#wolship fluff

[missazurerose]

“I…I never gave you a proper, real answer to your question when you asked me what I wanted.”

“Shall we finish our conversation then?”

“Yes. We should finally finish it.” She shifted, now straddling his lap so she could face him directly. “I wanted to find a place I could call home…and I never thought I’d find it…that I’d always be running from place to place with no end in sight.”

(Some very unimportant ramblings about fanfiction below the cut)

I swear I'm trying to do the whole "write the fanfic you want to see in the world" thing. I'm trying to do the DT tank quest rewrite. I've got some of it down. And it's not going to be the whole chain, I can tell you that. It's going to be like the last 2 quests around the time Handeloup says he's gonna tell Aymeric what the plan is then he's going to show up and get involved. I'm not built to rewrite the entire thing.

The problem is, I also want to play the game and gpose. Definitely can't do all three of those at once. Best I can do is scribble out some lines on my phone while Gaius yammers in the Praetorium and hope they make enough sense to use later.

Plus I got myself torn between "you should really finish it before 7.1 comes out' and 'you should really wait till after 7.1 comes out so you can new game+ it and make sure you've got all the details right.' And I think wait for new game+ to get caught up won. I've at least got time before the finale comes out.

It's about 3K words right now. But only about half of it is the role quest. The other half is fluff. Will it turn into smut? Probably not the odds are never zero. But I think it's going to stay fluff. Insert Brittany Broski kombucha gif here cause yes but no.

[redwayfarers]

(you) restless son

Fandom: FFXIV Ship: Nika/Artoirel Characters: Nika Perseis (WoL), Artoirel de Fortemps, Minfilia Warde (mentioned) Rating: Mature (direct references to sex, though the scene is fade to black) Words: 1795 Spoilers: Heavensward spoilers read on ao3

Nika’s visits to Ishgard have been few and far between recently, but every time he does go there, he makes sure to go straight to the Fortemps manor. It’s become something of a home, if you can count the presence of the few people he’s bonded with in this whole frozen hellhole. He hasn’t had a home in a long while, least of all in a person. It’s a strange feeling and something entirely too tender for Nika’s harsh hands, but it settled under his skin and it’s not going anywhere. 

He can’t complain all that much, really, when it affords him unlimited access to Artoirel. He likes Emmanellain just fine, and Edmont makes for a nice dinner buddy when he isn’t being a horrible parent to his sons.  But Artoirel is the heart of that whole oversized house for Nika; it’s his face rising amidst everyone else that makes his shoulders relax and his jaw unclench. When did he clench his jaw so much anyway? And more importantly, why is he noticing that? 

No matter. What matters is that time after he settles in his room, after he eats dinner, or lunch, or whenever he happened to burst upon their door like a cannonball, when he and Artoirel go to the grand salon with the big piano, drinks in hand, and find comfortable places on one of the couches. What matters is the way Artoirel loosens his collar, opens his throat up a little, and Nika can’t help but look at the way it bobs ever so slightly under his gaze. 

“Do I have something on my… throat?” Artoirel asks, confused, red in the face, and Nika looks at the glass in his hand. 

“No,” he says and rubs the side of his neck. “I just think you look better without the cravat.” 

“Such are the fashions of Ishgard, Nika.” 

“Fuck the fashions of Ishgard, Artoirel.” Nika looks at his own shirt, open at the front, and the length of his white boots. Artoirel follows suit; his eyes linger on the exposed skin of Nika’s chest. “Some of them, anyway.” 

“Not all of us can make that shirt look good,” Artoirel comments quietly. “You and Lord Stephanivien, perhaps. As for myself? The cravates are that much presentable.”

“Bah, you’re too prim and proper.” Nika puts a foot down. The heels echo in the otherwise silent room like a battle trumpet. It may be the drink he’s had, but his next words come out offensively shamelessly. “I like the way your collarbones look.” 

Artoirel huffs amicably and shakes his head. “You may look at them as you please, then,” he replies, though his voice is colored by something Nika doesn’t dare name. 

“Thank you for the permission.” Nika says as he downs the rest of his drink and pours himself another glass. “I will now proceed to indulge myself. At the grand piano, of course. Why would we go in the grand salon if not to play the fucking piano?” 

“I did want to show you a composition I have been working on in my leisure time,” Artoirel says. He sounds almost uncertain, half the size he usually is on the battlefield, or in the political arena of Ishgard. “What?” 

“You’re afraid I’m gonna hate it or something? Is that why you sound like you’re a kid meeting your idol for the first time?” 

Artoirel laughs in disbelief. “Nika, do you realize even an inkling of what weight your opinion carries? You are the Warrior of Light, the slayer of Nidhogg. You rode into Ishgard on a dragon - the first individual to have done so in history. You are one of Eorzea’s best living bards. Compared to you, I am but playing pretend.”  

