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ruukina · 1 year

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WOLFISH

FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least.

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat.

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced.

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world.

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms.

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway.

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid.

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart.

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process.

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home.

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants.

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there.

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh.

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core.

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain.

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan.

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either.

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.”

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body.

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you.

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )

#final fantasy xvi #ffxvi #clive rosfield x reader #clive x reader #clive rosfield #🌙.txt #🌙 seren's writings

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ghost-bxrd · 1 month

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GIRL CODED JASON !!!!! HI HELLO OMG TUMBLR USER AND AMAZING AO3 WRITER GHOST BIRD YOUR POSTS AND STORIES JUST ACTIVATE BRAINWORMS IN MY HEAD 😭😭😭😭 holy fuck hi I'm too shy to come off anon but I love the discussions you've been having, so just chipping in !!!

I love the many many looks on how people interpret him being girl-coded, exploring his feelings towards domestic violence, towards victims, women etc, extremely good points that you brought up ! And I'd like to bring up that on a more meta level, the way his character is treated by DC and by people in canon as a whole is also so... girl-coded ? Going to try my best to articulate since eng is my 3rd language 😔😔 Sorry if it's not consise 😭😭 I have FEELINGS AAAAAAAAAAAA

I think the core of this "girl-codedness" stems from a few things, two things I can point to currently are how he's treated as a victim and fridging. Fridging is the easier one to see imo, it's something that's usually associated with female characters but fits Jason a lot. It's not about him and his trauma/pain being feminine inherently (nothing can be categorised in that way honestly) but how it's dealt with by people and the narrative.

Let's take a look at its counterpart which is 'Dead Men Defrosting' trope coined by John Barton. Here's the source for that: https://www.lby3.com/wir/r-jbartol2.html, and a quote from the Women in Refridgerators website I feel is really encapsulates this whole situation.

"...women heroes are altered again and never allowed, as male heroes usually are, the chance to return to their original heroic states. And that's where we begin to see the difference."

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Additionally, the grief that his death bought is made to be even more objectifying than it should have been. It's made to be Bruce's and everyone else's more than it is Jason's. The image of the dead character is, by necessity, distorted and is served as fuel towards a different character. He's reduced to his death and the pain associated with it is milked for like... 16 yearsish??? A perverted memorial, a perverted memory, an altered legacy. He was just 15. A boy. (Still, I wouldn't say Jason was fridged per say, as the term is created in reference to female characters and they have little to no agency in their stories there, but that 'feel' is there. So I understand where the girl-codedness comes from!)

It’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that are typically associated with feminine characters. It's also about how he's treated since he's not a perfect victim. Every attempt Jason has made to express his pain and his anger just gets him labelled as emotional, unreasonable and hysterical (which are again, unfortunately terms associated with women.)

There's many different points people have brought up about Jason, such as his bleeding compassion as Robin, the tears at the end of UTRH, and so on. Nonetheless, I think there's a lot of nuance that comes with gender discussions, since these things are deeply personal to people, and there's disagreements to be had. And that's cool !! There's many points loads of other people also being to the table that I love !! Contradictions too !!

Anyhow, so many cool PPL and analysis these days,,, ILY ANON WHO BROUGHT UP TITANS TOWER (anonanonanon pls chip in again and my life will be URS) Also ILY TUMBLR USER MAGIC-CRAZY-AS-THIS FOR PUTTING THE WEDDING DRESS IMAGERY IN MY HEAD, ALSO ILY GHOSTBIRD FOR THAT AMAZING REPLY AND ANALYSIS,, I LOVE THIS LITTLE POCKET OF COMMUNITY U HAVE CREATED this is so beloved 🥺🥺🥺💞💞💞💞

All very good points!

I don’t have much to add here except perhaps the argument with the memorial case. You’re absolutely right. I never realized how similar it is to the classic hero trope of protagonist mourning their dead love interest/family and dedicating their entire life to a memory of them, citing the actions they take to be in honor of the dead person.

On one hand, I tend to enjoy that trope. On the other hand with Jason, it all became horribly twisted so very quickly and lead to a hard downward spiral of Bruce having a real assholish phase.

But yeah that’s a whole other can of worms better left unopened for now ksksks.

I’m very happy you’re enjoying this blog 💚 it’s honestly super rewarding to hear people say that when it was one of the main goals to have this be a safe and harmonious space for everyone 💚💚✨

#ghost talks #personal opinion #by no way right or wrong just… existing #obviously it’s also to okay if someone here doesn’t like Jason at all!#totally valid #although with how much I gush about Jason very unlikely around here kskskskks #fandom and ship positivity #harmonious vibes #and a healthy approach to fiction and online interaction #batfamily

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cripplingoptimism · 1 year

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Distractions [3/3]

Gonna wrap this up in 3 parts. Previous here.

Yo, WHAT was happening on Twitter this week?? Every time I opened the app there was a new analysis of the Goddamn couch scene. I didn't think Trigun could hurt me any more and yet here I am in a new spiral over an internet stranger's hot take.

Anywaaaaay, I've had this brainworm way before whatever angst got a hold of Twitter. I've always interpreted Vash and Wolfwood’s relationship as 'right people, wrong time'. But honestly, I love every interpretation of them - platonic, soulmates, lovers, etc. So, through these comics I wanted to show moments during their journey that conveyed the gradual evolution of their relationship (as I head cannon it lmao). Canonically, Vash never gets to tell Wolfwood how he feels and my poor little heart has been in denial about that ever since. So this is my *slight* rewriting of the series of events leading up to Wolfwood's solo journey.

At this point in the manga (ch. 50) I wanted to show that, despite the 7 month time skip, it's like no time has passed between them. They're still comfortable and casual with each other, still seeking the comfort of distractions - Neither of them wanting to shatter the illusion of normalcy in this moment. And I feel Vash would be the first to ask for more when reality comes knocking (through Wolfwood's fist lol).

He knows, even in a best-case scenario, his time with Wolfwood is limited. And while Vash is just as shackled by duty and guilt as Wolfwood, he carries an optimism about him that Wolfwood lacks. He needs Woolfwood to know how he feels so he can live without regret, regardless of the outcome. As such, he takes the leap. Wolfwood, unfortunately, cannot bring himself to share in that optimism. He’s too absorbed in worry about the orphanage, the children and especially Livio. His heart is screaming at him, but he knows he can’t afford to be distracted by his “selfish” desires. So, he rejects Vash by being realistic and hopes he can see that he wants this too, but just can't bear the impending heartbreak due to their circumstances. Vash does see this. He swallows his disappointment and heartbreak, earnestly grateful for the relationship he still has with Wolfwood.

I know my characterization feels like it conflicts with the moment on the couch; Vash can't even look at Wolfwood for that entire scene despite Wolfwood being the one to try and connect with him ("You look better...when you smile."). However, I never saw that moment as Vash rejecting Wolfwood. Not in the traditional sense at least (maybe an inadvertent rejection). Vash wanted more between them (to share his tomorrows), but not like this - not as a deathbed confession. He's heartbroken and grieving and (somewhat selfishly) can't see that Wolfwood just wants to enjoy his last moments with the one person on this planet he can call an equal and a friend.

Speaking of the dreaded couch scene, I don't think I can add anything new to the discourse, but I will say the tragedy for me really lies in all the emotions Wolfwood goes through:

Being at peace with his death ("This is the way you want it?" "Yeah."). It's what he believed he deserved, with all the blood on his hands, and the mutation of his body, he assumed he could never return to his previous life with everyone at the orphanage.

Grieving for his future (confetti). Wolfwood never believed he could be forgiven. The children celebrating his return showed their acceptance of him, welcoming him back regardless of his sins. He was worthy of forgiveness. His guilt prevented him from even entertaining the thought of forgiving himself. There must have been regret in those tears.

Seeking comfort from the one person he grew to truly trust and Vash not being strong enough to give it. I already mentioned this above, but Vash not even being able to look at Wolfwood throughout the entire couch scene tears me up.

From the narrative's perspective, Wolfwood needed to die. And even knowing that, it still absolutely destroyed me (and still does). Not just because he died, but because right before his death, he was given a glimmer of hope - that had he survived the fight with Livio, he would have had a chance at happiness.

Last side note here: I've seen discourse online explaining the entire scene is a metaphor for a wedding and I just wanna say, you'll be hearing from my therapist.

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whimsiandwild · 10 months

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Come To Me: Part Three

Pairing: Durgetash [Gortash x Female!Durge]

Word Count: 2100

Warnings: SPICY SPICY SPICY. They smash, it's spicy. Oral[receiving], vaginal sex, some slightly depraved violence (#justdurgethings)

A/N: I did warn you all I had a dream about this bit, so you've had fair warning. Enjoy :)

Tagging: @durgeteriormotives @syrips @ixora111 @feydstan @neko-rhapsodos @quietdemonuwu @tavs-brainworm @lapinetroses

The disgusting, mutant little creature before her seemed so thoroughly and genuinely delighted to see her that Tav didn’t really know how to respond. It was the ugliest thing she’d ever seen, in a little suit and top hat, but it was strangely endearing. She almost felt some sort of warmth towards it. It was then that she decided she had well and truly tipped over the edge; her actions tonight had already been proof enough of that.

“Wh- what are you?” she squeaked, clearing her throat as she scooted back away from it.

“Sceleritas Fel, forever at your service, my depraved mistress,” He swept his hat off as he fell into a deep bow, straightening only after he’d felt was an appropriate amount of respect. “I have been praying every day to your father that you might finally have need of me again, and here you are! As messy a pup as I ever remembered.”

He gave a strange laugh and Tav stared down at the mutilated corpse, giving a small shriek and dropping the remaining flesh to the floor as a full blown panic set in.

“Oh gods! What have I done?”

“It is only your nature, mistress, do not fret. I shall have things tidied and taken to the temple before sun’s light.”

“Temple? What… what are you talking about?!”

“Why, your father’s temple, of course, my rotted lady! The Temple of Bhaal, beneath this very city. Unfortunately, Orin has stolen your seat but I look forward to the brutality you shall bestow upon her when you return home.”

Her mind was spinning. This was too much to process, and it proved that Gortash hadn’t lied to her. That was the thing that was surprising her most, not her actions or her deplorable butler, the fact that this man had been completely honest with her. He was the first and only person so far who’d been open from the start.

“What am I supposed to do? Hey!” She snapped a bloody finger in front of his face, the thing muttering to himself about clean up processes. “If you’re sworn to me or whatever, bloody well help me!”

Sceleritas pondered for a moment before sighing; he seemed most disgruntled. A hand slipped inside of his suit jacket and handed her a potion, a silvery concoction in a diamond-shaped vial.

“Take this, it should give you enough time to get to him,” he grimaced, Tav lifting a brow at his comment. “He will help you. Your Gortash,” The words made her stomach flip; her Gortash. “Drink the vial and go straight away. I will return to you at some other time, mistress.”

He dipped into another bow as Tav stood, eyeing the vial as she did. Pulling out the stopper, she paused before it could hit her lips.

“Um.. Sceleritas?,” She smiled as his head snapped up, his eyes huge as he gazed at her in adoration. “Thanks.”

Swallowing down the potion in one; it wasn’t as pleasant tasting as it looked; and tossed the vial to the floor, the butler scurrying to retrieve it. Her entire body tingled but that was about it; she wasn’t exactly sure what it had done, if had done anything.

“Remember, mistress, this will last an hour unless you attack or use magic. Do take care, my lady.”

Turning his back to her, Sceleritas began his work, Tav watching him for a few seconds more before exiting.

It was only as she had walked along the streets of Baldur’s Gate that she had realised the use of the potion. It occurred to her that walking around, covered head to toe in gore might not leave the best impression upon guards and townsfolk but everyone she’d walked past had ignored her, like she wasn’t even there. Tav had soon caught her reflection in a window, or lack there of; he’d given her an invisibility potion. She really would have to find a better way of thanking him.

Slipping past Heram and his fellow guard, Tav had to be stealthy as she pulled open the doors leading into the ceremony hall. She tripped a couple of times, knocking some boxes flying, much to the surprise of the dozing guards on the benches. Thankfully, she made it to the top, to Gortash, within about half an hour of drinking the potion. Now, however, she had a different problem. She opened his door a crack and squeezed through before closing it as quietly as she could. Unfortunately for her, his hearing was impecable.

“Who’s there? Who has the audacity to enter my chambers without permission?”

Tav couldn’t help but giggle at the authoritarian tone of his words, Gortash storming into the foyer and looking around. When he found no one waiting for him, he was immediately defensive, picking up a letter opener before venturing further into the room.

What was she supposed to do? What had the butler said? Attack or… A switch flipped in her mind and she raised her hand, trying desperately to remember the incantation Gale had taught her. Eventually, a tiny flame of light appeared on her palm, Gortash jumping out of his skin as she reappeared from nothing. His jaw dropped as he took in her appearance, the knife dropping with a clang to the floor.

“Enver,” she whispered, the severity of the situation resting heavily on her suddenly, tears brimming her eyes. “Help me.”

Gortash had jumped into action the moment she’d uttered the words, hiding her behind a column as he ordered for two baths to be drawn in his quarters, no questions asked, and there would be consequences for anyone who entered for the rest of the night. Dire consequences.

That was how Tav had ended up in this second bath, her knees curled into her chest as Gortash ran thick fingers through her tangled hair, cleaning it of mess. His shirt and gloves were tossed to the side, along with her own ruined clothing. She’d glanced at them a few times, thinking how easy it would be to take the netherstone and run, but she didn’t want to.

Resting her cheek on her arm as he dried his hands off, she stared blankly at the other tub, the water crimson and filled with god knows what that had come off of her; it’s why he’d ordered for two.

