#maybe Neia will get a figure next

[lord-momonga]

Today belongs to the Insect Maid

[bottlecaprabbitgames]

The Fervent Fox's Hole (A Neia NSFW Fanfiction)

Yes. You read correctly. I am the first person to write a Neia fanfic, and best believe your asses it's not even close to the last. I WILL single-handedly populate all of AO3 if I must. (And if you read the other fics on there, buddy, good luck for your sanity. Really.)

AO3 link

THIS IS NSFW!!! WARNING, WARNING, IT'S HELLA GAY, AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, WELL DON'T READ IT!

@anathemafiction Hi, I'm so sorry to @ you but I'm very proud of myself and I'm incredibly, obscenely even, insanely, in love with Neia. I just can't get enough of her. She has my whole heart and soul and I've maybe gotten 3 hours of sleep the last few nights because of her LMAO

It had been a long day. One that left Neia’s temper roiling under her skin, and a particularly annoying twitch had started in one of her eyes. All she wanted to do was get back to her room at the Fervent Fox’s Hole, a no-ask no-tell inn that’s costing a pretty copper at this point. 

And that also has her temper fuming. The job she’s working on? Fucked more than her damned situation at the moment. Her lack of sleep because the goddamned neighboring room’s owner can’t keep his mouth shut at the crack of dawn? It took all of her remaining willpower to not run the bastard through just to save herself any further annoyance. 

The final straw was the damnable sky opening and pouring itself down upon her head before she was even halfway to the inn. 

At this point, should any sorry sod cross her even one more time on this day, she’s as likely to cut them down as she is to beat them to death with her very fists. Truth be told, part of her hopes someone has the fool notion to push her over the edge. A part of her that craves the bloodshed and violence. 

She slams the inn’s holey dark oak door on her way inside, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth creak at the pressure. She knocks some drunken idiot out of her way in her pursuit to the bar, her lip curling as she hears something break. The bar’s tender casts one look between the crashed drunk and her and seems to think better of the no doubt snarky comment he’d originally planned to say. “What can I get for you?” 

“Something strong enough to kill a lesser man. And make it quick.” She leans her elbows on the bar, one of her thumbs running along the scar that splits her lips absent-mindedly. Exhaustion is starting to sink its claws into her, making the muscles in her arms ache and the pains in her feet are starting to bite. But sleep will simply evade her; she’s too riled. Too angry. 

She comes back to the little dingy bar as a large glass of dark amber liquid is sat in front of her in a half-sized mug. She throws it back, finishing it in one go. It burns her throat viciously, and for a moment her empty stomach twists sickeningly, but it dies down just as fast. She sets it back on the bar so hard it nearly cracks apart. “Another.” 

“Didn’t take you for someone to drink devil’s piss,” she hears a familiar voice remark next to her. She slowly turns her hooded head to look at its owner, her temper making her lips pull into a vicious smirk. The person is in a hooded cape, but she can make out their lower face: fair skin, full lips pulled into a smirk of their own, showing some of their teeth. 

“Didn’t fucking ask your opinion either, so fuck off.” 

“Mmm, I think I’ll stick around for just a bit longer.” The figure turns to face her… and she immediately recognizes your face, the blue-grey eyes that had danced with a hunger of their own the last time she’d seen you, after she’d culled that idiotic bastard Aurelius. 

The anger inside of her blisters into a whole different kind of feeling: hunger. Greed. Need. God, how long had it been? Can’t walk out into public, and most people were immediately skittish when her eyes turned on them.

But not you. 

“Now, what do you think you’re doing here, sweetling?” 

—---

“I could ask you the same, no?” 

You sip on your glass of wine, more than aware of that golden-eyed gaze burning holes into you. Her eyes had changed from blatant anger and violence to… unabashed hunger. Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. 

“I could ask what inquisition you’re expecting to find in such a dim, dratty place.” You take another sip, trying to gather your courage. It seemed so easy, to follow her and confront her here… and see if her interest was still there. But, now that you’re here, well… 

“Mmm, but I asked first, and I let you get away without telling me answers last time…” She takes a swig of her liquor, rolling her lips as she stares into the glass. “But now… I’m not running at a deadline. And I can tell you’re here for a reason. So. What is it?”

