Vayal Academy

Here’s Alyx Fartrot, drinking to cope. Denied her revenge, or indeed any satisfaction at all, forbidden from taking even a single swing at Syrene, the deer’s taken to the catacombs as her refuge — Vayal’s catacombs go like, all the way down, which doesn’t make sense (the space should overlap with the Aquatic School, but just doesn’t).

You could do a lot worse than drinking in the catacombs. Once Alyx moved past the obvious question (who’s even buried here???) and the fetid, stale air, she began to enjoy the faded pink brick and the cold slabs, which aren’t comfortable but do feel uncomfortable in that specific way that makes her think they must be good for her back — plus most of them are empty, so no sweeping up dusty bones.

There’s an entrance to the catacombs under the Gahtla Lecture Hall, where most of her Conjuration classes are. In Professor Fiveli’s office — a cramped little closet attached to the hall — there’s a small hinged panel against the back wall, and that leads down to the ‘combs. Alyx discovered it when she was in the Professor’s office for reasons that aren’t important right now.

Anyway, once you crawl down the tunnel you can stand pretty quick. Then turn left, left, right, and basically everything from that point is empty alcoves and vacant shelves; you’ll notice Alyx’s den pretty quick, because a Conjurer doesn’t need to worry about how you get furniture through a tunnel so small you have to crawl. Her claim’s marked with a green bead curtain, the soft hum of music that only sounds good if you’re high, a purple-felted waterbed up on a slab, a well-stocked liquor cabinet, and of course a menagerie of plants in the once empty depressions, which filled up with dirt nice and easy.

“Do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do do.” Alyx mutters along with the music, stinking drunk on account of her near-fatal lack of company. Mae’s off with the Headmistress, again, doing whatever the hell they get up to — probably something tedious and boring; Hattie’s stuck in Diligence with Vila, and that only leaves Nym, who, well, Alyx is drunk enough to admit she’s off the table for the time being because Syrene can hit her over and over and Mae won’t let her hit back — even worse, Hattie agrees with her!

Oh well. At least she’s skipping Professor Mahi’s class; it’s always entertaining when Mahi tries to discipline her. “Do do do do do.” The wine goes down easy, because she brought it into existence that way. No skin this time; a bottle, because it feels more appropriate for drinking underground.

Meanwhile Nymeria Whispwood is living on the other side of the coin — hers is the grass that’s always greener. She’s got no idea what Syrene did — everybody she tries to ask brushes her off — but it clearly worked, because now she can walk through the common room naked and Alyx just puts her eyes down and goes back in her room. Her girlfriend’s essentially playing support; Nym’s never been any good at the whole teasing thing, as much as she enjoys it, but now that Alyx won’t do anything she’s got a lot more space to experiment. Space to do impulsive things like sneak into Gahlta and follow this weird thread in her heart or stomach or maybe even a bit lower, it’s hard to tell for a girl like Nym, who’s only in tune with her body when she’s surrounded by untouched forest and hunting her next meal.

And anyway the pull’s superfluous as soon as she exits the tunnel — she’d recognise the smell of gigglegrass anywhere. It leads her through the bead curtain, to Alyx, reclined on the swaying waterbed totally naked, because of how nice the cool air feels on her fur. Nym’s singsong and oh-so-innocent; “Hi~”

Alyx shoots up and shakes her head. “Oh no, you get the hell out of here.”

“Why? Are you… embarrassed? Maybe I can make things more comfortable for you. Cos you’re such a good friend.” Nym unbuttons her blouse, slowly, leaning over the supine Alyx so her tits are right there.

“Get the fuck outta here, Nym.” She waves her hand, sort of weakly, and this is where things really get confused.

See, Alyx can’t put the right amount of passion behind it because she’s really fucked up, real crossfaded, that real heavy body high that diverts all your energy to thinking about, say, how nice the waterbed feels, or the crisp, cool air; Nym figures it’s because Alyx wants her.

An easy mistake to make, especially when Nym wants Alyx. She isn’t afraid to admit it — she loved fucking the deer, got a little perverse thrill every time she ended up on her back for her. This sort of colours her perception of the situation such that she doesn’t realise she’s skating on thin ice.

Now down to bra and underwear, the elf hefts herself onto the slab, the bed, and straddles Alyx, running a finger down the naked deer’s chest. “I want you,” she whispers.

“You can’t fucking trick me, Nym. She’s watching, isn’t she?”

“I hope not. I don’t want her to hurt you.”

“Nym. Get off me.”

“Maybe if I asked Syrene she’d convince you for me.” She shifts back just slightly, which is all she needs to feel Alyx’s hard dick brush against her ass. “Thank the Forest. I was worried you didn’t like me anymore.”

“Gods, you’re such a bitch.” It’s exceedingly difficult for Alyx to hold it together. In any other circumstances she’d be inside her already. But the whole thing with Syrene has left her genuinely upset; genuinely wounded. Without the release of retaliation she’s just left replaying it in her mind, the terrible helplessness of total immobilisation. Alyx Fartrot doesn’t sub. Unless Hattie and Mae release her she may as well still be cocooned.

Nym grinds her hips and Alyx grunts to stifle a moan. “Inside me, please,” the elf says, “I want you to fuck me so bad.” Gods, life is good. She wins if Alyx fucks her; she wins if she doesn’t.

“You know I can’t.”

“Since when did you let anyone decide what you’re allowed to do. I thought you were cooler than that. No wonder Mae’s been ducking you.”

The thin ice breaks. Alyx finds a burst of strength — she directs all of it to her arm, which lashes up, clonking the empty wine bottle against the side of Nym’s head. “Don’t fucking say that,” she hisses, as Nym collapses on her, dazed.

“Mmf,” Nym grumbles, reaching back automatically to slide her panties down.

“What the fuck are you-”

“Nnf, fuck.” Nym moans, high and loud, as she lowers her hips and feels full once again. “Fuck, you make me feel so good.”

Alyx’s arm dangles off the slab; the bottle rolls across the ground with a tinkling sound like dancers in a dream. Her crossfaded mind tries to remember why she wasn’t allowed to do something that feels so good, and remembers when Nym says “you own this fucking pussy.”

“You’re- fuck, you’re trying to get me in trouble?”

“You own me, baby,” Nym says, pulling the deer into a sloppy kiss as her hips go up and down. “I don’t want anybody but you.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Alyx’s strained whisper is familiar to anyone who’s snuck around high with a friend who’s like, way better at staying quiet than they are.

“Are you gonna cum in me, master? I want it; I want it!”

“Nym, fucking- fucking hell.” If only she still had the bottle. Or Mae’s beautiful magic. She needs to get Nym unconscious, now, before she throws herself into this, which Mae and Hattie are going to scold her for, tell her she promised, and no amount of insisting she didn’t even want to fuck Nym is going to convince them. And like, of course it’s unbelievable. Raped by Nymeria Whispwood? Fucking hell, talk about rock bottom.

“Please please please please please; we can just get Mae to-”

There it is. There’s the strength again, and just in time, too. Alyx wrenches Nym off, lets her clatter to the floor with a thud just as she cums, shooting the stuff all up her chest (fucking hell, what a pain to clean). “Gods fucking damnit.”

As Alyx lies there trying not to connect her physical helplessness with her massive consumption of Genna and wine (since such a connection would give her reason to like, stop, and that’s the one thing she can’t afford right now, not when everyone she loves is so fucking busy), Nym lies on the floor, panting and staring up, thinking wow. I’m finally feeling myself again.

She has no idea how much she’s just fucked up.