl a hype bandwagon but you know). interesting & well-written & accessible (tho the science is still totally beyond me) & gets you to care about the people involved. lots of human failure, lots of human greatness, set against the background of the almost eldritch threat of radioactivity (look up the elephant foot & see if you don’t get chills), and acute radiation syndrome which is THE MOST TERRIFYING THING ON EARTH . 3.5/5

normal people, sally rooney honestly this is incredibly engrossing & absorbing once you get used to how rooney completely ignores ‘show don’t tell’ (it works!), i pretty much read the whole thing in one slow workday (boss makes a dollar, i make a dime so i read books on my phone on company time, also i genuinely had nothing to do). i also think rooney is really good at precisely capturing the ~millenial experience in a way that feels very true, especially the transition from school to uni. BUT i really disliked the ending, the book never engages with the political themes it introduces (esp. class and gender) as deeply as it could and the bdsm stuff never really gets TIED UP LOL. so overall idk: 3.5/5

störfall: nachrichten eines tages, christa wolf quiet reflective undramatic little book narrated by a woman waiting to hear about the outcome of her brother’s brain surgery on the day of the catastrophe at chernobyl - throughout the day she puts down her thoughts about her brother and the events unfolding at chernobyl, as well as the double uncertainty she is trying to cope with. really interesting to read such an immediate reaction to chernobyl (the book came out less than a year after chernobyl). 2.5/5

the man in the high castle, philip k dick it was fine? quick & entertaining alternative history where the axis powers win the war, some interesting bits of worldbuilding (like the draining of the mediterranean which was apparently a real idea in the early 20th century?) but overall it’s just felt a bit disjointed & unsatisfying to me. 2.5/5

fugitive pieces, anne michaels very poetic & thoughtful novel about the holocaust, grief, remembrance & the difference between history and memory, intergenerational trauma, love, geology and the weather. i’m not sure how much this comes together as a novel, but it is absolutely beautifully written (the author is a poet as well) and very affective. 3.5/5

american innovations, rivka galchen short collection of bizarre & often funny short stories about neurotic women whose furniture flies away, or who grow an extra breast, or who are maybe too occupied with financial details. very vague & very precise at once, which seems to be the thing with these sort of collections. 3/5

fool’s assassin (fitz & the fool #1), robin hobb YAASS i’m back in the realm of the elderlings!!! i thought this was one of the weaker installments in the series - i still enjoyed it a lot, and Feelings were had, but it just doesn’t quite fit together pacing-wise & some of the characterisation struck me as off (can i get some nuance for shun & lant please?) and tbh fitz is at peak Selfcentred Dumbass Levels & it drove me up the fucking wall. molly, nettle & bee deserve better. still, completely HYPE for the rest of the trilogy. 3.5/5

JAMES JOYCE JULY

note: i decided not to read dubliners bc it’s my least fav of joyce’s major works & too bleak & repetitive for my mood right now AND while i planned not to reread finnegans wake bc……. it’s finnegans wake…. i kinda do want to read it now (but i also. really don’t.) so idk yet.

a portrait of the artist as a young man, james joyce y’all. i read this book at least once a year between the ages of 15 and 19, it’s beyond formative, it is burnt into my brain, and reading it now several years later it is still everything, soaring and searing (that searing clarity of truth, thanks burgess) and poetic and dirty, and stephen is baby, and a pretentious self-important little prick and i love him & i am him (or was him as only a pretentious self-important teenage girl reading joyce can be him - because this truly is a book that should be read in your late teens when you feel everything as intensely and world-endingly and severely as my boy stephen does and every new experience feels like the world changing). anyway i love this book & i love stephen dedalus, bird-like, hawk-like, knife-blade, aloof, alienated, severe and stern, a poet-priest-prophet if he could ever get over himself, baby baby baby. 5/5

exiles, james joyce well. there’s a reason joyce is known as a novelist. this is….. a failed experiment, maybe. a fairly boring play about an adulterous love-square and uh… love beyond morality and possession maybe??? about how much it would suck for joyce to return to ireland??? and tbh it’s not terribly interesting. 2/5