“Uh, well…” You down the rest of your wine, and take a deep, steadying breath. Your heart is beating so fast and hard, it feels like it might leap out of your very chest and flop about on the counter. It doesn’t help when her eyes return to you, and you can feel her gaze like a physical caress. “I’d hope you remember what we left off on. Last time, I mean.” 

A dark chuckle has her shoulders shaking, and you feel your face flush as you watch her tongue trace her upper lip. “Oh, I more than remember, sweetling. So, you tracked me all the way here for carnal pleasure?” 

“Well, when you put it that way-” 

You break off mid-sentence when she quickly slips off the stool and is in your space a lot faster than you ever thought her able. Her lips brush the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “Are you coming to my room with me or not?” 

“Definitely. Yes.” Your words come out in a flurry of breath, your insides alight with butterflies and squirming and God help you, but you’d do anything right now to get her to touch you. Even if it was only her hand around your throat, her teeth on your neck, her body pressing yours into a wall-

Focus. She lets out a sound of eagerness as she leans away, giving you just enough room to get off your stool. Her hand snakes its way to your lower back and pushing lightly as she leads the way to the stairs and onwards to her room. The stairway is barely wide enough for both of you to walk side by side, and your bodies constantly brush against one another until you reach the hallway, and she spares no time unlocking the door and throwing it open, nearly ripping the knob off as she does so. 

You quickly move inside, pulling your cape off as you do so, and looking around the room. There’s a double poster bed against the center of the wall with a dark bedspread. A small dresser sits in a corner next to it, a wash bin is set to the right of the window, and you see a weathered bag dropped to the floor near the bed-

That’s all you get to look, before a warm hand grabs your hip as the other turns your cheek until you can lock eyes with Neia and her golden eyes. Her pupils are blown, her eyes nearly black as first, she meets your gaze, then… her eyes move to your lips, which slightly fall open. Her thin lips twist into a hungry grimace as she stares at them, and as your heart beat starts to thud in your ears, her lips slant across yours. 

Her kiss is far from gentle, and her lips… they’re softer than you expected. They pull eagerly at your own, and you can’t stop the soft groan that bubbles from your own as her tongue begins to tease. You turn fully into her, one of your hands burying into her beautiful, snow white hair. Its damp locks cling to your fingers as she finally fully deepens the kiss, turning it into a devouring clash of teeth and lips and tongues. 

Your other hand starts to work at her armor as she backs you up against a wall with a loud moan, her interest just as clear as yours. She pulls away from your bruising lips to nip and suckle at your neck, no doubt leaving marks there that’ll be visible on the morrow. Marks you look forward to seeing after this. 

“Spread your legs, sweetling,” she grunts in your ear, before pulling back enough to undo her cuirass, then the chainmail around her upper arms. As you do so, her armors crash to the floor in loud thuds, and when she pushes between your knees with her own hips… the warm pulsing in your nethers starts to make your knees weak, and your body is overwarm… but you’re more than happy to feel her weight push you into the wall. One of those strong, agile hands that so gracefully wield her greatsword is now quickly undoing the buttons to your shirt while the other spreads across your stomach. Your breathing flutters as she also undoes your breast band… and you shrug them both off, to bunch behind your back. 

Her eyes hungrily move over your bare chest, and you gasp when she trails a finger down the peak of your breast, her lip curling into a smirk as your back arches. Her hands fall away long enough to pull off her own undershirt and breast band. Your breath catches. 

She’s… God help you. She’s gorgeous. Well, you already thought that, with that scar that runs through her lips and cheek, the way her muscles flex in her arms, but the criss-crossing scars across her stomach, the way her chest moves with every heaving breath while she watches you with a hunger you’ve never seen another have when regarding you… It leaves you barely able to draw breath, makes heat coil in your stomach, a needy heat that begs for you both to be naked already and her hand-

“Mmmmm, sweetling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and I’m gonna ruin my fun,” she almost hisses as her hand wraps around your one of your thighs and pushes her hips against your core, a dangerous expression dancing across her features. The other hand lays flat above your head, effectively capturing you against her.

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” You tease as you slightly arch against her. Captured, indeed.

Not that you mind. Oh, you don’t mind at all, that’s for damn sure. You bury your fingers against the nape of her neck and draw her lips back to yours while your other hand roams her back… just as her hips start grinding against you. You don’t bother to try to stop the moan that rips from you, allowing her better access to your mouth as she finds a rhythm. 