“You hair is once again luscious and clean, kitten,” he informed her, his fingers running delicate patterns over her back that gave her goosepimples. “Are you alright? It must have been quite a shock.”

“I don’t know what came over me. Sceleritas seemed thrilled by it,” she told him, feeling completely defeated.

“Ah, the butler,” Enver gave a cold laugh, disdain in his voice as he spoke. “He never liked me, you know. I always thought he coddled you too much. You didn’t need coddling.”

“What did I need?”

Silence fell and he was by her side, lifting her head with gentle fingers so they were eye to eye.

“Love. And it’s what I gave you. Until the very end.”

He was so earnest, so serious, that she could have wept. Their connection was so strong, so intense, but she still felt he was a stranger. She allowed her hand to cup his cheek for a moment, Gortash eagerly leaning into the touch like a man starved.

“Would you still give it to me now? Knowing what a monster I am?” she frowned, sniffing back tears as she stroked his temple with her thumb.

“In an instant,” he replied at once, clutching her hand in both of his and placing it over his heart, Tav clawing at the rough hair beneath her fingers. “And you’re not a monster. I’ve never thought so, at least. You are a force to be reckoned with, Bhaal’s chosen and favourite. I would forsake Bane to keep one as extraordinary and beautiful as you by my side.”

“What about the netherstone? Would you forsake that?”

“No,” he said frankly, her face falling. “Only because I would want us to use the stones so we may rule this world. Together. Just like we planned.”

“Enver-.”

“I love you, Tav,” He stressed the words, his grip on her hand almost painful. “I will always love you, whether you regain your memories or not. I am yours and you are mine, and we will rule over Faerûn as we were destined. I love you.”

A quiet sob caught in her throat and she kissed him fiercely, water sloshing over the sides and soaking what was left of his clothes. He returned it in earnest, heaving her out of the water and wrapping her in his arms. He never broke their kiss as he lay her gently on a blanket, everything about the moment enveloping and overwhelming both of them. For her, it was giving in to inescapable fate; for him, it was blissfully returning to the embrace of his lover.

He peppered kisses all over her face, her jaw, her shoulders, slowly working his way lower. The attention he showed her breasts had her eyes rolling, and then he lay his stubbled cheek against her hip, one of his hands running across the soft curve of her thigh.

“Let me taste you, kitten. I need to see if you’re still as sweet as I remember.”

All she could do was nod, not really having the words to offer him as his lips trailed lower and lower until they were at the most sensitive part of her body. He lavished her, worshipped her, had her writhing and squirming under his touch and his tongue, his fingers all too happy to aid in her pleasure. She was hot, her heart racing, and her back arched as euphoria washed over her, her walls clenching around his fingers as she cried out. He moaned against her skin, sending more sparks through her.

“As expected,” he smirked, kissing her hotly before allowing her to lick his fingers clean, hissing as she sucked on them. “You are still as delicious as ever, kitten. Perhaps more so than before.”

Cupping his face in her hands, she pulled him to her, their lips crashing into one another for another frenzied kiss as he shimmied out of his trousers. She gasped as he pressed himself against her sopping core, the feeling of him so familiar she could cry.

“Will you allow me?” he panted, pausing his lusftul motions for a mere moment before she assented.

He was buried in her within seconds, both of them unable to hold back the sounds pleasure that escaped them, Gortash burying his head in her shoulder as he began to move his hips, slow, languid rolls that had her clinging to him.

Tav hadn’t expected this, any of this, but it felt so right. She wished she could remember them as he did, share his memories, but she would have to content herself with the new ones they were making for now. He felt incredible inside her, and she knew, deep down, this had always been the case; they fit perfectly together.

Despite his decision to start slow, he soon lost control of himself and his hips were snapping back and forth with ferocious speed, Tav crying out his name as her fingers gripped the blanket beneath her. She was so close, and it was encouraging those now all too familiar terrible urges. Without lifting his head, Gortash placed the letter opener in her hand, gritting his teeth as his thrusts grew sloppy.

“Just do it,” he growled, his fingers bruising her hips as he pinned them to the floor.

It was an almost out of body experience as she came for a second time, Enver grunting as she seized him from the inside. The knife plunged into his shoulder, the man growling and tightening his grip further as he continued his assault. Tav felt that feral nature coming on again and tossed the knife aside, still moaning as she wrapped her lips around the wound, biting and sucking until she tasted the copper taint of him on her tongue. It was too much for Gortash, spilling into her with a guttaral moan as she continued to steal what was his.

“Gods, kitten,” he breathed, falling weakly atop her as she finally released him; the weight of him felt good, comforting almost. “I always forget how good you are.”

Her arm snaked around his shoulder, her free hand toying with the small cut that was still dripping his blood onto her chest. She smiled, feeling full, content, and happy.

They’d crossed a line now, and she wasn’t nearly as upset about it as she’d ought to be.

“Forgive me, father,” she whispered, tugging at her lover’s hair as he squeezed her tighter.

She was in way over her head, but she didn’t mind at all.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #enver gortash #durgetash #lord gortash #gortash x durge #gortash x tav #the dark urge #durge #SMUT #THEY HAVE SEX

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constellaj · 10 months

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hey do u have some kind of list of the major variants in your multiverse au? It’s super cool and I really like it :3 (btw I am the original anon who asked you about it and the anon who was praising your Gwen, Courtney and heather art lol. just call me spiral anon)

also do u have any like, horror variants. Not horror necessarily, more so just tragic ones (the sillies have been through the trenches). Thanks :D

-🌀

OOH I've been meaning to get a list of my favorite multiverse guys together and this is the perfect excuse!! thank you spiranon!! I tried to trim this wall of text down best I could but it's SO LONG. buckle up!! as always mega thanks to @crystalfloe for developing and brainworming these fellas with me!!

I'll divide them up by the original character, and clarify their pseudonym; because the 'verse is populated with the same characters over and over, many end up choosing pseudos for themselves that they go by! I'll also elaborate on the ones that have some particularly horrifying aspects, but off the top of my head some who have really been through the ringer are ZombieMike (haven't given him a pseudo yet), Two-Inches-Taller Trent, Indigo (Jose), Mortal Bat Heather and Sea Bridgette. please note that I loooove duncan (and also dunhar) so a lot of these fellas are, well... dunhar :)

LOTS of Duncans! Let's get started! (duncans pictured above are not any real multiverse duncans) Zero rules the Duncan Underground with an iron fist. He has the power to up the "asshole levels" of any Duncan, spreading it like a zombie virus.

Declan comes from an Actor AU dimension, and has to rapidly adjust to a world where all his coworkers' fictional characters are real. He manages to settle down with a very stereotypical Courtney, and they're so mushy-in-love it's like a Hallmark movie.

Concorde is also known as "Normal Duncan". He's so abnormal that he actually spends most of his time hiding out at Club Vaquero, an underground nightclub exclusive to the multiverse's "weirdos". (more about club vaq later!)

Helix or Badger is also known as "Cop Duncan". He works with some powerful multiversal agencies to lock up and detain dangerous immortals. He has the ability to generate handcuffs and chains out of nowhere. He's an asshole and nobody likes him.

Fox is our newest addition to the multiverse! He's your standard Duncan, except he's accepted his soft side and lets it play out alongside his more punk-rock edgy end. He's got a huge multiversal network, with Bridgettes and DJs bringing him orphaned baby bunnies every other day to look after.

Harolds: Harlow Princeton Orange is the other side of our newest multiverse addition. An actor on Camp TV before he was thrown out into the multiverse, he thinks of everyone as an annoying coworker who won't ever break character.

Samurai Bloodshed is the platonic ideal of a Harold. He ran the Harold Hub-City with his epic anime powers, until he was cursed by a Justin to be... a jock. Stripped of his nerd swag, he's now doomed to wander the multiverse as a mere shell of his former self. (or IS HE???)

Matrix, aka "Punk Harold", is another frequent patron of Club Vaquero. He hangs out in the dirty punk scenes, plays awful music, and causes problems everywhere he goes. The only person who might be able to stand up to him is... Concorde?

Invisible Harold is Harold, but invisible. That's it I just think he's neat.

Alejandros: Siren is, well, a siren. With the help of Sea Bridgette, he flooded the entire Alejandro Resort, and turned it into an underwater, mermaid-filled utopia we're calling Alelantis. Unfortunately, he forgot to return a favor to Sea Bridge, so she turned her curse on him next. Transmuted into a scaly sea monster to match his powers, he ran (swam) away to hide in shame. Fortunately, this didn't perturb Marathon Tyler, who offered him a place to stay...

When most Alejandros were forced out of the resort, Silk fell into an open dimension (Angel Lindsay's dimension). Stranded in the empty wastelands below the angellic clouds, he's resorted to manipulating any other immortal who falls in on accident.

Naturo (yes we know that's not a real spanish word, we just think it sounds cool) controlled nature itself, using that power to enslave dimensions and threaten a total overtake of the multiverse. At least, he used to! His incarnation was killed, and he reset into someone we affectionately call Autistic Alejandro. This incarnation of Ale was carefully monitored since birth to prevent another Naturo situation; monitored by someone who he thought was his brother... (more on Indigo later!)

There's one more important Alejandro to mention! That's the Alejandro who's one half of Vaquero, the owner of Club Vaquero. Vaquero himself is a living fusion between an Alejandro (he's a pairhunter, more on them later!) and a Geoff. Yes this is the alegeoff fusion I've been drawing all along!!!!!! I fucking love Vaq!!!!!

McLeans: Gold lives in a massive penthouse in the bougiest part of the multiverse, living his ideal celebrity life, with his fake and real Gemmys so thoroughly intermixed you can't tell which is which. He's not a bad person per se, but he doesn't quite understand what's wrong with doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

Silver (no relation), on the other hand, lives on a cursed island and is a classic whistle-blowing camp counselor. He spends his time recruiting multiversal campers onto his island, to compete in death-defying challenges. Seems nasty, but if you win, you get the ultimate prize; he has the ability to grant wishes.

Meanwhile, out on True Wawanakwa, something very bizarre is happening. Chrises coalesce on this island, all fighting for dominance over a place they're convinced is "theirs". Every week, each Chris's team competes- and the losing Chris has to lose one of his carefully cultivated cast members. One of these Chrises is Lake, a granola-crunching, ADHD-ridden, dadbod-having hippie. Lake never executes members of his team, and instead hides everyone in a mystical glade; everyone on his team actually treats him like a genuine team dad. Just, y'know, be careful when dealing with him on the full moon-- he is a vengeful lake spirit, after all, and sometimes he loses control. I mean, how do you think Geoff turned into that tree? (Don't worry, Bridgette pours a cold one onto the roots once a month to keep him healthy.)

Everyone else! These are characters that we really only have one or two instances of.

Mildred (Blaineley) is a bit of a horror villain shut-in. She keeps pocket dimensions full of contestants and harvests their essence, essentially selling it on the black market.

Carmine (Blaineley) is another horror villain, but more composed and some would argue more sinister. Her facility allegedly works to rehabilitate former dangerous immortals, but what she actually does is manipulate (and if she has to, mind-control via magical contract) them into working for her. Indigo (Jose) had this unfortunate realization after he took her up on her blackmailed job offer. Autistic Ale's original Jose was removed from the dimension and locked in a cryo chamber, while Indigo encouraged Ale to avoid nature, making his own decisions, and saying no. Unfortunately, this turned out to be the exact right mix of traits to allow Carmine access to the nearly omnipotent Naturo...

Rehab Hatchet runs a small island full of lost and confused McLeans. He wields a magical machete that can cut open your mind; it helps him perform reconstructive brain surgery, but it's fucking terrifying.

Shadow Gwen is a loner with a sentient shadow. Well, she used to be a loner, until a mermaid Lindsay and an annoyed Noah show up explaining how she might be the only person who can save Alelantis from crumbling away forever. Will she accept the hero's call??

Sea Bridgette, unfortunately, is paired with an Aftermath Geoff. Pairing is an obscure but dangerous concept. Two magical beings with their auras intertwined; this makes them both more powerful, but also more vulnerable. She's a mutant fish person, and he's at the peak of his asshole arc and only cares about appearances. Siren offered to humiliate her pair on international TV, and she was thrilled-- but then he was a no-show.

Angel Lindsay and Bat Heather are two halves of a coin. Lindsay reincarnated as the only magical immortal in a dimension full of mortals. When Heather betrayed her on the island, Lindsay let out a burst of magic that split the world in two. Above the clouds, in a polished city, all of the "nice people" with beautiful fluffy angel wings. Below, in a wasteland without food or water, all of the "mean people" with dragging, scraggly bat wings. While Lindsay lives her life as Her Hotness Admiral Princess Angel Lindsay, Heather is left to scrape together a band of post-apocalyptic survivors, and try not to think about the friend she lost.

Two-Inches-Taller Trent is a Trent who is slightly taller than the average Trent. He lived a happy mortal life being best friends with Mike-- until he was ejected out into the multiverse, sucked through a rift in spacetime that traumatized both him and Mike. Separated from someone he had nearly paired with, Trent became what's known as a pairhunter; an amorphous, unstable ball of energy that can't survive without their pair.

ZombieMike is the collective term for a set of alters who, at one point, hated each other so much that they physically split apart from each other to form their own dimensions. Mike, Vito, Mal, Manitoba and Svetlana each led their own individual lives (as different supernatural creatures)-- until they were pulled back out into the multiverse, and slammed together into the same body.

Contract Titan Courtney is desperately pretending she's not a pairhunter. So desperately, in fact, that she lures Duncans into signing autonomy-overriding contracts, pretending that her pair never left. If the contract breaks, though, she snaps and enters titan mode...