travesties, tom stoppard a wild funny irreverent & smart antic comedy inspired by the fact that during ww1, james joyce, lenin, and dadaist tristan tzara were all in neutral zurich, more or less simultaneously; they probably never met, but in this play they do, as dadaist poetry, socialist art critique, and a james joyce high on his own genius & in desperate need of some cash while writing ulysses, AND the importance of being earnest (joyce is putting on a production of it) all collide in the memories of henry carr, who played algernon & later sued joyce over money (tru facts). not my fav stoppard (that’s arcadia) but it’s funny & fizzy & smart & combines many many things that i love. 4/5

ulysses, james joyce look i’m not really going to tell y’all anything new about ulysses, but it really has everything, it’s warm & human(e) & cerebral & difficult & funny & sad & healing & i always get a lot out of it even tho there’s bits (a lot of them) i’ll never wrap my head around. ultimate affirmation of humanity or whatever. also stephen dedalus is baby. 5/5

dedalus, chris mccabe the fact that this book (sequel to ulysses about what stephen dedalus might have done the next day) exists and was published ON MY BIRTHDAY is proof that the universe loves me.

anyway this is very very good, very very clever, extremely good at stephen (less good at bloom but his parts are still good), engages w/ ulysses, portrait & hamlet (& others) very cleverly & does some cool meta and experimental shit. y’all it has stephen talking to a contemporary therapist about how he’s stuck in joyce’s text which is all about joyce & very little about whoever stephen is when he’s not joyce’s alter ego/affectionate but slightly amused look at younger self and ithaca is an interview w/ the author about how his relationship to his dad influenced his response to ulysses and I’M INTO IT. the oxen of the sun chapter replaces the whole ‘gestation of english prose’ w/ just slightly rewriting the first pages of about 10 novels published between ulysses and now & it does lolita w/ “bloom, thorn of stephen’s sleep, light in his eyes. his sire, his son’ and i lit. screamed. anyway i don’t want to give this 5 stars (yet) bc i think some of the experimental stuff ended up a bit gimmicky & didn’t add that much to the text but fuck. that’s my boy & i want to reread it right now. 4.5/5 ALSO it’s a crime no literary weirdo woman has written ‘a portrait of the artist’s sister’ about delia ‘dilly’ dedalus, shadow of stephen’s mind, quick far & daring, teaching herself french from a 3rd hand primer while her father drinks the nonexistent family fortune away and her older brother is getting drunk on a beach & starting fights w/ soldiers bc he’s a smartarse

#the books i read #long post

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siddysthings · 2 years

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Why Do We Forgive Screwed Up Men? | by Rivka Wolf | Fourth Wave | Apr, 2022 | Medium

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athenril-of-kirkwall · 3 years

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okay lets do this *cracks fingers* Solavellan: oral sex, where they can be overheard and with (optionally) sex pollen

Merry Xmas! Have some filthy, filthy, filth.

Solavellan, “Priapic Venom” (AO3) [Explicit]

“Excellent,” Solas remarked as he observed the elven artifact pulse with the same green energy which emanated from Rivka’s palm. “That should strengthen the Veil here for the time being.”

Clapping imaginary dust from her hands, Rivka said, “I think that’s well enough for one day. I don’t know about you, Solas, but I’ve honestly had it with this wet, spider-infested cave.”

“I concur entirely,” he said, turning away from the waterfall and heading towards the cave’s mouth. “It’ll be pleasant to return to camp and warm up a little by the fires—urk!!

That interruption of the usually unflappable Solas’ exposition had been caused by a vicious bite by one of those spiders which Rivka had been complaining about just now. He and Rivka sprung into action, making short work of the pest and leading it to explode in a mass of viscera and green blood some few moments later.

Wiping some off the gore off her armour, Rivka commented, “Speak of the Dread Wolf and he turns up. Now I’m going to have to wash spider guts off my arm…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned around to see Solas lying on the ground, weakly propping his back up against one of the columns of flowstone in the middle of the cave. He looked even paler than usual, and looked as limp as a puppet with its strings strewn on a floor…with one notable exception, of which Rivka was actively avoiding catching an eyeful as she looked up at him concernedly.