Your hand moves down and slips under the hem of her pants, feeling the muscles of her hips flex as she moves against you. You can’t stop the noises that start to come easily between your panting breaths, your core throbbing from her ministrations. She growls as she rips her lips from yours and instead finds purchase on your neck, not bothering to be gentle this time. You cup her head to you, a dark part of yourself wanting her to leave marks. Wanting her to brutalize your neck with those marred lips and teeth she’s so fond of showing off. 

“Neia,” you whimper, ready to beg her. But for what, you don’t know; all you know is your legs are starting to give on you, turn to jelly and all you want is to keep feeling her, feel those strong fingers move against your folds directly, feel her move against you with nothing between you. 

She seems to feel the same, as she finally tears herself away from you, breathing so heavily that her breasts heave with them. “Neia,” you whimper. You need that sensation back. Badly. And it’s written across her face that she knows. She knows very  well. 

“Shhh,” she murmurs as she drags you to her by your pants, quickly undoing your belt and then eagerly stripping both pants and underwear off together. You shimmy out of them and step to the side. “Get on the bed. Keep your legs over the edge. Now.” 

You do as she says, the soft voice she’s using sending goosebumps over your skin. She follows closely behind, her fingers brushing your hips, her breasts brushing your back. It all sends currents to your core, all her touches to your over-sensitive skin. As you lay back, she kneels between your legs, and with a grin nothing short of pure evil and lust, she jerks you to where she wants you, holding your legs over her shoulders. 

And then her lips and tongue start to move against you. You let out a gasp that turns into a moan, and as you bury your hand in her hair, another rips from you that’s so loud you’re sure someone hears. 

Not that you care. Nothing matters except her lips and how they move, but you can’t help the whine that comes when she wraps one hand around your wrist and pulls it from her hair, then pins it to the bed. “Hands to yourself,” she teases darkly, and as much as your other hand itches to do the same, you instead grab the side of the bed as her tongue moves faster, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your entire body. You toes start to curl as the tension in your stomach tightens in a painfully pleasurable way, your eyes smashed closed as the sensations grow almost unbearable. 

And then it comes. Pleasure spreads through your body, heat radiating with it, and your hips buck against her but she holds you down, her efforts not stopping until your eyes are tearing up as you lightly push her away. As she stands, she moves your legs onto the bed, and when your eyes meet, a hazy smile covers her lips as she swipes her thumb along her lip. “Did you enjoy yourself, lovely? From the sounds you were making, I’d wager you did, but I’d like to hear you say it.” 

“I-” You laugh, feelings of warmth and contentment blanketing you right now. “It was… amazing. I more than enjoyed myself.” You bite your lip as you let your eyes run up and down her, and hers turn half-lidded at your look. “Your turn. Pants off, in the bed.” 

She grins, one so feral that it makes your breath catch as she kicks her boots off, slips her pants down her strong, muscular legs, her underwear going with. She approaches the bed, but she leans over you, one hand next to your side while the other cups your chin, looking you in the eye. 

“It’s cute that you think you give orders… but I’ll allow it. For now.” 

With that said, she climbs over you to straddle you. You wrap one of your legs around hers as she leans over you, one of her arms slipping under the pillows behind your shoulders, while the other grasps your wrist. She brings your hand to her lips, and presses kisses to your fingers, nibbling them, before guiding your hand to her nether lips. 

“You like to lead, huh?” You ask breathily as you start to gently touch her, exploring while teasing the nub that causes her breathing to become unsteady, shuttered breaths against your damp lips. 

“Is that so shocking?” She whispers as her other hand grips the bed tightly. Her lips brush yours with every word, distractingly, teasingly. 

“No. Fits you perfectly.” You chuckle as you kiss her, your fingers moving against her. Her breaths start to become sighs and grunts. When her body starts to grind against your hand, you feel more heat start to coil in your stomach again, your body warming for her again. 

It’ll be a long night. One you’re definitely looking forward to. 

You pull your lips away from hers and instead start to nip and kiss her neck, earning you a shudder from her. From her breathing, the way her hips are moving, she’s getting close. You let your hand stray from her hair to instead tease the sensitive flesh of her breasts, earning you a full moan from her. You let your nails lightly trace the scars covering her skin, then her nipples, all the while you quicken the motions of your other hand and kiss the hollow of her throat. 

