The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric bows his head. "I... I get it. Some days I can't get the smell of the whole thing out of my head, it makes sense you can't get past the screaming or whatever. I just... I have a dick in here, I thought it... but it's fine."

[The Iron Bull]

"No," Bull finally manages with a grunt. "Not-- not then. It's-- The women." He falters again, his strangled, pained, voice becoming lost to the maelstrom of emotions inside him once more.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric glances at him sideways, his shoulder-length hair in his eyes. "The... women?" 

[The Iron Bull]

Hunching inwards, Bull grunts an affirmative. When Cedric doesn't respond, Bull pushes himself again. "Breeding. It-- I can't even think of-- Sick."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric's eyes widen. "They tried to breed you?! Like-- like a--" he manages to stop before he says 'livestock' or 'animal', just shuddering. "I'm so sorry, Bull. I didn't know."

[The Iron Bull]

Bull jerks a shoulder, trying to play the horror off. "I can't... I try to not-- I have some-- some tricks but-- They have more."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric is quiet a moment. Then he gets up, moving to put a hand on Bull's cheek. "Hey," he says quietly. "I love you, man. You know that, right?"

[The Iron Bull]

Iron Bull is a simple, honest sort. He doesn't really do fancy or dramatic. So...

"Yes."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You can't get me pregnant. It's not about that. So... do you want... I could give you pleasure. Stupid, simple, selfish pleasure, just because I love you. Would that... help?"

[The Iron Bull]

It's not about that. Just... just some fun. Some pleasure. Some-- Bull twists to the side, hand clamping over his mouth as he swallows convulsively. The tendons of his neck have turned to steel and heat comes off him as his body starts roaring through his body in preparation for a Rage. There's nothing but a dull roar in his ears, a surging sickness in his gut and a prickling of guilt and shame and hatred and loss in his eyes for a good minute or more. By the time that all fades back enough for him to notice anything happening around him, it's too late to hide, much less stop, the tears from falling.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric rests his head against his protector's big, broad chest, taking comfort in his presence even as he tries to reciprocate as best he can. "Alright," he says gruffly. "Alright. Then-- then I think..." he makes a face against Bull's chest. "I think we should talk about it. Both of us. You know. Cindy would want us to."

[The Iron Bull]

It takes a good minute or so, but Bull manages to answer. "Nagging bitch," he agrees, the love and fondness difficult to pick up in his raspy, shakey voice but very much present. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Cedric takes Bull's hand and tugs him to one side, where there is suddenly soft grass for them to lay on, facing the brilliant sky. Cedric lays down at Bull's side, his feet near Bull's head, so they're not looking at each other really at all -- so they can have privacy of facial expression. 

It's quiet for a little bit. Then Cedric starts:

"What gets to me is the smell. Sometimes it just comes back and fills my nose. I hate it. It meant you were hurting and it was all my fault -- I was stupid and clumsy and got caught and you had to suffer for it. Seeing you, here, it's been comforting, because I could tell myself you were okay, you're tough, you got through it. But... but you're not okay. And it's all my fault. I don't know how to live with that," he says, his voice going rough. 

[The Iron Bull]

"Sorry," Bull grunts after a long pause. He sounds... tense. Or perhaps just tightly controlled. "It's not--not as bad as I made it sound."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Tell me about it?" he asks. Begs.