“Vhenan,” he croaked, “I can’t feel my arms.”

“I think I know where all the blood went to,” Rivka said, letting herself finally observe the considerable bulge in his trousers.

“Dear me,” Solas muttered, finally noticing his predicament.

Rivka scrambled to fish an elfroot potion from her belt, uncorking it and dribbling its contents into Solas’ mouth, before stripping her gloves off, followed by the outer layers of her armour.

“What are you—?”, he asked, growing more concerned with every article of clothing she was removing.

“You must have encountered this in one of the more lurid dreams you experienced whilst exploring the Fade,” she explained. “It certainly was mandatory education in my clan, although to be frank…I never expected to ever use this knowledge in my lifetime.”

“Of course I recognise a paralytic poison, vhenan, but what do you mean?”

“This is no ordinary paralytic agent, Solas,” Rivka explained, now completely bare above her beltline except for her undershirt. “You’ve just been bitten with priapic venom.”

Solas’ eyes widened as he spluttered, “Priapic…venom…?”

Rivka nodded gravely. “Creators know what sick purpose the Forgotten Ones had in mind when they imbued animals with the stuff—probably Anaris’ doing, the old pervert—and in other forms it’s a mild aphrodisiac, but right now you’ve been poisoned, and rather sadistically at that.”

“Are you saying that this priapic venom is causing not just my paralysis but…”

“Quite so,” Rivka said. “Who knows how many hunters have met a disastrous and humiliating end thanks to this stuff, unable to relieve themselves to the last.”

“That brings me back to my original question,” Solas said, following Rivka’s gaze to his own belt. “What are you planning to do, vhenan?”

Raising an eyebrow as she reached for another vial, Rivka said, “It’s quite simple. I’m going to relieve you.”

Quivering in outrage as much as his deadened muscles could manage, he protested, “I absolutely refuse! I shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…”

“Solas,” Rivka said sternly. “If this isn’t taken care of, your penis may well be defective for the rest of your life.”

“Nevertheless, I won’t let you give yourself to me, not in these circumstances of all things.”

Guiding Solas to her trousers, which were still belted and buttoned up, she said, “I think you need to relax a little, Solas. I wasn’t about to have a tryst with you in this dank, wet, cave.”

“Then what…?”, Solas asked blearily.

Looking up at him as she squatted back in front of him, Rivka said, “I’m simply going to perform the remedy, unless of course you’d prefer me to summon the nurse from the campsite…?”

Turning the options over in his head and figuring the latter was more mortifying than the former, Solas finally conceded, “Very well, do as you wish.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Rivka said, rolling her eyes.

Pulling his trousers and smalls down, revealing a truly torturous erection, and pouring a vial of Prophet’s Laurel oil over her hands, spreading the lotion on her palms once it was exposed to the chill air. Finally taking a good look at it, Rivka blinked as she appreciated its size. It was…considerably respectable, easily the length of her hand from palm base to fingertip, and wide enough to look proportionate and not, uh, skinny.

Not that she’d seen all that many penises in her life, but she knew enough to recognise one that would cause considerable envy. Maybe she should be spending less time staring at it and, well, doing the necessary treatment.

Breathing on her palms to make sure she wasn’t about to chill Solas with her touch, Rivka got to work, wrapping it with her right hand and slowly pumping it. Blood started rising in Solas’ pale cheeks, which at least was some kind of indication that she was doing it right. Drawing upon her limited experience, she tried a kind of rotating motion at its base with her left hand, then deciding that it wasn’t really working, she settled on massaging his balls.

Hearing a deep groan rise from Solas’ breast, she looked up at him teasingly, asking, “Enjoying ourselves, are we?”

Continued on AO3, because this is 2000+ words about Rivka jerking Solas off and blowing him too. See you there!

@dadrunkwriting

#rivka lavellan #solas #solavellan #f!lavellan/Solas #smut #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #aether effect #prompt fic #ao3 #fanfic #athenril-of-kirkwall #dadrunkwriting #da drunk writing circle

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