was going through my documents and found a karlach x dammon piece that's never going to get finished, but i did like this snippet of the aftermath of dammon meeting karlach for the first time:
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Once he was alone, Okta brought a bowl of gruel over to him where he’d paused in place over his worktable, feeling oddly unfocused. Restless. Karlach gone, and the hum of the engine fading out in the distance.
“Bowl’s hot,” Okta warned, her hands buffered by worn handkerchiefs. He smiled and took it from her without issue. “Right,” she snorted. “Smith’s hands.”
She had no utensils to spare. He brought the bowl to his mouth and drank from it directly. The heat of it was nothing compared to what had radiated off of Karlach; his face still felt parched, borderline blistered. He briefly entertained the idea of asking around for aloe, then discarded it. None of their group had much of anything left to spare, and the druid merchants were increasingly reluctant to barter with those they’d soon be closing the door behind. That left the old woman selling potions, and if Padrina’s affliction were of any indication, any purported aloe on offer would probably melt the skin right off Dammon’s face.
Besides, he thought absently, if Karlach could handle the heat, then he could too. The thought came out of nowhere, and yet he questioned it not at all: it slotted into place in his mind as neatly as she had.
Instead, he put the bowl, still half-full, down on the worktable. “Any news, Okta?”
Gossip, more like. She knew more of it than any ten of the rest of them, her bubbling pot the natural hub around which they all gathered in small clusters throughout the day. Unsurprisingly the topic on everyone’s lips was the newest group of visitors to the grove. The Githyanki had been hard to miss; Zorru, Okta said, was still shaking like a leaf. Not the kind of person she’d expected someone as upstanding as the Blade of Frontiers to keep company with, but apparently he’d taken to traveling with the Githyanki’s group. The cleric and the pale elf among them were no less sharp-tongued, but the wizard at least was a cheerful sort, amiable and a source of fascination to the children.
Karlach, of course, had drawn attention of her own. “She got Guex to finally hit the training dummy!” Okta snorted. “Don’t know how she managed that. Fool’s still counting his steps under his breath, though. And poor Memnos took one look at her and developed as terrible a crush as ever I’ve seen. Can you blame him? You know he’s—well, not the bravest. And there she comes, taller than the gods and covered with the scars of everything that’s failed to kill her. Pretty, too.”
Dammon could not, in fact, blame Memnos. To call Karlach a statuesque beauty was an understatement twice over. He couldn’t say this to Okta, however, without becoming a new footnote in the gossip she’d recite to the next person who asked, so he settled instead for remarking that Karlach seemed familiar, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.
There was a clatter from his worktable. He glanced down to see Mattis, as if appeared from thin air, looking up at him strangely. He’d ghosted in under the adults’ eyelines while they were distracted—and taken the liberty to finish Dammon’s gruel for him.
The bowl was still wobbling where he’d dropped it. “We saw her fighting!” Mattis said, incredulous at Dammon’s cluelessness. “Back in Avernus. Tearing demons apart like it was nothing.” He wiped gruel from the corner of his mouth, the gesture somehow judgmental. “Was there smoke in your eyes that day or what?”
“Must have been,” Dammon said mildly.
Mattis made a noise of disgust: adults, never paying attention. And then he was off again, vanishing down the slope below the forge. At least he hadn’t pinched the empty bowl on the way. He knew better than to displease Okta. Trying to offend Dammon, however, was apparently fair game.
Okta watched the boy go with a shake of her head. “Never mind that gremlin of a child,” she advised Dammon. “You were always—busy, in Avernus. Distracted.”
He had been. He’d been found to be useful, after all, and put to work almost immediately. He knew he’d spoken to his fellow tieflings during their time in Avernus, but what they’d ever discussed had been scorched clean out of his head by the heat of the forge. His sole overriding memory of that time was one long, seamless expanse of leaning over an unending stream of infernal metals, the hammer coming down and up, devils shouting instructions into his ear. Not a drop of sweat left in him. Swaying on his feet, ready to drop. The metal at last taking shape. The devils no longer shouting, but murmuring to each other. And Dammon, exhausted, the fear long since burnt out of him, somehow feeling very alive.
He still wasn’t sure whether to feel guilty about that or not.
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Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.
I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).
I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!
Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]
Touchable
"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable."
An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?
Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot
Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]
“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”
"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him.
Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.
Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.
He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.
Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.
Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.
Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his.
Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.
Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble.
But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy.
It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.
All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.
Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.
"Hey, soldier!"
A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.
"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."
Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."
"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.
"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.
Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.
"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.
"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.
But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."
"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.
"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach."
"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.
Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it.
"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."
All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.
"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.
"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.
"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."
"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."
What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken.
Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"
Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.
"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.
Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.
He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.
Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.
They both pulled away at the same instant.
"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.
"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.
Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.
"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on.
The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.
Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.
"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.
"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."
"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."
"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.
He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.
She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.
She was extraordinary.
Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.
He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck.
Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.
Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested.
He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.
His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds.
Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.
"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"
He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.
Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit.
Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.
By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.
It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.
When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.
Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face.
Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.
With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.
“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.
His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.
She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”
Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.
Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.
“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.
They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.
“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted.
Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.
She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—
Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.
“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.
Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.
And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.
She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.
After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.
As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again.