Mirror (Dawn) works for a containment agency, and has a very skewed view of how to treat people. She genuinely thinks she's doing you a favor, molding you into your ideal self, but in actuality she's warping you and shaving off anything that makes you unique.

Evil Zoey is, well, Evil Zoey. Sent to an immortal jail alongside a Mal who didn't know why he was there, she tried to manipulate him into being even worse... and then the two ended up breaking out together.

Punk Courtney sings lead for the cover band Court's in Session, and she mostly sings about how much she hates everyone. She has a massive following of Gwens... I wonder why?

Marathon Tyler is a recurring Tyler who is just, always out on a jog throughout the multiverse. His jogging route encompasses every location you could possibly imagine. I'm not sure he's ever completed a run.

CONCLUSION: This isn't even a fraction of the guys we have LMAO so sorry for the long list and the long paragraphs. I've cut it down as much as I can so if you have any questions about anyone, please ask-- I probably left something out!

Also feel free to ask if there's any variants of [character] I left off-- I'd be more than happy to ramble some more!!

#total drama #ask #multiverse au #AAA I LOVE GETTING TO TALK ABOUT THIS SO MUCHHH i had to cut so much out to make it not five miles long #please dont use this post as your 'total drama fans hate women' fodder btw im a massive heather and courtney stan we just end up using them #in rewrite projects more than the multiverse. also dunhar sweep

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just-anotherrandomartist · 4 months

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i don’t even like bridgerton that much but the brainworms took hold. keep reading for a silly little thing i wrote.

Dearest Gentle Reader,

You, like myself, may be unsurprised to hear about the latest exploits of the Ton’s most shameless members. I am sure that you are eager for me to dig in to all the juicy details but first let me indulge in a little frivolity.

Last night at the Toegold ball, held in honor of their son, the young Mister Beverly Toegold’s recent debut, everyone was impeccably dressed. The Bronzebeard sisters looked stunning as always, Miss Jaina in a delightful charcoal suit and the Lady Gemma in an emerald green gown that—while completely opposed to her family’s favoured red—complemented her quite nicely. It has been interesting to see the young ladies this season after the mysterious end to Lady Gemma’s engagement to Prince Coldane.

It was so nice to see the Kindleaf siblings in attendance, though not a surprise given their long acquaintance with the Toegolds the young Lady Egwene, as she did last season, remains on the outskirts of the ballroom, rarely taking to the floor, although astute readers will notice Lady Egwene’s, ahem, admiration of Miss Jaina. Meanwhile, her younger brother, young Lord Erlin, danced only with the star of tonight’s ball Mister Beverly Toegold. Now, whether or not this is the result of a childhood friendship or a blossoming romance, is for you to decide Dear Reader.

Now, let me get to what I am sure everyone wants to read about, the latest dalliance between the newly appointed Lord Stormborn and the dubiously honorable Lady Moonshine Cybin, the only—legitimate—heiress to the Crick. The two lovebirds were seen walking off into the gardens—unchaperoned—about midway through the party and did not return for several hours. Upon their return, Lord Stormborn’s cravat, and indeed the rest of his dress, was in a state of considerable disarray. Lady Moonshine looked slightly more put together but was sporting a new necklace, a mushroom made of gold, diamonds, and rubies. This necklace seems to only be the latest gift given to Lady Moonshine, eagle eyed readers will notice that Lady Moonshine has yet to be seen in public without wearing the blue coral earrings Lord Stormborn gifted her at the beginning of the season. Perhaps the Lord Stormborn is making good use of his new wealth and station.

Readers who may be confused about the Lord Stormborn’s new arrival to the Ton at the beginning of this season will perhaps remember him better as Captain Surefoot. Captain Surefoot, at the time was penniless, but endeared himself to the people of the Ton. It was, you will remember Dear Reader, myself who first reported on Captain Surefoot’s reunion with his mother the Dowager Lady Stormborn.

Lady Moonshine and Lord Stormborn have always been quite close but will the Lord’s new title finally push him into making a proposal? I for one, cannot wait to find out and I wish the lovebirds all the happiness in the world.

#my stuff #my art #naddpod #not another dnd podcast #moonshine cybin #hardwon surefoot #hardshine #bridgerton

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420thewritersroom · 9 months

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A Burning Tree

~ok listen! I know I said that the next part would introduce Revenant!Kung Lao, but I got the brainworm to look at how Liu Kang and Shujinko handled Kung Lao's death and add more Dark!Raiden to the mix. Especially since I was heavily inspired to write a bit more about Dark!Raiden thanks to @sogekii-heii and their recent piece with Dark!Raiden (I still think about that, like oml!)~

~So here we go again! I promise this time, Kung Lao's coming back and it's going to be nasty! Also, this title actually has meaning to it, finish reading to get that meaning! Or skip to the end and get it anyways, idc~

~Before we continue just wanted to put some mild context to ensure this makes sense. Fire God Liu Kang starts getting deja vu as certain coincidences and events start playing out that are too eerily similar to how things played out during the MK9 game. All roads were seemingly leading to Kung Lao dying in his timeline, and Liu Kang struggled with how to cope and deal with this. On one hand, he did not want his friend-…His new teacher…To die, especially since he tried so hard to tailor-make this timeline to ensure everyone got a happy ending.

Yet, at the same time, he refused to stoop down to Kronika's level and start altering the timeline until it was his "perfect" utopia. However, his fears and suspicion about the situation become even more realized when Raiden gets gravely injured, and the only thing that prevented him from kneeling over was the thunder amulet infused with his person (and some other magical shit, idk). From this, Raiden gains his iconic white hair, and this gives Liu Kang a heart attack. To make a long story short, Kung Lao ends up dying at the hands of the villains, Raiden is going through the stages of grief, but he's going down the same dark path as the previous Raiden, now becoming Dark Raiden. And Liu Kang has to finally interfere.~

Still confused? Too late, now on to the story!

Previous // Next

Characters: Shujinko (MK1 Ver), Fire God Liu Kang, Raiden, Past Liu Kang, Past Raiden - Mentions of Kung Lao, Scorpion, Smoke, and Ashra

Word Count: 5,578

Ships: MK9 Liu Kang/MK9 Raiden (Unrequited Love)

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (with less blood), Heavy Talks of Character Death

Shujinko still remembers that day, when Liu Kang called all his champions to inform them of the news. Old and new Earthrealm warriors were gathered for the news, and it came as a shock to everyone what Liu Kang announced.

"I may have made a…Selfish choice, when I chose each of you to become defenders of Earthrealm. The timeline I originated from, many of you were there as well. Protecting and fighting for our home against threats within and outside of Earthrealm…And with this new era, I foolishly assumed that I could…Replicate the connections that were made before. I have taken up all of your time with new worries, wounds, and ripped you away from the lives you once had before. So…I'm giving you the option…To walk away. From all of this. To return to your homes, your families, the life before I found you. There will be no shame or dishonor if you choose to retire the mantle. I wish each of you a fulfilling life…And I'm sorry."

Shujinko still remembers the near unified gasp and murmurs that filled the room-the questions that erupted in that moment as everyone tried to make sense of Liu Kang's decision. Liu Kang answered any questions that were brought to him, but Shujinko could tell that Liu Kang was set on his decision. Despite Liu Kang's stance on the discontinuation of Earthrealms defenders, many opted to continue their service to their realm, especially when Kuai Liang, Tomas, and Ashra argued against Liu Kang's decision to weaken Earthrealms defenses. And where Liu Kang would've listened to their concerns carefully and worked with others to meet in the middle, the fire god did none of that, uncharacteristically so. It seemed no amount of concrete arguments was going to sway Liu Kang into reconsidering.

If anything, the zeal the Shirai Ryu leaders and Ashra displayed encouraged others to stay and maintain their positions as Earthrealms protectors. After all they've been through, how could one do so? Discovering mystical powers that they all thought to be mythical, experiencing breathtaking realms beyond their own, and for few, the soul-changing truth and reality of their existence. For others, they might not have a home to return to; a life either filled with too many hurtful memories, broken relationships, or homes gone to the wind to never return again. All of that is nigh impossible to walk away from…But walk away few did.

Their reasons for leaving were their own, and they left with their excuses. But there were those who couldn't return to a normal life due to the aforementioned reasons before. They knew too much, saw too much; for some, a bit too much. Like a soldier returning from a grueling war, reconciling an average living after spending years, months, maybe even weeks under the wing of Liu Kang and his academy would be much to bear on the psyche. Almost ominously, Liu Kang promised to fix that for them.

What was done to these warriors was not publicly told, but Shujinko heard rumors and whispers about Liu Kang wiping away the memories of those who couldn't find it in themselves to leave behind their new life to return to their old one. It's presumed it's a consensual exchange, and Shujinko wants to believe that Liu Kang gave them the choice to lose those memories. But there was something disheartening about knowing that old friends Shujinko knew during his time in the Wu Shi Academy now viewed him as a regular stranger. That there are those who returned home who will never recognize the faces of those whom they considered allies, friends, and maybe even lovers.

Shujinko would know that pain. He experienced it before.

Raiden, long before he was exposed to the same memory wipe...When he was...Changed by his former master's death, revealed to him why there were gaps and contradictions in his memories. At that time, Shujinko noticed a change that was present in everyone. People were avoiding him, few wanted to train with him, and others spoke to him in such a careful manner as if they were hiding something from the young pupil. Before, Kung Lao, Raiden, nor Liu Kang would explain why he was treated differently, chalking it up to his new classmates needing time to get to know him.

And for a long time, Shujinko believed that...Until Raiden broke the news to him. It practically came out of nowhere when Raiden revealed this to Shujinko. Shujinko's training was placed in the hands of the thunder wielder, and after Kung Lao's death, he was far rougher and blunt than before, pointing out all his flaws but giving little instruction on how to improve. Even Shujinko's ability to copy other's abilities couldn't prepare him how to fight properly. And, at times, Shujinko thought that Raiden used their time training together as an excuse to use him as a punching bag. None of the other masters at the academy was as ruthless as Raiden was, even the ones who were notorious for being a "tough love" type of mentor. Shujinko slowly began to dread training with Raiden...Feared him even. It was almost like Raiden had some...Sick, twisted desire to break his spirit, along with those he encountered.

It was the day when Shujinko practically BEGGED Raiden to stop his assault on him, clearly yielding, nay, submitting, to the thunder wielder. His glowing white hair and eyes, along with the sparks of lightning bouncing off him, becoming an image Shujinko, even to this day, has a hard time disassociating from his idea of what Raiden is. Raiden gave him a light but firm kick, forcing Shujinko on his back after leaning on his side. Raiden walked a short distance away from him, taking in the mountainous view of the academy. Shujinko took that moment to breathe since Raiden rarely gave him breaks anymore.

"...You've been slightly improving, Shujinko," Raiden kept his eyes trained on the scene before him, his voice tainted with a sinister tone.

Shujinko only moved his eyes to look at his master, remaining silent, for he feared that saying anything would rile the thunder wielder. Especially since the clouds have been a dangerous gray for a long time since they started their brawl.

"But you're barely where you need to be. Not like you used to be, anyways." Raiden gibed, still keeping his view on the mountainous regions ahead.

Shujinko KNOWS he shouldn't speak back, he learned a long time ago with this...New Raiden, what happens when he talks back to him. But something deep inside the young monk wanted to bite back at Raiden. After all this time under Raiden's wing, he's been nothing but demeaning to Shujinko. Everything the pupil did seemingly irritated Raiden to no end. If anything, the reason he's 'barely where he needs to be' is because Raiden beats him to near death and doesn't actually teach him! Not like he used to, at least!

Without thinking, Shujinko opened his mouth, venom escaping his lips as he responded to Raiden, "Maybe I would be getting better if you didn't constantly beat the 'lesson' out of me. You know, like how a true master would teach their student. Even Kung Lao knew that."

There was a threatening pause, a silence Shujinko didn't felt until he heard the frightening sound of thunder in the air. It wasn't until now that Shujinko realized where he first fucked up, especially when he put Kung Lao's name in the conversation. Shujinko quickly sat himself up, hissing in pain slightly as his muscles began to strain, and he was reminded that his left leg was sprained. Raiden still paid him no mind, continuing to keep the stillness between them. Shujinko knew that a possible beatdown was waiting for him, so he tried to sneak away as quickly as possible.

"You know, before General Shao, you were the first person to make an attempt on Kung Lao's life."

Shujinko froze upon hearing that, twisting his head to look at Raiden. He almost wished he hadn't that day because the look of Raiden looking at Shujinko over his shoulder, white eyes staring deep into his soul, was another unforgettable image he could never scrub from his mind. His mind was swimming with questions. What did Raiden mean that he almost killed Kung Lao? Never has he ever intentionally attempted to hurt his former master.

"W-what do you mean, master? I would never hurt Master Kung-"

"It's reasonable that you don't remember, you copycat pest," Raiden chastised, making Shujinko feel goosebumps all over his body when Raiden gave him his full attention. "Liu Kang wiped it all away, the memories of the time you got power hungry and nearly compromised the sanctity of the realms."

This all came as a shock to Shujinko as he stared at Raiden stupidly, not registering that Raiden was slowly approaching him.

"And honestly, I think Liu Kang was too kind to you. I should've seen the threat you would become from a mile away. Especially when I watched you nearly snap Kung Lao's neck with your own bare hands. You should've been put down, like the dog you were and the dog you still are." Raiden continued his encroaching walk toward Shujinko, his hair, and eyes now glowing with power as static encompassed him.