Her body spasms over yours, harsh gasps coming from her as she shudders and quakes, and you keep your hand moving even as her hand moves to grip the headboard itself. There’s a groan from the metal just before she takes her hand away to move yours, and rolls off of you and onto her back, her legs spread open and her eyes closed. You watch her chest rise and fall with satisfaction, before glancing up to the bed frame. A hand print has been crushed into the metal… 

A spark of excitement goes through you at that. Calm yourself. 

“So… did you enjoy yourself, Ex-Head Inquisitor Neia?” You ask, feigning nonchalance, pretending to examine your nails while watching you out of the corner of your eye. 

Her lips pull into a smile as she chuckles. “Yes, I did, sweetling. However, I hope you’re not too tuckered out yet.” 

“Mmm, depends on what you have planned.” 

“We have a whole night and morning… I think you can use your imagination for what I have planned.” 

[synric-silversong]

Connections

Mentions: @neiablackwood @divergent-lines @savianblackwood @rangarinorli​

Kal’sin lagged behind as Synric made it into his room, so he left the door a crack open and set the crutches up against the bed, next to the chest, before laying down on the bed. He draped his hand over his forehead. 

In just a little amount of time, it felt like a whole new world opened with just a single new person; Neia. The name was familiar to him like how Meyorin, Faelynn, and Kal’sin where, but it held little to no emotion unlike Talren and the next new name, Norli. 

It had been hard to keep his calm when her name had been mentioned. 

Norli.

Why were the two people who conjured the most emotion nowhere near? They did not bring forth fear or dread, but concern and unease and a sense of something uncomplete. He wanted to know what that something was. Was it something he might have been doing before he'd gone through all this and lost his memories, or was it something related to those events that lead him to be in the state he was in now?

A groan escaped unwillingly as he rolled over to his side. His thoughts went still, and he was happy to have them that way.

So much thinking and acting in the last week, especially today, was wearing him thin. 

With eyes closed, he swam in the darkness of his own creation.

A small tickle touched his fingertips. His eyes opened blearily. Kal’sin’s bright green eyes stared at him, and then, the little dragon rubbed up against his fingers, before he sat down and stared back at him with big eyes.

There was a moment's silence.

“You can jump twice my height,” Synric said to the little dragon's desire. “I don’t need to pick you up.”

Kal’sin snorted, the end of his tail twitching, a stubbornness rushing through him, and in turn, communicating that Kal’sin was not going to leave him alone until he picked him up and set him on the bed.

That was finally.

For a moment, Synric felt that same anger flare he had felt when Neia had prodded him with words. However, Kal’sin didn’t budge at his emotion, didn’t flinch, and so that anger faded and slid into something more exhausting. 

Synric sat up, picked up the little dragon, whose excitement was more unbearable than the stubbornness. Small purrs of delight and chirps escaped the little dragon as Synric set him down beside him. Kal’sin did not stay there long. As soon as Synric collapsed back on the bed, the little dragon curled up against his chest and in between his arms.

“You’re spoiled. Did I always do that for you, give in?” He stroked the small leathery head. 

Kal’sin didn’t respond, he only put on what Synric was confirming each time he saw it, a smile on the dragon’s lips. 

“I’m going to assume that is a yes,” he chuckled, drawing the dragon in a little closer before letting him go. 

Kal’sin did not fight him; he simply went with the flow and stretched out side-ways. 

Thus, time went by in that comfort, and, slowly, that warm feeling faded away as Kal’sin fell into a deep sleep.

Synric didn’t hate the little dragon for doing what he did. Kal’sin had done it so often in the beginning that he assumed it was simply a complication of emotions, but now, he knew that calm feeling that came whenever Kal’sin was around was simply the little dragon’s strong connection to him encouraging that same sense of happiness he felt.

It was getting easier to figure out whose emotions were whose. Even so, he was beginning to wonder if maybe he should have Mey take Kal’sin away somewhere until he could figure out his own emotions first, instead of being so easily malipulated. 

Synric gave a short sigh and rubbed at his eyes. 

That feat would be literally impossible unless they locked Kal’sin in a cage; that would not happen, he would constantly feel the ache and loneliness and pain the little dragon felt. Negative emotions seemed to be stronger than the positive.

Synric allowed those thoughts to fade back into his mind, hopefully, to never return. While they faded, new ones began to emerge. He simply couldn’t lay in bed anymore and fall asleep it seemed. There was still too much to process and think. 