This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.
Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart.
Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.
Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body.
After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.
Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."
He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.
Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.
“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly.
Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.
“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”
My recent Heartforge / Kardammon brain rot resulted in a new Spotify playlist created during my morning commute. Enjoy as I go back to writing Astarion fics. xoxoxo.
Rating: T
Karlach x Dammon, background Shadowzel and Durgstarion
Description: a Kardammon shadowlands getting-together fic told mostly from the perspective of Karlach's well meaning but meddlesome friends, featuring Astarion being a nosy wine aunt, the Dark Urge breaking and entering, Wyll being a romance novel enthusiast, and Dammon being perfect.
🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯
Astarion is lounging by the fire, nursing an empty blood bottle. There’s nothing to hunt in the shadowlands: nothing that wouldn’t be worse than nothing, at least, and the blood bottle has been empty since Sul filled it for him yesterday, but he was feeling the need for a prop, and it was all he had on hand.
Their fire roars away outside Last Light. All of the wood in the shadowlands is tumored and twisted, but it’s also dry, so they’ve had an excellent fire every night. Astarion sits as close as he can without singing his boots to get the warmth that he’d otherwise get from a full stomach. The hour is late; everyone else is asleep except him and Shadowheart, and ostensibly Sul, wherever she is. Shadowheart is sitting on her cushion, resting her chin on her fist, and occasionally nodding off. Astarion should probably trance, but the fire is so nice. He swirls imaginary liquid in his empty bottle.
“Hey, Fangs.” Karlach’s voice cracks with sleepiness. “Come here.”
“What do you need now?” Astarion complains, but he does as she asks. She’s sitting up, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.
“C’mere.” She holds out her arm. He takes a suspicious step closer, and she tugs him down to her so she can wrap her arm around him. She’s warm— extremely warm— but as of several hours ago, no longer scalding. She’d taken a break from hugging everyone in the inn and wrestling the dog and owlbear to pass out in her bedroll, and the first thing she wants to do on waking is more hugs. He can’t blame her, but it doesn’t stop him from scowling and folding his arms. He doesn’t move, though, because she’s very, very warm. She pats him on top of the head.
“Watch the hair!” He screeches.
“Rookie mistake, Karlach,” quips a sleepy Shadowheart.
“Sorry.” She gives him space while he preens himself. “I’ll have to make sure I remember next time.”
“Thank you for the consideration,” he says airily. “Not all of us can pomade our mohawks into shape with spit and engine grease.”
“Hey, that’s hurtful.”
“It looks very fearsome, darling, don’t worry.”
Karlach absentmindedly fixes her bedhead.
“Do you want another hug, Shadowheart?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Do you think Dammon would like a hug?”
“Just a hug?” Astarion cocks an eyebrow.
“I mean, I’d be good for more than a hug if he wanted, that’s for damned sure. But even just a hug, to say thank you, if that’s all he wanted. I was so busy hugging all of you that I forgot, and I feel bad. I was nervous, I guess. Real nervous. I already got enough oil all over him just from fixing me.”
Astarion snickers at the double entendre.
“I don’t see why he’d say no,” says Shadowheart.
“You think so?” Karlach perks up. “Wait, to the hugging, or the hugging with our trousers off?”
Shadowheart shrugs. “At least the first one. I suppose you’ll have to find out.”
“What if he says no and I need him to fix my heart again? That would be… awkward. I’d probably end up burning him.” Karlach looks at her lap. “It could be just a kiss if he wanted, or, I don’t know, dinner. Dinner would be nice.” Karlach’s arm starts to get unbearably hot from the force of her blush.
“I don’t suppose you and Sulthari have ever tried dinner, have you, Astarion,” Shadowheart drolls.
“After a manner of speaking, it’s all we ever do.”
Astarion clacks his teeth at her. Shadowheart wrinkles her nose. Serves her right for prying. He does have a private laugh at the idea of Sul at a restaurant: she has the table manners of a tarasque, the poor dear. They’d be out on their asses before the amuse-bouche arrived.
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KARLACH FANTASIZING ABOUT DAMMON IN HER ORIGIN AHHHHHHHH
Narrator: You can't hide it, even from yourself: you are deeply unsettled by that thing in your brain, and you haven't a clue how to cure it.
Player Choice -> While I'm at it, I better find a way to turn down this inferno blazing in my heart.
Karlach, thinking: Dammon seems to have made a good start. I ought to keep him close....Really close. And then, next time he leans in to listen to my heart, I take his chin in my hand and I lift his face to meet mine and I...stop it, brain, this isn't the time!...Is it?
-> It is.
Karlach: So I take his chin in my hand and I lift his face to meet mine and his face softens, like he's seeing me for the first time. "Karlach," he says, straightening. He puts his hand over mine, steps closer to me. Hand on my waist now as he leans in and kisses me so softly, like he's savoring each sensation. His hand moves lower, and he pulls me even closer to him. I'm all nerves now, all starry, as my head explodes, showering him with skull fragments to reveal a mass of tentacles--OH, GODS!
-> OH GODS!
Karlach: Retreat. Abort. Go back. Ugh, why? How do I turn [the parasite] off? [Yawning] Oh wait, I know. [Turns over and goes to sleep]