Shujinko starts to uselessly crawl away from Raiden, but too frightened to take his eyes off the thunder wielder. "N-no. No, no, no, I would never-"

"JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T REMEMBER DOESN'T MEAN IT NEVER HAPPENED, SHUJINKO," Raiden shouts at the confused pupil, an arc of lightening crashing next to the cowering student, dangerously close for comfort.

"R-RAIDEN, PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE!" Shujinko shrieks as he tries to regain his footing, ready to book it out of there.

But he wasn't fast enough, especially with his sprained leg that slowed him down further. Raiden zapped him with multiple streams of lightning straight from his fingertips as he tased Shujinko, the pained screams of his student bringing great inner delight to Raiden, to the amulet. "You're a threat to our realm, to all the realms. You could've been a valuable asset, but Liu Kang is too busy playing the peaceful politician to utilize you as a weapon. Too busy teaching you about harmony and peace when there are actually world-ending threats out there that could be stomped out if we didn't hold ourselves back. That's what killed Kung Lao..."

Shujinko groans in agony as he tries to get away, Raiden's constant assault making it difficult to move any part of his body. "RAIDEN, PLEASE!"

"...So, I guess the only way you won't become a potential threat, is if you are never a threat at all." Raiden began to intensify the bolts of lighting, the sounds of Shujinko howling in pain becoming music to his ears.

"RAIDEN!"

Finally, the lightning stopped, and Shujinko collapsed from the constant strain on his body. Raiden snapped his head towards Liu Kang, the one who gained his attention before he could finally kill Shujinko. The fire god rushed to the unconscious student before angrily looking at Raiden.

"You could've killed him, Raiden! What's gotten into you!?!"

Raiden stared at Liu Kang, not answering him but not showing any signs of guilt either. After a brief pause, Raiden turned his back on the pair and walked away.

"Raiden! Don't you walk away from me! Rai-"

Before Liu Kang could stop him, Raiden disappeared in a flash of lightning. Something Liu Kang was all too familiar with; Lord Raiden would do the same thing if he were to exit a scene.

The next thing Shujinko knew, he was in the many medical care rooms of the Wu Shi Academy, receiving treatment for his wounds. Multiple nurses dressed his injuries before Liu Kang approached Shujinko, expressing how Raiden would no longer be responsible for training him and that he would be assigned to a new teacher. While that was a relief to his ears...Something else bothered Shujinko.

"...Is it true that I almost killed Kung Lao...That I almost destroyed the realms..."

Liu Kang was so taken aback by this that he didn't immediately answer him.

"...Is that why my memories are missing, Lord Liu Kang? Because I'm a threat?" Shujinko's voice starts to shake as he can feel an overwhelming dread take over him.

Even though Liu Kang didn't answer him, the silence was telling. Despite this, Liu Kang didn't conceal the truth from him. Yes, Shujinko did nearly become a threat to all the realms...And yes, regrettably, he did nearly kill Kung Lao when they tried to subdue him. And there were others that Shujinko did kill...His best friend, Apep...Was one of the many casualties that Shujinko caused. All of this because Shujinko, at that time, became puffed up with pride and hungry for power. But it wasn't something that came out of nowhere. Liu Kang admitted that Kung Lao's early years of being a master at the Wu Shi Academy taught him many lessons in being humble; something Lao had to learn the hard way when he was teaching Shujinko the first time.

Liu Kang had no choice but to wipe his memories away, bringing him back to when he was first found by Liu Kang and his warriors. And like a house fire, the flames burned away nearly every inkling of his repertoire, leaving very little for Shujinko to remember. But that also meant, there was no way to recover those memories, even if Liu Kang wanted to give those memories back. Much like a valued family heirloom that was destroyed during a fire, there is precious little that can recover the lost item.

While this meant that Shujinko would not be haunted by the constant reminder of his failures...It still pained him to think that he COULD be a threat to be reckoned with. If anything, he almost wished he never learned the truth. Living in ignorance would've been preferable to living in fear of himself.

Shujinko blinks, not realizing that he's been standing idle in front of Liu Kang's private quarters for…Who knows how long. He didn't realize he was deep in thought as he was carrying a tray full of food to the fire god.

No one has seen Liu Kang-not since he disbanded the Earthrealm Warriors. Barely a week after that disbandment, Liu Kang became a ghost in his own academy. None of the monks can confidently say where they last saw the fire god. One moment, he's confined to his meditation area, then he's at the zen garden, or his private quarters. Other times, no one knows where Liu Kang is at all. Oftentimes, it was just best to leave offerings for the fire god at his (once) usual spots and come back an hour later. Usually, the contents were gone upon returning to retrieve them.

Shujinko should leave the tray behind, knock on the door, then go. But something compelled him to linger a bit longer after the initial knock.

"…Lord Liu Kang?" Shujinko meekly calls out. He tries the door, and to his surprise, it was unlocked.

"Are you going to l-let me die? Like you did Lao?"

"HE WOULD'VE WANTED TO LIVE WITH ME. SPEND THE REST OF HIS LIFE WITH ME! HIS FUCKING BOYFRIEND!"

"I LOVED HIM, LIU KANG! WITH ALL MY HEART, I LOVED HIM!!! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME! YOU DID THIS TO ME!!"

"Even if you didn't know fully that Kung Lao would die, why didn't you tell us! Why didn't you save him?"

"BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK TO ME!"

"Why did you let him die"

Those words will always haunt Liu Kang. The pain in Raiden's voice, the intensity of his lightning strikes, the hatred he felt for Liu Kang. That's not something one can move on from, no matter how many years pass by. But these words cut deeper than Raiden, or anyone could ever imagine

In his youthful, mortal years, Liu Kang made the stupidest decision of his life, and fell in love with a god. Of all the people he could dedicate his life to, a beautiful Outworlder, a fellow best friend, a Special Forces agent, hell, even the Hollywood star would've (not really) been a better contestant than the LITERAL GOD OF THUNDER. An entity that will outlive him by decades, who probably went through multiple lovers-Liu would become another footnote in their unending life. Not only that, but he was pretty much RAISED by this man. He practically went through the entire spectrum of relationships with Raiden, first strangers, then friends, mentor/student, father/son…And now Liu Kang wanted to add lovers to that?

Liu Kang, even then, tried to psyche himself out of falling for Raiden. He had many other suitors, plenty of girls and boys who threw themselves at the Shaolin Monk, and he had plenty of options to choose from. But no matter how he tried, his heart yearned for Raiden. If you asked Liu Kang how he discovered that he grew an affinity for Raiden…There was no straight answer.

Liu Kang can probably point to his formative years as a teen already trying to traverse and reconcile with his growing and changing body. He remembered many times where he lingered at those he found attractive, one of those individuals being Raiden. But back then, Liu Kang assumed that he was just "admiring his physique" and using Raiden as a means of motivation to get stronger.

But the feelings of desire did not fade away as he grew older. If anything, they evolved. Soon, he was having silly daydreams about Raiden. Wondering how it would feel to be held protectively by the thunder god as he lifted them away from danger. What his white mane must feel like, and how Raiden would react if Liu ran his fingers through his hair or braided it. Or perhaps how would Raiden feel if Liu put in the effort to make him a meal, something that Raiden would love. He started noticing little details about Raiden that none did, such as the light glow in Raiden's eyes when he was talking with someone he fancied or the age lines when he smiled. But then these innocent daydreams became…Fuel for more carnal wants. Soon, it developed into memorizing his physique for…Reasons.

Liu Kang began to wonder how it would feel to have Raiden pull at his hair, to whisper in his ear, to pin him down, speak sweet nothings to him, to claim Liu Kang as his, something Raiden could do at any point in time if he wished. A god could take whatever it wanted, and Liu Kang would've gladly let Raiden do whatever he desired with him.

But what outweighed the carnality and the soft trances was the genuine love he felt for Raiden. On the same note of noticing small characteristics of the thunder god, Liu Kang did know of his favorite food (it's nuclear buffalo wings), he knew about Raiden's brother, Fujin, knew about the many adventures that Raiden partook in, both sad and joyful. Liu Kang KNEW Raiden and it made him fall for the god most spectacularly.

But Liu Kang overstepped his boundaries. He and Raiden were sparing together as Liu Kang wanted to demonstrate to Raiden that he was ready for the Mortal Kombat tournament. It was a sweat-inducing endeavor as there was an intense back-and-forth, each of them blocking and countering the others' attacks before finally, Liu Kang gained the upper hand, pinning Raiden below him.

"Do you yield?" Liu Kang says, out of breath.

"Y-yes. I yield," Raiden, just as winded, replied as he shoots Liu Kang with a reassuring smile. "You have improved thanks to Bo' Rai Cho's teachings."

"And I have you to thank for making me a recommendation," Liu readjusts himself on top of Raiden, sitting up on top of Raiden while not applying much weight to the god below him.

There's a moment where Raiden and he are quiet after some idle talk, Liu Kang only noticing that Raiden was staring at him with a growing smile. "…What?"

"You are ready, Liu Kang. You will be the one who will save Earthrealm from Outworld's attempts to merge the realms under their tyranny."

Liu Kang, even though he was praised by Raiden countless times before, cannot help the growing heat from surfacing on his face. He faces away from Raiden before muttering, "You flatter me, Lord Raiden…"

"You'll need a constant reminder that I, along with every defender of Earthrealm, will be cheering for you during the tournament. The kombatants you will encounter will test your might, your vigor, and your mental capacities. I believe you are ready. I know you will become the chosen defender that Earthrealm needs." Raiden softly professed as he leaned up, using his elbows to leverage himself.

Liu Kang looked at Raiden, meeting the thunder god eye-to-eye. Liu Kang saw his whole world in Raiden's white pupils, soaking in every hint of emotion that was displayed in front of him.

"Liu Kang?"

Liu didn't even realize that he was leaning closer to Raiden.

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

Liu Kang didn't even register that Raiden was asking questions.

Before Liu Kang knew it, he pressed his lips together with Raiden's. At last, his hearing decided to work so that he could hear the surprised "mph!" noise from the thunder god. It was perhaps Liu Kang's first kiss, he wasn't as adventurous as Kung Lao, who definitely had a few run-ins with various individuals. It being Liu Kang's first, it wasn't anything remarkable, but it was memorable to Liu Kang…But not for the reasons he would've wanted.

When they finally parted, Liu Kang felt like he could breathe again. The shocked expression plastered on Raiden's face, however, was unexpected. They both remain in total silence, neither making a move nor taking the first step to speak. Raiden would finally be the first to move, which indicated for Liu Kang to finally get off the thunder god. Liu Kang, courteously, helped Raiden back on his feet, his hand, however, did not leave Raiden's.

"…I…I must go," Raiden quickly excused himself, disconnecting his hand from Liu Kang.

Liu Kang watched Raiden leave, and the feeling of awkwardness and humiliation quickly overwhelmed him.

Since that day, the pair seemed to share the same idea of just avoiding each other. But where Liu Kang was avoiding Raiden out of embarrassment, Raiden...Liu Kang couldn't figure him out (that bit of mysteriousness always being an aspect of Raiden he did like). Before, Liu Kang didn't mind it, but when Liu Kang began to rediscover the courage to approach Raiden, the thunder god was always turning the other way or shortening their conversations considerably. He could never get a moment with Raiden as he was always in discussion with someone else, busy with other matters, or needed to consult those dreaded Eldar Gods.

But they would finally have a one-on-one...A literal week before the official Mortal Kombat tournament. Liu Kang and Kung Lao were sitting with their Shaolin Monk brethren and family, the spiritual brothers jesting from across the table and talking about their eventful day. Raiden was missing from the scene, but he would suddenly appear in the mess hall where they were all meeting.

"Liu Kang, do you have a moment?"

Many faces turn to Liu Kang with curiosity. The same kind of energy children would have when one is called to the principal's office. Liu Kang feels a knot in his stomach, and he wipes his face with an available napkin, "Yes, Lord Raiden."

"Ooh~! You're in trouble~" Kung Lao jokes, releasing the tension effortlessly in the room.

Liu Kang smirks at his friend, throwing a dumpling at the razerhat wielder before skipping away from the table. Approaching Raiden and meeting him out in the hallway, he noticed that Raiden continued to walk further into the Shaolin Temple.

"Was there a reason for my audience, Lord Raiden?" Liu Kang finally asked after a couple turns here and there, but Raiden still remained silent. The knot in Liu Kang's stomach grows tighter as he anticipates their stop, which means he'll finally be informed the news.

Liu Kang tried to calm himself when they finally reached a secluded area in the temple, outside near the zen garden. Raiden stops in his tracks near a still-in-bloom cherry blossom tree. Funnily enough, it was the same tree he and Kung Lao would often play near when they were children before sometimes secretly training together under said tree.

"...Is there...Something wrong, Raiden?" Liu Kang drops the professionalism as he tries to make this personal, trying to appease to the human side of Raiden.

"...About that...Day...When we both...When we both sparred together as we tested your skills for the tournament."

OHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCKOHFUCK!

Liu Kang visibly (and if possible, verbally) swallows as he stares at Raiden's back, the thunder god still not facing Liu Kang and meeting him eye-to-eye.

"...Yes..." This was all Liu Kang could utter as he waited for Raiden to continue.

"I...Um..." Even Raiden was loss for words, as if he just decided RIGHT NOW that he wanted to talk about this. "...I...I recognize that you have developed a fondness for me."

It felt like Liu Kang's heart was going to jump out of his body or crawl out of his mouth. A large part of his being was vibrating with excitement. Is this it? Is this the part where they finally take the next step? Liu Kang couldn't help but step in place, leaning against one foot before placing added pressure on the other. Liu Kang wanted to say it. He wanted to declare his emotions in from of Raiden before the thunder god could finish.