He had been, afterall, rude and impolite too both Mey and Neia, and guilt and regret were growing. Neia's first connection was a sincere hug and her eyes glowed with relief upon seeing him.

Have you tried peering into that darkness? He felt his anger flare, even now, at those words; emotions bubbling from a darkness of memories, begging him to remember, but nothing ever came.

Nothing ever would, even if he peered into them, he was certain.

Synric wondered then what their relationship was like before that. He also wondered now what had happened to Neia to bring her to this house after several days of watching Mey being distracted and concerned. 

The Tower. The building stood out amongst the town. He knew what that tower was, as he had known the path among the town’s different shops and vendors. He simply didn’t know if such information about the tower was from experience or from being told what it was, or reading about it. From what Neia say about his own warrant, he was wondering with a sharp pain in his heart, if it was from experience. And had Neia been in there as well?

Synric was quick to rub at both eyes this time, and he sat himself up, looking out towards the window and the sunlight coming through. 

Shortly after that, a knock came to the door, opening slightly from the pressure. Synric took a deep breath, expecting Mey and some sort of conversation of what had happened earlier, but instead it was Neia. 

He stared momentarily, taken off guard.

Neia gave him a soft smile. “Sorry, didn’t think the door would open so easily.” She paused, as looked a bit uncertain if she should wait or go inside. 

A smile took him, a sort of amusement catching him at how easy she was to read. 

“You can come in,” he motioned towards the chair and desk. 

Her gaze flickered to it, and then as she stepped in, took in the whole room.

A slow nod came as she made her way over to sit.

She’s never seen my room, he thought as he sat himself up and to the edge of the bed. That could mean two things, and both were neither ideas. 

Once Neia sat down, her attention focused back on him, and where he expected her to say something, she simply remained quiet. She had switched easily from being readable to being plain and closed up. 

“I’m sorry for losing my temper earlier,” Synric started a little more genuine. “As I explained, I don’t have memories, just the emotions attached. Being as you are my...sister,” he found himself saying slower than the rest of his speech. “I can assume that you know how to get under my skin?” He lifted a questionable eyebrow, though he let a small smile touch his lips.

She returned the smile with a little chuckle. “Unfortunately. It's my fault really. I honestly don’t understand how someone can lose all,” she stressed dramatically, “Their memory, I really just didn’t believe it, but,” she fell quiet for a second before giving a sharp nod. “I’ll try not to provoke, I promise.” 

Synric gave a soft nod, and leaned back a little on his arms, releasing the pressure he was feeling in his lower spine.

“So,” she started again, “Is it hard to get around and do things?” 

A genuine question, he realized by the look of curiosity in her eyes.

He gave her a nod. “Yes. From my understanding, it has been about a month or more of being unable to move.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve lost a lot of muscle mass.”

She snorted. “I would say, I mean you were pretty beefy for being a half-elf. You practically looked like a normal elf when you had your hood on. Now you look like I could easily throw you down in a fight.” She chuckled, clearly enjoying the thought.  

A curiosity sparked. He smiled softly. “You seem to know more than,” he paused.

“You can say Mey or Meyorin if you want with me. Savian doesn’t call her mom either.”

He stared a little taken back, how did she know? He nodded, keeping that new bit of information to himself. “I don’t need story details, in fact, I would rather not hear about it right now.” He said as his hand shifted to rest on Kal’sin elongated back. “But I’m curious how I used to act, behave, dress even, smaller things like that.”

Neia gave him a long, curious look before shrugging and nodding. “Okay, it makes sense. I don’t really know that much either. We really didn’t talk too much between the few years we reconnected. But that’s a story!” she said, smiling wide. “Let's see…” her eyes trailed around. Her gaze landed on his bow standing in the corner. She smiled brightly. “You talked about this all the time, a pride of yours. Do you know anything about it yet?”

He shook his head. “Only that I have no desire to lose it or break it.”

She nodded, gracefully standing up and making her way in a single step, it seemed, to the bow and then at his side on the bed. “You know what these lines are for?” She pointed to a series of runes he had noted before, but hadn’t known exactly why they had been placed there.

He shook his head, reeling back from the fear of her accidentally breaking it.  “I don’t know anything about it, but it looks like rune lines.” 

She nodded. “You showed me once, here, so what you said…”