"I love you. I love you so much, Raiden. You have no idea the night I would stay up with you on my mind. The pain I go through because I wanted to be near you, close to you, with you."

All of this and more, Liu Kang wanted to confess, but he is disciplined, he is patient. He will wait for Raiden to finish his thought, if he has more to tell.

"...And I have that same...Care for you too, Liu Kang. There's much history between us, and I can understand that you may have grown a deeper affinity for me."

There's a BUT in there. There's a MASSIVE BUT in there. But Liu Kang didn't hear it. He was too enamored, far too blinded by his own love for Raiden to even recognize the writing on the walls.

"But I must, respectfully, decline your love for me."

Liu Kang's world felt like it shattered around him. Somewhere, deep down, Liu Kang knew this could be a possibility. A high probability, in fact.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. Liu Kang stared at Raiden dumbfound. There must be a reason why. Is he not his type? Is it due to the circumstances with the tournament? Is Raiden already seeing someone else? What was the reason?

"…Goodnight, Liu Kang," and Raiden proceeded to walk away. Or, at least, attempt to.

It took all of Liu Kang's willpower to surge after him and grab his wrist, "Wait! W-why can't we? I mean, you said you felt the same way, so why do you 'decline.'" Liu Kang didn't mean to sound desperate, but he wanted to know. Maybe there might still be a chance he can still win Raiden's love.

"Liu Kang, you're letting your emotions control you. I said what I said; there's nothing more to it-"

Liu Kang forces himself in his line of sight, "Why Raiden. That's all I ask."

"Does the why really matter, Liu Kang?"

"It matters enough to me as your friend…"

"…We're not compatible," Raiden tries to say with finality.

"And why is that?"

"Liu-"

"Is it because I'm mortal? The tournament?"

"Liu Kang!" Raiden's eyes flare with godly power as his voice booms like thunder. This immediately quiets Liu Kang. Raiden takes a moment to breathe, reeling back his anger. "…You have many admirable qualities. You're handsome, patient, caring, determined, and good-willed. These are aspects that anyone would fall for and would be lucky to have you as their significant other. And…Perhaps, in another life, I could return your feelings. But I cannot provide you the happiness you think I can give. The amount of responsibilities and burdens…I'm sorry, but I just wouldn't be able to emotionally and physically give back to you."

Liu Kang was speechless as he gazed at Raiden. It hurts too that Raiden is just too good at keeping a stoic look, so Liu Kang can't even find any cracks in his "it's not you, it's me" speech.

"We both will have our 'plates filled' during and after the tournament. A lot of opportunities will be heading your way. I know a mortal's life is short; one must grab at every chance of life that one can. But believe me when I say, that you will find someone who will love you more than I ever could. And it might end up being someone unexpected." Raiden smiles as he places a hand on Liu Kang's shoulder.

Liu Kang slowly hangs his head low slightly, not exactly looking at Raiden's feet, but not meeting his gaze either. "I'm sorry for lashing out, Lord Raiden."

"Do not apologize, it's natural. Believe it or not, I have had plenty of experience with such bursts of emotions. I will always love you, Liu Kang, and I pray that someone will love you more than I do."

When Liu Kang recreated this timeline, his main goal and motivation was always to provide his friends a new life. A better life. A second chance at being happy. And sometimes, that meant changing and altering events so that his friends and companions could achieve that life they'd always wanted.

That's why Raiden's words cut so close to home. The old Raiden, the former thunder god, his mentor, his father…The one that got away. Liu Kang only wanted Raiden to be happy because he saw, from the outside looking in, the stress and pressure Raiden had to maintain on his own. And being a fire god himself, he can finally reconcile with those tough decisions Raiden burdened himself with. There were times Liu Kang just wanted to hold him, to kiss away any tears or fears Raiden had.

But they were never meant to be, but that never meant that Raiden's happiness never came first for Liu Kang. Liu Kang may not be able to provide for Raiden emotionally or physically, but he can give him a life where he doesn't have to worry about a single thing. So he put Raiden in his shoes and gave him everything Liu Kang would've wanted. A loving family, a best friend, a wise mentor…A home…Everything Liu Kang has lost or never had, he gave to Raiden…In some way, it was almost like a thank-you gift to the one god who gave him everything in his mortal life.

"Lord Liu Kang?"

Liu Kang opens his eyes as he's slightly disturbed from his meditation. He can see Shujinko peeking through the door, a tray full of food. I'm sorry to disturb you. I wanted to bring you a meal from the mess hall…"

Liu Kang's glowing eyes stare at the young pupil, and he gestures for him to enter. The young man hurries into Liu Kang's quarters, taking brief seconds to admire the gods' room before setting the tray in from of Liu. Just as Shujinko was about to leave, Liu Kang speaks up, "Please, sit with me. I…I would like the company."

"R-really?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang in utter surprise. He doesn't know anyone in the academy who has sat down with Liu Kang ever since the fire god decided to isolate himself. He's probably the first in a long time to actually SEE Liu Kang in so long. "Are you sure?"

Liu Kang smiles as he picks up the bowl of rice and chopsticks. "I don't eat much anymore. You can have some of the items presented."

Shujinko was still dumbfounded as he watched Liu consume the rice. Shujinko would finally sit across from Liu and pick up a slice of bread and carefully takes a bite. The pair ate in silence, which was more than enough for Liu Kang. Just being near someone, even if it was someone he wasn't too familiar with, Liu Kang knew that at some point, he needed to break this cycle. If Kung Lao was here, he would've scolded him and drag his sorry-ass outside, and forced him to to rekindle himself with the world at large. Liu Kang actually chuckles to himself as he thinks about this.

"Hmm?" Shujinko looks at Liu Kang startled.

"Nothing, Shujinko…Just thinking…" Liu Kang smiles.

~whoo, I wrote "considerably" less this time around :D! So, the reason why I picked the title "Burning Tree" is because I was thinking of Shujinko because trees are often associated with family ties and how they're connected to each other. In this case, its more memories than any familial ties Shujinko has with the characters. With his memories gone, it's like a tree burning (or a better analogy being the house fire I mentioned in the story). A burnt tree is nigh reversible and you are stuck with whatever was left behind, if anything was even left behind. That can go hand in hand with Shujinko's (and even Raiden's) memories when Liu Kang removed them. Liu Kang, being the god of fire, can take away those painful memories, but once the deed is done, is irreversible. Even the most dedicated of therapy sessions won't return those lost memories. But like embers after a flame, small fragments might still remain. See, I'm hella smart :D. Also, if it wasn't obvious already, I'm a big Liu Kang/Raiden lover and I was shocked to see there was barely any fics about the pair on AO3. The horror!~

#Mortal Kombat #Mortal Kombat 1 #MK1 #MK1 Shujinko #MK1 Liu Kang #MK1 Raiden #MK9 Raiden #Shujinko #Liu Kang #Raiden #Oops Kung Lao's Dead Again AU #Wilted Cherry Blossoms Dark Thunderstorms Burning Hopes

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vilonnie · 4 months

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got randomly smacked in the head by mercedes brainworms so now I’m thinking about verdant wind black eagles mercie again… imagine you are an older sister and you have abandoned everything and you have always passively gone along with whatever everyone else decides for you – you are not in the business of making choices. the only things saving you from loneliness are your faith and annette, your first and last and one and only best friend. annette understands you (she understands how to cannibalize herself trying to fix the men in her family, understands the preciousness of a teenage girl’s dear friend, understands the constant struggle to be good, good, good despite it all.) you are both good girls, but you are not good girls. and in truth she is not like you, because you see her desperate conviction, dedication, hard work and sleepless nights, and wonder how such a small girl can grasp such powerful devotion.

the first real choice you ever make is to transfer. you find the brother you left behind all those years ago, and you allow yourself to hope that maybe this time you can do better, make it better. it is a sister’s responsibility. you have been given a second chance. then you fight on their side in the war, and you are fighting against the only true home you have ever known – the only place you have known shelter, haven, friendship. didn’t you want to give that to other helpless young girls, once? it is annette who brings you back again. she brings you to your knees as her black magic pierces even your resistance, and instead of cleaving her axe through your heart, she only extends a hand once again. at this point, you both know that you cannot win. the good girls have backed the wrong horses. annette’s king faerghus has gone mad, with a doomed procession of childhood friends trailing lovingly, blindly behind him, but still she will not leave – she once told him he was like a brother to her – and she does not abandon the things she loves. she is not her father. and you know that edelgard’s time is running out, too – you have seen the tides of war turning against her. the game is up, princess. so you return. you return, and you abandon. this is the second time you have left your brother behind.

there is a man you know, dressed in red and black on wyvern’s wings, who curses his own disloyalty, his cruelty, his self-destruction, his misery. but he has stayed all these years by the same broken hearts he has loved since childhood, there for them as he has always been, unfailingly loyal, at the core of it. it is you, the holy woman, draped in shining whites and rose golds, who left them (who left her, who left your home.) you who is the traitor, you who has committed treason. you are strong and you are kind, so you will continue onward no matter what, but the burden lies heavy upon your heart. later, it is you, the gentle pacifist, the healer, who will take down the famed death knight. a legendary deed! this is a very pretty way of saying that your hands are the ones to end your brother’s life. in the end, you kill him for the country you chose over him. the first real choice you ever make.

one day the war is over, and you have played no part in it, and none of this matters, in the end. but a new dawn is still here, and you can take the woman you love into your arms, and you can promise to give her the world she deserves, promise to give all helpless children like you the world they deserve, and aren’t you finally happy, to be making a choice for yourself? I love mercedes,

#fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #mercedes von martritz #espposts #I should go to jail for this #anyway hope this doesn’t read as BL or BE bashing lol please no discourse on this post please

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atsadi-shenanigans · 9 months

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Feeding Alligators 17 - Panties!

You and Gale chat about linguistics. Astarion has elf ears and thus, elf hearing. Ruh-roh.

Rated M for language and violence. Still not for smut, because when I said this was a slow burn, I meant it and also Eleanor is demisexual, so does not compute for her (yet).

On AO3.

You don’t make it much further before calling quits. Between your horror vomiting, Lae’zel’s brush with acid, and the rest of the party being generally wrung out from killing a wholeass owlbear, y’all are beat.

Camp is in a pretty, little clearing just off the trail. The grass is soft—and joyously free of ticks—with patches of pretty, yellow flowers. It’s a clear night; the moon is a great, big silver plate, and the spray of unfamiliar stars overhead shine bright and crystalline.

While Lae’zel scrapes the brains out of the skull of the owlbear, the others hunker down for a good and proper soup. It’s mostly vegetables, with sliced sausages, and you’re so, so fucking thankful Gale kept spices in his magical go bag. More than salt and pepper, too. You’re picking up traces of chili powder, paprika, and even a taste of cumin, you think. Not bad at all.

After your meal, y’all sit around for a bit. Astarion returns from scouting and takes his bowl back to his tent. Mr. Fancypants doesn’t like eating with commoners. It’s the first night everyone’s free, not working on spells or meditating or sulking alone. But the mood is still heavy and subdued.

Fucking cults will do that.

You wonder if your group’d listen to White people ghost stories—the Cherokee ones you do not tell at night out in the open.

You kick back and stare at the red line dancing around the edges of the embers.

Your stomach is still sore; throat still scratchy. And your headache is a constant grind. Must be the brainworm chewing on your gray-meats. The others hide their own discomfort pretty good—though that might just be the whole “not human” thing. Except Gale is human. Does he have wizard ibuprofen?

You stare into the fire some more and resist the urge to palm your right eye and press until you see sparkles.

The next thing you know, everyone has moved around the fire.

You sit up. Look around. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are arguing over the importance of keeping trophies (which Shadowheart dismisses as barbaric nonsense). Astarion is now standing outside his tent with a book propped open on one arm. You literally blinked and they all moved. What the fu—

“Are you alright?” Gale says. He was opposite you on the whole other side of the fire. Now he leans on the same fallen log you rest against with his own book sitting in his lap.

“I,” you say. You lost time. You completely lost, at minimum, several minutes. You try to breathe normal, instead of panting like a sick dog. “Yeah. I just…zoned out pretty good right there.”

Gale frowns. “’Zone?’ How would you use area as a verb?”

God, your head hurts.

You flap a hand. “Means I wasn’t paying attention, is all. D’you, you got anything for a headache? The stress has got my neck wound so tight it could crack a walnut.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. Shadowheart may have an easier time of it. Are you…?”

He pauses. There’s more than confusion etched into his brow. It looks suspiciously like concern.

“Are you having any other symptoms?” he says in a low voice.

You look at him until it clicks. The whole face melting thing. All the stuff he’s described.

“No, no,” you say. “I don’t think it’s any of that. I woke up with this back on the butthole—I mean, the nautiloid.”

But his eyebrows have already shot up to his hairline. “The what? I’m not sure that translated accurately.”

Oh shit.

You groan. “No, it probably did. It’s what I been calling the nautiloid, before I learned its name. The doors on there looked like, well, buttholes. So I just went with it.”

His mouth opens. No words come out. You’ve shocked Mr. Verbose into silence. You almost give yourself a high five.

“I named all you’uns,” you continue, a bit more of Uncle Randy’s vernacular slipping in. It feels nice, letting your tongue slide back into that cadence. Feels like relaxing. Once you’d moved away, you tried to soften your country accent, fold it up into neat, shortened northern.

“I can only hope it was more sophisticated than your naming convention for the ship,” Gale says.

“You were mumu.” You wait. His expression doesn’t change, so the dirt potion must not’ve had a decent replacement for that. So you explain it, and by the end, he’s got a wry sort of smile.

“I can state with full confidence I’ve been called much worse,” Gale says. “Though it is a slight blow to my ego that I couldn’t impress any of my more noteworthy traits over my wardrobe.”

“It was either that or mullet.”

Having explained that, he proceeds to quiz you on the others, stumbling only over “goth.” But educated on that, he agrees with you on all counts.

“We’d been calling you Tav,” he says. At your blank face, “It’s a name used for orphans or someone whose name isn’t known, usually due to illness or injury. Quite common.”

Tav. It’s…their version of Jane Doe?

Then Gale’s face twists up. You can’t tell if it’s some flavor of perplexed, or if there’s a hint of amusement around his eyes. “Though I am curious how you’d gotten a glimpse at Astarion’s pants?”

You stare. Twist to find Astarion lounging on a nest of pillows he’s somehow managed to collect—he stole them from the tieflings, didn’t he.

“He’s wearing them?” you say and gesture with your thumb.

Gale’s whole face opens in surprise (relief?). “Ah! Another translation quirk. We call the outer garments trousers. The inner clothing is called pants, or smallclothes.”

You sit there. He’s definitely amused, now. Because you’ve been calling Astarion ‘Fancy Underwear.’ Good god. You’re so glad you figured that one out with Gale.

“Right,” you say. Your face definitely doesn’t feel warm. Not at all.

“Apologies for the distraction, and back to your headache. So you have no other symptoms.”

“I mean.” You gesture to your face, which as far as you can tell by touch is still your face. Goddamn, you haven’t had a proper bath in days. At least y’all are camped next to a stream; you can keep on dunking yourself as best you can. Still, no moisturizer or shampoo. Your elbows are getting rough.

“It’s all rather odd,” Gale says. “We should be halfway through the gestational process, yet none of us—aside from possibly you—have shown any sign of it. Either your being from a different plane has made you more susceptible, or our own physiology has shielded the rest of us. But Lae’zel isn’t a local, either, and even you aren’t following the standard process, as I understand it.”

He studies you a long moment. His lips press thin. But then he sighs and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think you alone are going through the melt-change-condition.” You catch the vague shape of the actual word he uses behind the magical translation, but can’t suss it out. “I think it safe to assume this is merely the stress from all of this. I would suggest you find a way to relax, but, well.”

Lae’zel has finished both her scraping and her argument. She settles down next to a big, stone wheel that starts to spin as her foot taps a pedal. You watch, curiously, until she lifts her brains-scraping knife and you realize that sumbitch is a fucking grinder.

The noise shoots right through your eyeball to lodge deep in your aching brain.

“Nice talk, Gale, I’m getting out of here,” you say.

He winces next to you. Nods. “I’ll retire to my tent and see if I can’t come up with something in my stores to help with that ache of yours. In your head. That you mentioned.”

He rolls to his feet super spry for someone with gray streaks in his hair. He gives a little bow with his head, which you return with a nod as you make your way to the opposite side of the camp from Lae’zel.

Which happens to be where Astarion has set himself up for the night. Almost like he didn’t want to be around someone scooping out a dead owlbear head.

He glances up as you near. Watches you sink down into the grass nearby. You pause for a moment, considering, and flop onto your back in a full sprawl beneath the stars.

You don’t say anything. Neither does he, for a long moment. He flips a page. The pounding in your brain begins to unclench. Turns another page.

“So,” he says in a fucking tone.

“Oh god,” you say preemptively.

“You think my pants are fancy?”

Fucking elf ears. Of course he fucking heard you. Of fucking course.

You cover your face with one arm. “Would you stop if I said it was a mistranslation and I meant your trousers?”

“Whyever would I do that?”

Whyever would he. The man is a fucking menace.

Thing is, you’ve been so polite and quiet this whole time (until today, really). But Mother and the other leadership saw something in you, even as a child. And they weren’t exactly wrong about it (just the part where it was bad bad sinful bad the devil shame shame bad).

You turn to squint at him through the throbbing in your skull. “Are they?”

“Are what, dear?”

“Your underwear. Are they fancy?”

Bitch doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He wants to give some, he better be able to take some.

You almost miss his hesitation, it’s so fast. Then his malicious smirk is back on and he snaps his book shut. Spins to face you. “They are, actually. I would ask the same of you, but I’m rather sure you’re not wearing any.”

“Nope,” you say, popping the “p” and waggling your legs back and forth in the grass. Outbrazen that, chucklefuck.

His mask doesn’t even crack. Not a flinch, not a micro expression; the man is stone cold fucking with you. “Are those not a norm in your realm, either?”

“Oh, they are, I just didn’t have them on me when I got grabbed.” Let him wonder about that. Dare him to fucking ask. The reason is you were asleep, but he doesn’t know that. “Unless we find some kinda clothing store soon, I think I’m gonna have to make some myself.”

He leans forward to rest an elbow on his bent knee. “I could help you with that, you know.”

You…can’t tell if he’s being serious.

“I ain’t wearing your drawers, fancy man. You only got the one pair anyway, unless you’re walk around with spares in your pockets.”

To this, he grimaces. “I didn’t need the reminder. All the material we’ve come across has been roughspun, mildewed, or both. Not a scrap of silk to be seen anywhere.”

You turn your head to frown at him for a long moment. Because yeah, that tracks. Of course this floof-haired, ridiculous city man wears silk drawers. You should not be so surprised at this. But also…

“You expecting to find you some silk out here in the boonies?” you say.

Now it’s his turn to frown. You watch his lips form the word “boonies.”

“Outside the city,” you say. “Back woods, back water, the sticks, wilderness, middle of fucking nowhere.”

“Hmm. No, I suppose I didn’t. People travel through here, but not the sort to own any apparel worth salvaging, would they? No, you’re correct.”

You say nothing to that. Content to lie beneath the moon and let the conversation about y’all’s panties die a quiet, natural death.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his head tilt. He’s watching you.

“That was a clever little plan, back there,” he says after a moment. “I dare say, you thought further ahead than any of the others regarding those cultists. And regarding how to deal with them. It was very clean—efficient, even if their deaths were very much not. It’s a shame you had to leave us so quickly back in that den.”

To vomit.

You’re not gonna out-edgey the edgelord here. Simpler to go for the boring answers. “Ain’t used to seeing something like that. Horror is a normal response to people getting torn up back where I come from.”

“Mmm. Sounds terribly dull. And yet, for someone so inexperienced,” he makes some gesture that either their version of air quotes or him just being a theater kid, “you came to that conclusion quickly and you saw it through. Against some objections, even.”

Objections from half of them. Or only Gale, really, as the only part Lae’zel hadn’t liked was the sneak factor. She seemed pleased as punch when then owlbear turned on y’all and she got to hack it to pieces.

And Gale got over it all well enough to come hang out with you at camp.

These fucking people.

And goddamnit, you’re fitting in.

You find him with his chin propped up, his gaze fixed on you.

“I have never, in my life, had to deal with this kinda shit before,” you say. “I’m just…getting ideas as we go along and trying not to die.”

“Quite vicious ideas.”

Your neck is hot. You turn away, point your face at the sky as if the cold starlight will chill the head building over your cheeks.

He’s not wrong. You have a ruthless streak, you know. Part of your whole healing process was recognizing and accepting that part of yourself. And you had. And now, you wonder if that is part of the problem. If you hadn’t just gone down into your mental basement to feed the monsters there, but you’d pulled up that cellar door and leapt in yourself.

You feel guilt, for sure. But you already know you’d do it again. You’d put up that ruthless streak in a shoebox and set it up on a tall shelf in a back closet in your brain. But now you went and you opened that up, and it’s working for you. It’s a tool and a weapon, and it might be your best shot at surviving all this.

“Your ideas got you out of that crash,” Astarion says. “They kept you with all of us, saved you from that bandit, and effectively took control of our little band of miscreants.”

“What? I’m not—”

You didn’t take control. Did you? They went along with one horrible idea. Or two, actually, with Kahga. Except there were several ideas involved in that—

You’re not the leader.

You’re not.

“And even now, that mind of yours is plotting out our continued survival, isn’t it?” he says. “You might be a useful person to know.”

“Well thank you, darlin,’” you drawl.

He makes a sound that forces your attention back to him. You catch his eyebrows raised, eyes round. The laugh is more of a snort, and he seems as surprised at it as he does at…whatever caused it.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“That’s just a saying,” you start.

But he’s already waving it off. “Not to worry. I believe I’ll leave you to your little respite away from that cacophony. Take a walk and get some air, myself.”

Oh shit, you weirded him out. It’s just a phrase. Old, southern ladies you’ve never met call you “sugar” and “honey” all the time.

He stands. Sweeps the wrinkles out of his clothes—mostly his silly, frilly shirt. Then he gives you some ridiculous, over-the-top, one-arm-in-the-air courtly bow. “Do sleep tight, darling.”

He wanders off. The wind hisses in the trees. Lae’zel’s grinder screeches like a thousand souls of the damned, and your brain worm nibbles contentedly at a piece of your pre-frontal cortex.

“Jesus christ,” you say and roll over to lie face down in the grass.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #fanfic #astarion #astarion x tav #it's a goddamn isekai #i'm not sorry #no betas we die like men #feeding alligators fic #tavstarion #plus size tav #demisexual tav

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destiny-dreamwielder · 2 months

Text

No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)

Rating: T

Pairing: Destiny DreamWielder (OC) x Malorn Ashthorn

Summary: Destiny and her companions return to Ravenwood after Polaris. But everything is changing now, including Destiny's relationship with Malorn, one of her very best friends.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Discussion of bullying, a decent amount of angst, and a relationship getting to first base.

A/N: This is a sequel to this fic I posted a while ago! (I do encourage refreshing yourself if you'd like, though this one can be standalone.) I wanted to finally write out and post how Destiny and Malorn got together, because I have brainworms about a set of pixels with personalities I gave them. Title comes once again from a Taylor Swift song, this time it's So High School.

“Go on and take your leisure,” Baba Yaga instructed. “You’ve earned it. Don’t stray too far though. Don’t leave the Spiral. We’ll be in touch soon enough.”

“Alright,” Destiny answered, head still spinning. She had been expecting instructions along those lines. Back to “normal,” for now. She turned back to her companions as Baba Yaga retreated to her office and Fitzhume returned to his desk. Destiny stood surrounded by Mellori, Myrna, and Catherine, and she knew they weren't all returning to the same place. “I guess this is where we split up,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Are you okay, DreamWielder?” Catherine asked, concerned as she always was. Destiny was often rather shaken up after a quest, and usually asked her best friend to stick around for a while to discuss everything.

“I’m actually doing alright. I know we saved the entire Spiral again, but honestly I was more freaked when Myrna almost punched the Empress.” (Catherine laughed at that, while Myrna huffed.) “You should go talk to Alhazred. Give the Order of the Fang an update. I’m sure they’ll call us back here soon, let’s be normal for now. I’m gonna go get all my things from my dorm. I was supposed to do that before we left.”

“About that,” Myrna interjected. After months at home, her accent was even stronger than it was when Destiny first met her. “I’ll be collecting my things and saying my goodbyes as well. Tarrack agreed to take me on as a student once again, and I am needed in Polaris. I cannot be around Ravenwood anymore, anyway. Knowing that Professor Drake and Headmaster Ambrose lied to me all these years, I can’t stand it.”

Destiny’s heart sank a little. She'd known when she'd graduated that things were going to begin changing, but she hadn’t realized it would be so soon. “That sounds really great, Myr. I’ll miss you, though. And you’re telling Shawna, not me.”

“Of course,” Myrna responded. The usually stoic Polarian had tears forming in her eyes, and they all fell quiet.

Catherine took the silence as an opportunity to say her goodbyes. She hugged Destiny tightly, and promised to come see her the next day. Then she turned to the others. “Mellori, it was an honor adventuring with you! Good luck at Ravenwood, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” She offered her hand, and Mellori shook it with a smile of her own.

“Looking forward to it,” the younger girl responded with a grin.

“Myrna, it was really nice to see you again, I hope this won’t be the last time. And honestly, I think you’ll do incredible things for your people. You’re their lost princess, I saw the hope you brought them.” Catherine held up her arms gingerly, unsure if Myrna would accept a hug.

The Thaumaturge allowed it, embracing the Sorcerer briefly. “Thank you, Catherine. I hope to see you again as well.”

Catherine gave Destiny one last hug before leaving the group for the world door, pulling out a key and stepping through to Krokotopia.

“Mellori, come on,” Destiny beckoned as she turned back to her remaining friends. “We’ll bring you to Ravenwood.”

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Mellori groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“We’re going back there anyway, and you should be introduced to everyone properly. Seems like Baba Yaga has already spoken to Ambrose, so we’ll bring you right to Mr Lincoln and then Professor Wu. And we’ll introduce you to Shawna and Neela. I'm not chaperoning you, I’m being a friend.”

“Okay, I guess that doesn’t sound terrible,” Mellori agreed sheepishly, and the three of them followed Catherine’s path to the world door.

They ascended the platform, and Destiny reached into her satchel and pulled out the correct spiral key. She inserted it into the lock and opened the door, gesturing for the others to go first. They stepped out into Bartleby, and Destiny frowned, seeing the dead leaves scattered around the floor of his chamber. An odd, tingly pit formed in her stomach. Something felt…off. She could tell he’d gotten worse.

When they stepped outside, she could hear the great tree groaning. She couldn't understand him, but she was distracted by Shawna before she could stop to try. The fairy was hovering in front of Bartleby and chatting with Arthur Wethersfield, but she looked up at the sight of her friends emerging.

“Destiny! Myrna! How was Polaris? Who’s this? I’m Shawna, I’m a Theurgist! And a fairy. I’m from Avalon. Where are you from?”

Destiny laughed at her friend’s familiarly fast speech. She and Myrna both embraced the third member of their trio eagerly. “We missed you, Shawna,” Destiny smiled. “This is Mellori, she’s from Polaris as well, and she’s come here to study Theurgy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mellori added, offering a hand.

Shawna grabbed it and shook it enthusiastically. “Alright! That’s amazing! Let’s go see Moolinda! She’ll be glad to meet you!”

“Mr Lincoln first,” Destiny interjected. “She has to fill out the paperwork.”

“You do that,” Myrna smiled weakly, her resolve clearly weakened by seeing her best friend again. “I must return to my dorm.”

Destiny nodded. “I’ll send her your way when we’re done,” she whispered. Myrna gave a small smile before leaving.

Shawna waved goodbye as she led Mellori to where Mr Lincoln stood, explaining Ravenwood to the new girl like she once had to Destiny. Mellori listened intently as she filled out the consent and allergy forms, and snipped off a lock of her hair. As soon as they were done, Shawna immediately guided Mellori over to the Life School before Mr Lincoln could even finish his welcome speech.

Destiny half listened to Shawna’s continued explanation as she followed. Shawna GoldHeart and Abby Doodle each had signature RA welcome speeches that worked very well, but they both gave the same one every time. And as much as Destiny loved her friend, she could only listen to the same speech so many times. As her mind wandered, she considered all that she had to get done before she was inevitably summoned again. Besides fully leaving Ravenwood, she had to catch up with Neela, at the very least. But she made a note to go visit Alia as well. The Diviner would definitely want to meet Qyburn, both as a scholar of Astral magic, and as a fellow Celestian. Most of all, though, Destiny really wanted to find Malorn. She hadn’t spoken to him at all since her graduation, even though she had really intended to seek him out before leaving for Polaris. Everything he’d said to her had broken her heart, and his promise to wait for her had remained at the top of her mind. Now, she really needed to see him, both because he was one of her best friends, and because she was realizing that she wanted to be more than that.

She’d had a crush on him for years now. Ever since he'd picked her up and spun her around in circles when she came home with the Spiral Cup all those years ago. She’d been thirteen going on fourteen, he’d been fifteen, and she’d suddenly begun to see him in a brand new light. Destiny had largely been able to ignore her feelings, though Catherine heard all about them on many sleepless nights in foreign worlds. Destiny had, in turn, happily listened to Catherine talk about her own crush back in Krokotopia, Tiye.

After a moment, she realized talking to Malorn was her easiest goal. Under the pretense of saying “hi” to Ivan, Destiny walked out farther past the Life School for a moment, craning her neck to look around to the Death School’s chasm. She spotted him conducting class with a number of apprentices. She’d talk to him as soon as she could, but for now she led her friends inside.

Destiny was the one to introduce Mellori to Professor Wu, and she was glad to see that Mellori seemed to perk up as the conversation continued and she saw she would not be stuck in with the novices. Instead, she’d be assessed and placed in the correct classes for her skill level. Moolinda seemed to take a liking to Mellori, and dismissed the older girls so she could talk more with her new student. Shawna looked excited to start the typical barrage of questions Destiny always answered after returning from a quest, but Destiny stopped her.

“Is Neela around?” she asked first. “I think she and Mellori will get along.”

“Oh I wish! They totally will, won’t they? But no, she’s off in the Sunken City. She’s collecting samples and stuff for Dworgyn. I offered to come, but she said she wanted to fight the Grub herself. She’ll be back tomorrow. But I can’t wait! Tell me all about Polaris! Mellori said you totally saved the world!”

“I’ll explain everything, but you need to talk to Myrna first. She has some big news, and you should hear it from her.”

Shawna frowned, a rare expression for her. “Okay,” she agreed, dropping down to her feet from her previously fluttering wings. Destiny watched her head back to the dorms, knowing they'd have to face the reality of their trio splitting up sooner rather than later. She was not looking forward to it.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by another familiar voice. “Dez!” it called, and Destiny smiled. She turned back towards it and saw Malorn running right for her. He nearly knocked her over with the force of his hug, catching her off guard for once. Usually the bells on his hat let her know he was nearby.

“Hi,” she giggled, holding on to him tightly for stability’s sake. And also because she was very glad to see him. “I missed you. I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, as soon as Myrna heard ‘Polaris’ she was ready to go.”

“It’s okay, Dez, really,” he murmured in her ear before pulling back slightly, still not letting go of her. “Don’t apologize for saving us yet again. And I figured as much when I heard her screaming at Cyrus about the key.”

“Yeah. She’s decided to move back permanently. She’s packing up her dorm now. I’ve gotta do the same.”

“Are you sure you’re up to that right now?” he asked, concerned, and she faltered.

She wasn’t, she realized. Myrna was packing up to go back home, but that dorm was all Destiny had ever known as home. In the orphanage, she’d shared a room with ten other girls and had almost no possessions of her own. It had been the only home she’d known for eleven long years, but it had never really been hers. Her dorm and all she’d acquired to decorate it were the first things that had ever fully belonged to her. She had gold saved up, so she could buy a house. But all of a sudden, the realization that she had to leave her first real home was setting in, and she began to cry.

Malorn quickly reached up and wiped her tears away. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to do it right away. Let’s go back to my place. You kind of look like you need a nap.”

“Are you sure?” she sniffed, trying to hold her voice steady. “I mean, I can just go back to my dorm. I can sleep there”

“Dez,” he said softly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Her heart melted a little. He'd always called her that, and he’d always been the only one who did. “I told you at your graduation that I’d be here for you. Here I am. C’mon, let me do this for you. I’ll make us some food, too. Seriously, I’m happy to.”

“Okay,” she sniffed and grabbed his hand tightly. She’d realized that she absolutely did not want to let go of him. He led her gently towards the tunnel to the Commons, on the way to Olde Town. Destiny ducked her head as everyone they passed stared at her. She hated her reputation, and hated the way everyone seemed to revere her. Everyone called her a hero, sure, and she was proud of what she’d done for the most part, but all she’d ever wanted was to fit in. When she’d first enrolled, she’d thought she finally would, but as soon as she became Ambrose’s favorite student, that dream was dashed. And even in the Spiral, her eyes and her visions still set her apart.

Malorn didn't treat her differently, though. He never had. He’d always been kind to her, and he’d always understood her. Even now, he just guided her down the familiar route to his apartment, unlocking the door and leading her inside. He led her to his bedroom without a second thought and pulled back the rumpled covers, finally releasing her hand. Her own hand felt empty now. “Sleep please, Dez,” he begged. “You’re crashing right now, I can tell.”

She couldn't argue, so she unlaced her boots, pulled off her satchel and coat, piled them on a chair with her staff, and climbed into his bed at his insistence. His sheets smelled like him, fresh grave dirt and the Wisterian cologne he’d taken a liking to after she’d gotten him a bottle as a souvenir. She closed her eyes and slipped into slumber quickly, not noticing his smile as he watched her drift off.

Dreams came, as they always did, but these ones were bad. She saw flashes of Malistaire stealing Bartleby’s eye, of the great tree’s roots drying up, and of a grove of smaller white trees that had already died, floating in the aethyr. She saw herself standing in the grove, growing roots from her feet and branches from her arms, surrounded by dead husks of all the school trees. Raven looked over the scene with a disapproving glare.

Destiny began to panic, until suddenly a voice called and she was startled awake. “Destiny, it’s okay! You were having a nightmare.”

She opened her eyes with a start to see Malorn crouched down to her eye level, his hand on her shoulder. It was dark outside the window, and he’d taken off his own shoes, hat, and outer layers. She could smell something cooking.

Realizing her cheeks were wet, Destiny sat up quickly, wiping her eyes and pushing back her now horribly tangled curls. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them as she breathed heavily. “I’m fine. I have them a lot,” she admitted. “They’re like my visions, but they’re not always as literal. The dreams are usually more symbolic of something coming or that’s already happened, but the visions show me events exactly as they play out.”

Malorn sat down on the bed as well, looking at her sympathetically. “That sounds pretty terrifying,” he offered with a frown.

She snorted. “Yeah. I’ve had them since I was a kid back on Earth. They weren’t so clear back then, since there wasn’t much mana, but they still made me weird. I was so excited when I came here and thought I had an explanation, but I’m still a freak. No one else has these visions, and no one knows why I do.”

“Hey, you’re not a freak. I’ve always thought your visions were cool. You’re powerful, that’s all.”

“I never wanted to be powerful. I just wanted to be normal. But everyone’s always known I’m not. They pick me out and tear me apart for it. Like, when I was a kid, I had this crush on a boy at school, and I thought he liked me, too. But one time, when I thought he was gonna kiss me under the slide, he rolled his eyes back in his head and started screaming. He was making fun of me. That’s how everyone treated me. It’s not much better coming here and having everyone still think my visions are weird, and being scared of me, or jealous that I’m Ambrose’s pet.”

She’d brought up her feelings about the subject to Malorn before, but never in depth like this. Destiny looked up and met his eyes, half expecting him to look confused or annoyed. She knew she should be grateful for being naturally gifted, but she really just wanted to be like everyone else. At this point, though, she knew full well that would never happen.

The only thing in Malorn’s eyes, however, was kindness. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, before he began to speak. “There’s this girl who was here before you. Her name was Maria CloudCoin. She was a Diviner, and I had the biggest crush on her years ago, back before Malistaire left. Right after he did, everyone was really suspicious of his students. I mean, you saw some of it, but it was even worse early on. And she really, really thought we were going to follow in his footsteps. Right after Ambrose asked me to start teaching everyone who didn’t move to independent study, she marched right up to me and said she knew that I was recruiting new students to be in Malistaire’s evil army. She smacked me, right there in Ravenwood, and she got in really big trouble with Cyrus. I think he got her expelled. But after that, people still seemed to take her accusations seriously. Most people are over it now, and they all seem to like me well enough, but I still have to explain myself sometimes, especially since Duncan left. And I’m glad that I have this job. I like teaching young students. But I still feel like I’m carrying all this weight on my shoulders just to still be called evil. I know it’s not the same, but… I get it Dez, you know? And you never have to apologize for how you feel. Not to me.”

Destiny’s tears returned as she listened to Malorn’s story. She lowered her knees to sit cross-legged, reaching out her hands to take his. “I’m sorry, Malorn. I didn’t realize you were still dealing with that.”

“It’s not really common anymore, mostly thanks to you. People generally seem to like me now, I think. They like you, too. They’re just a little intimidated.”

Destiny sighed. “Of course they like you, you’re amazing. I don’t think they’ll come around the same way for me.”

“Sure they will. One day, everyone’s going to recognize all the amazing things I’ve always seen in you."

“Well, thank you. I hope you’re right,” she responded simply, beginning to feel a little overwhelmed by Malorn’s confidence in her good qualities.

“I know I am,” he grinned. “They will come around. And not just because you’re beautiful, because according to Neela that’s a part of why everyone came around on me. I don’t think that’s fully true, though.”

This caught Destiny completely off guard. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I don’t just think you’re beautiful, Dez,” he remarked so casually she thought she might die, “It's an objective fact.”

Destiny let out a high pitched laugh, trying to cover how fast her heart was beating. “Thank you for saying that, if it’s true. But what do you mean about Neela?”

She knew exactly what he meant. Malorn was really cute, and all the novices noticed it. Neela had mentioned her classmates being jealous of Destiny and Malorn’s friendship, and Destiny had personally observed plenty of young students attempting to flirt with him. But she hadn’t realized Malorn knew about all that.

“I meant that Neela told me there are some kids that choose to be Necromancers because they think I’m cute. But seriously, I think she’s just messing with me.”

“No,” Destiny sighed, “she’s right. I’ve seen it too. It makes sense, you are really cute.”

Malorn’s tan cheeks tinged with pink, and she realized they’ve just made their position rather compromising. “Really?” he asked, suddenly very awkward, and Destiny buried her face in her palms to hide her own blush.

“Yeah, of course,” she responded, though it’s garbled a little by her hands. “You’ve got that mysterious vibe, you know? And you are good-looking.” She finally looked up to see him grinning like an idiot.

“You think so? You’re not messing with me?”

She rolled her eyes and moved again, sitting up on her knees. “Of course not. I have eyes. And I know you. How come I’m supposed to just accept that I’m beautiful, but you don’t believe you’re cute?”

He laughed, and seemed to speak before he could catch himself. “Because I and everyone else in the world have eyes, too. But I’m trying to figure out if I'm cute enough that you wouldn’t mind if I-” he cut himself off, looking embarrassed.

“If you what?” she asked, breathless as her heart skipped a beat.

“If I kissed you,” he said finally, breaking her gaze. “I’m sorry, Dez, I made it weird.”

Destiny's brain went blank. She could only stare at Malorn for a moment as she slowly processed that he was harboring the same feelings for her that she felt for him. As it finally clicked in her mind, she immediately reached up to touch his cheek. “Actually,” she began shyly, “I’d really like it if you kissed me right now.”

He instantly looked up at her, searching her eyes to make sure she was serious. When he saw that she was, he quickly leaned forward to capture her lips with his, one hand beside her on the mattress for balance as the other cupped her jaw. Her hands found their way to his jaw as well, and she smiled as she kissed him back enthusiastically.

When they finally broke the kiss, she couldn't do anything but stare into his eyes, an uncontrollable smile on her face. He seemed much the same, planting another brief kiss on her lips.

“Stay the night here,” he offered. “I made varenyky, like you showed me a few months ago. It’s all ready. And tomorrow, I’ll help you clean out your dorm. But you really deserve to just rest, and relax.”

“Oh, Malorn,” she sighed, “thank you.” She was a little overwhelmed by his care. Varenyky, cooked just like the nuns made it, had always been her favorite food, especially when she was upset. She’d shown him how to make it a little while after her defeat of Morganthe, when he’d wanted to help her cope with her guilt over Azteca and everything else. She was honored he’d remembered how to make it.

“I really appreciate it,” she continued, “but I don’t want to impose on you. You don't have to always take care of me or anything.” She wasn’t quite sure how they stood. Was he offering out of obligation? Did he really want her to stay? Were they still just friends, or did he also want to be something more? She felt like she had to clarify. If she assumed, she could ruin everything.

“Destiny,” he snorted, taking a hold of her hands, “I offered. I told you I’m here for you, and I mean it. I like taking care of you, and I know you’d do the same for me. You’ll have to get used to this if we’re going to… well you know.”

“If we’re going to what?” she asked, her stomach fluttering. She really hoped she knew where this was going.

“Well, I’d like to ask you to be my girlfriend. And I was really hoping you’d say yes. But if you do, you’ll definitely have to get used to me taking care of you when you need it.”

Destiny beamed. She couldn't help it. “Okay, fine. I accept your terms, Ashthorn.”

He laughed. “Glad we could reach an agreement, DreamWielder.” He leaned in for another kiss, and Destiny sighed as their lips met again. The scholars were going to call her back again soon. She’d been initiated into the Arcanum. Ravenwood wasn’t her home anymore. She needed to find a new house. Myrna was leaving. Shawna wouldn't be her neighbor anymore. Everything was changing. But that didn't matter right now. This new relationship with Malorn was definitely a change, but it was a really, really good one. One she’d wanted for a long time. And she really wanted to stay like this, with him, forever.

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poisonouswritings · 2 years

Note

Ahh shiz the brainworms got out again-

* worm delivers request to you*

Ahem anyways, can I request a last legacy fic with the main 3 or 4 (specifically knight wife anisa) and a s/o that somehow gets transformed into a Ilephta (probably because of Felix's spells) for like a day and how their li reacts to their s/o purring and doing the doggy foot thump (I'd be fun if s/o is like a mix between cat and dog ilephta) all while their li is torn between making felix fix their s/o and maybe they should stay this way...

Well anyway thanks for listening to my rambling but I've gotta get these brainworms back before they cause any damage!

Ps. Steve the brainworm like you and your writing!

Thank you Steve! An excellent delivery. 12/10 little FedEx dude

I do have a couple MC!Ilephta posts that I'll link here too because I should be allowed to shill my own shit sometimes for your convenience

What Ilephta Best Fits the M4

Felix With A Cat Ilephta!MC

Sage and Ilephta!MC

More Sage and Ilephta!MC

Sage Petting Cat Ilephta!MC

^also Disney Anon I was going through my asks and I saw you asked about Sage with a cat ilephta!MC a little while ago so you can check out this one!

GN!Reader, I'm not specifying which animal you are but you have both dog and cat characteristics that switch depending on the moment so do with that as you will, very minor catnip joke, The Starsworn Share A Braincell

-----

You have got to stop offering to help Felix test his spells.

It's a perfectly average day when Anisa and Sage return to Fathom. They'd spent the whole afternoon out chasing a bounty together, and it's been a very good reminder of Why Sage Could Never Be In The Sunstone Knights and Why Anisa Could Never Be A Griefer! They're friends but they are [] this close to killing each other. So You and Felix totally need to get in there and diffuse the situation a little bit.

And it's as they're coming in through the main entrance that they see you, laying on your back, snoozing in a sunbeam. You, their usually-human friend/partner, with fluffy ears and a fluffy tail. And when you yawn, you have fangs. Maybe you even have marks on your cheeks.

They also see Felix, crouched over you and scribbling in a notebook with a quill.

And Stella, who is batting your tail around.

When Felix does finally acknowledge everyone (which doesn't happen until Sage literally picks him up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten), he explains that he was testing a spell to improve agility and you'd offered to be his subject! And it had. Well. Unintended side effects.

It's about then that you stretch out and wake up with a yawn, fangs glinting in the sunlight and sliver-pupils widening and contracting. Your tail wags in excitement when you see your partner.

-----

Felix Escellun

Yes, Felix is aware that he massively screwed up. But he's also aware that you're adorable and this is probably the best he's ever screwed up, ever. So.

You two are in his study, you curled up in a sunbeam to nap and Stella curled up against your side. Cats sleep 12-16 hours a day and dogs sleep 12-14 hours a day so you nap a lot! Felix, with his perpetually terrible sleep-schedule and night owl tendencies, is more than happy to nap with you.

He wakes you up by petting you,, soft,,,

Once you're awake, it's play time! He pulls out your trusty laser pointer and starts pointing it around. You know what he's doing but your instincts refuse to let you ignore it.

(If you're in a poly with Rime then he breaks out the rest of the cat toys, and the boys team up to bully play with you.)

Felix decides that with your new superior sense of smell, you should help him hunt for ingredients for a potion he wants to try making! Also it'll take a potion to reverse this spell so like. Two-fer.

So you guys go out to the forest. He's got some samples of what you need, and he holds them out to you wrapped up in a handkerchief.

"Felix, I'm not a bloodhound! I can't" *pauses* *starts sniffing the air*

"Pardon, love, a what hound?"

*grabs his arm and pulls him along* "This way!"

"Darling, what in the world is a bloodhound!? Is it some demented sort of hellhound that goes after all the living instead of solely the damned?"

You continue yanking him along, your brain totally hyperfocused on the scent you've picked up.

You two pick your way through the forest. On the bright side his spell partially worked!! You now have cat-like agility and dog-like speed, so you're running circles around him. You have to help him across a tree-trunk bridge (you have heightened balance and we'll assume a little bit of extra strength since all the ilephta characters seem to be physically very strong) and he's clinging to you while complaining that He Could Have Just Portal-ed You Across!

Felix walking around,, trying not to trip on roots,, nose buried in his book,,, you keep zipping around him,,,, you're not used to this level of speed so you run face-first into a tree more than once,,,, he fusses over you every time (nearly dropping his book more than once) but is also trying not to laugh a bit.

He's not used to walking around so much so you'll have to stop and take multiple breaks throughout the day. If you start getting restless then he pets you and that's enough to calm you down.

Middle of hunting,, you just plop down in a sunbeam and be like 'okai nap time :3' and now Felix is dying because The Forest Is Not A Place To Sleep Because There Are Dangerous Creatures Afoot!! But Also You Are Very Cute And He Is hesitant to wake you up.

If this is after Nyacromancy then like. Like. He gets it.

Anisa Anka

Anisa has hair poofs when she's startled... you get hair/fur poofs now and suddenly she understands why you're always teasing her. It's adorable.

Firstly she's checking on you, making sure you feel okay and everything. Then she's lecturing Felix. Then she finally gets a chance to properly fawn over you. Totally gives you a treat. And kisses. And constantly strokes your hair/fur. Just generally dotes. If you're a cat ilephta then some of her grooming instincts might come out? She's a half-ilephta so I'm not. entirely. sure how strong her instincts are.

You had made plans to help her out with patrol the next day. Initially she assumes you'll not want to go, and makes plans to call in sick so she can keep an eye on you, but hey! You're up and raring to go as soon as the birds start chirping (because you tried to pounce on them). You promise her you'll try your best to reel in your instincts but Boy oh Boy you just are not prepared

The day starts out relatively normal! You both head to the castle so Anisa can clock in and give out routes to the other kni- aaand you're biting the arm of a training dummy and thrashing it around a little bit. Like an attack dog. Okay then.

Then you start batting at a butterfly. Like a kitten. Okay then x2.

The other knights are trying so hard to avoid laughing, both because they respect Anisa immensely and also because she will not be happy if they make fun of you. Annie herself is trying really hard to ignore it but is also covering her mouth to not make it obvious shes laughing.

If you're helping with patrol then I guess you should probably be wearing a Sunstone uniform? Anisa had to help you pull it on and you kept biting at the strap and tugging on it and loosening it. Poor Annie. She cups your cheeks and sternly tells you to stop and then you do a little whine because 🥺 Oh No GF Mad 🥺 and she scritches behind your ears to calm you down.

Once everyone has been given their assignments and sent off, you two can finally head out. Anisa gave you a route through the marketplace so you'll have lots of stuff to do while you're all exciteable.

Both dogs and cats have way fewer taste buds than humans do. So Anisa buys you a ton of snacks (food is her love language) and you just,, can't taste,,, most of them. Or rather they're very dull. She makes sure not to feed you chocolate or grapes or anything else that could potentially be hazardous.

Anisa is a pretty popular public figure, and by extension, so are you. So you get more than one question about what's with the sudden ears and tail. Little kids try to get you to join in their games by throwing balls and Frisbees and stuff. More than one person offers you a treat.

You guys run into Ayanna,,, she thinks it's hilarious. Teaches you some little tips and tricks about how to navigate being an ilephta.

C...ca....catnip?? You and Ayanna smoking catnip??? Anisa coming to check on you and you're both high and Anisa is lecturing her mother but Ayanna is not listening even a little

Once your shift is over, you guys go back to the apartment for dinner and to unwind. Anisa even picked up groceries so you can cook together! How considerate :) and as she's pulling groceries out of the bag she happens to put a cucumbe-

You Get The Zoomies And Freak The Fuck Out and Promptly Tear Up The Kitchen. Then Run Away To The Living Room. Then Tear That Up. Then Hide Under The Overturned Couch.

Meanwhile Anisa is standing there, hair-puffed, holding the cucmber to her chest because What In Talos' Name Just Happened

You're incredibly embarrassed, but Anisa is sweet about it. She gives you lots of headpats, scratches, and kisses until you calm down. Then you guys can clean up together and make something that doesn't involve cucumbers.

Later on, you guys are laying in bed,, Anisa jokingly rubs your tummy and your leg starts kicking,,, she thinks it's the cutest thing ever. And if you purr? She's Dead.

Takes her hair ribbon out and kinda dances it around in the air for you,, you immediately start batting at it. Which turns into biting at it. Which turns into her trying to keep you from accidentally swallowing it.

You spot a mouse and immediately pounce after it,, promptly destroy the entire apartment again,,, you didn't even catch it, it escaped out the open window,,, Anisa drags you off to bed and decides you guys will just clean it up tomorrow instead.

Sage Lesath

Okay I'm gonna get it out of the way now all the new sounds and smells are very overstimulating and you're kinda running around a lot and Sage has to keep chasing after you and one time he's holding you from behind so you can calm down and he grins and flashes his fangs and says if you don't settle down, well, he'll have no choice but to put you on a leash-

No but Sage is fucking enamoured and he's genuinely considering begging Felix to say there's no way to reverse it so you'll just stay like this permanently.

I mean not. Like. Literally because he wouldn't just do that. But if you did decide to remain an ilephta I think he would never stop smiling.

You guys head out to the tavern to start your day and pick a bounty and all, and the entire time Sage calling you his Puppy/Kitty. Emphasis on his. Now that you're an ilephta, you're able to smell exactly how much Sage has been scent-marking you. And whenever someone compliments you/is a little too flirty, Sage slyly rubs up against your back just to give you that little extra mark.

Possessive Kitty Possessive Kitty Possessive Kitty

Side note with how much I love doing jealous/possessive Sage,, like I really should just do a yandere thing at some point. It's sort of an x reader hallmark. I don't have much of an idea though so we'll see how it goes

In the tavern,, you have a drink (either alcohol or water or whatever you want) and you kinda lap at it like a dog would,, Sage thinks it's adorable

Yes he makes a joke about what else your tongue can do ;3

Okay okay okay hear me out,,, Ilephta!MC experiencing a heat,,,, ehehehehe,,,,,

Anyways, you guys have a bounty to go after! So once you've got some food, you head out into town and get to tracking. With your super-senses working together, you two are able to track the criminal down pretty easy. Now you just gotta catch up to the- oh you're already running

Sage watches in a mixture of awe and amusement as you go sprinting off like an arrow. Normally he'd be concerned about you taking down a bounty yourself, but your prey is so surprised by the sudden exciteable cat/dog/fluffy person suddenly pouncing on them and pinning them down. Your tail is wagging with pride at your catch and you look up at Sage with the cutest expression and You Deserve A Treat!! Sage promises he'll get you something after you bring the bounty in.

You spend the entire walk back staring at Sage's tail,, randomly batting at it,,, biting it once or twice,,,, Initially Sage is amused but he's gradually getting more and more flustered. He tells you that if you don't knock it off you guys are gonna have to take a detour ;)

As you hand over the bounty, the guard starts flirting with Sage. So you promptly wrap your arms around him from behind and start rubbing your face against his back to scent mark him. He's both a little turned on and also incredibly flustered about it because It Makes Him Happy To Know He's Yours.

Love bites,,, You'll be zoned out and then suddenly start nomming on him,,, tail curling around his wrist,,,,

You're sitting on his lap,, he's petting you all over,,, you start kneading biscuts against the floor/table/whatever and Sage is internally squealing,, Is this why you constantly tease him for being a cat? Suddenly He Gets It.

He brushes your fur,, You keep growling and biting the brush,, he's as soft as he can be but snags are inevitable. When you stop growling/biting, he makes sure to kiss the top of your head and praise you for being so good. Once he's done you fall back against him,, reclined against his lower stomach,,, smiling,,, and doing that slow blink things cats do when they're content,, your tail is wagging,,,,

He's so in love with you he feels like he needs to cough up a hairball.

#fictif #fictif last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #anisa anka #sage lesath #felix escellun

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