Nika blinks. “Didn’t wanna be that hero you bring up,” he says. “If it was up to me, I’d be playing my little lute and singing about other people. But no, Minfilia had to use my arrow shooting prowess to kill a primal or two and now here I am.” The thought sticks to his skin even though he vehemently tries shaking it away. His heart aches for Minfilia still; the love he’s nursed for her feeds into his bloodstream. His knees will forever ache from kneeling at her feet, and the memories of her soft voice and gentle smiles and kind eyes will nurse them back to health. 

But recently, in the midst of all the grief he wears around his neck like a collar, he’s found it in himself to be angry at her. Angry she didn’t stop sending him when he asked her to. Angry she kissed his tears away only to send him off to his potential death afterwards. Angry she never told him, no, stop loving me, not until she fucking died and stayed in the aether, and he had to go see fucking Hydaelyn herself just so he could hear it. 

Artoirel does nothing of the sort. If anything, Nika feels like he’s stringing him along, pulling at his heart that wants nothing more than Nika’s presence. Artoirel never asked him to be the hero. Everything since he’s arrived in Ishgard has been Nika’s choice. Any hurt he feels about that shit he can lay at his own feet and use it to cut open his heart again. 

Nika drowns the entirety of his glass in one chug. “You give yourself too little credit,” he says. “Too fucking little.” He curls a hand around Artoirel’s slender shoulders to run his fingers over those biteable collarbones.

“Nika,” Artoirel goes to stand up just as Nika’s hand bends around his shoulders, and the height difference makes Nika take a step forward and his hand slides down to Artoirel’s waist. He holds it anyway. 

“Let’s go play the piano,” Nika says. His voice is gruff, stuffed to the brim with need and anger and yearning and the drunkenness of the whiskey and the warmth of Artoirel’s skin. “Let’s go play the fucking piano or I’m pinning you down on these overpriced floor covers.” 

Artoirel’s mouth opens and the tips of his ears burn bright red. His hand folds in a fist and he tries to look down, avoid Nika’s eyes, but the fact he’s tall as all fuck bites him in the ass so hard that he just ends up looking where he didn’t want to. Or did he want to? He shifts his body closer to Nika’s, hip to waist, and Nika’s fingers play over his shirt. 

“There’s a story,” he says. “I know of someone who supposedly had sex with her lovers in her grand salon and over the piano, specifically. That poor piano, I’d thought. Of course, I don’t normally follow that kind of rumor, but I’d overheard it and it stayed with me.” 

“Piano sex? What happened to walls, floors, or even good old fashioned beds?” Nika feels his face burn. Must be the drink, he thinks, even if he has to admit that Artoirel’s words are only making whatever need that’s already been here stronger. He doesn’t even know what Artoirel’s lips feel like, but he does know he wants to kiss them, and that Artoirel wants to kiss him too. 

It’s just never been this direct! Nika blames the whiskey, the open shirt, those delicious looking collarbones, Minfilia’s memory, Ishgard itself. He knows what it feels like - Estinien’s hands on his skin are a refreshed memory - but this is Artoirel; his Artoirel, the way Minfilia was never his, his to spend time with, his to kiss, his to enjoy, his to listen to him laugh. His to make Nika’s heart beat and warm up faster than any fire would. 

“I suppose she has had enough of those options by that point,” Artoirel shrugs, but his cheeks are still red, his hair’s in disarray, his lips are slightly parted, thin and pink, and those fucking collarbones are still taunting Nika like it’s their one job. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Nika replies, as if that makes any sense to the prior conversation. “And I want to kiss you so, so badly.” 

“I would very much like to kiss you too,” Artoirel replies, holding onto the edges of his self-control. Nika can feel his fingers ghost over the skin of his jaw and takes a deep breath not to groan from the way it sends sparks down his spine. The knowledge Artoirel wants him just as badly, right now, makes his belly tighten. “May I?” 

“Yes,” Nika breathes and Artoirel’s facing him, tall, relaxed, hair a dark halo around his head. His eyes are impossibly wide, impossibly big, and Nika rises on his tip toes and wraps himself around Artoirel’s body, like he was made to be here. Maybe he was. Maybe he was made to share breath with Artoirel de Fortemps for torturously long moments before their lips meet, maybe he was made to bury his fingers in his hair and pull him down on the couch. His body soars and he’s shaking with need and his heart beats wildly in his chest. 

And when their tongues touch, Nika claws at Artoirel’s back. I’m going to fuck this man tonight, he thinks, and it feels brash and crude but he can’t help himself. Artoirel moans into the kiss, and it only serves to make Nika’s skin even tighter. 

“I wanna fuck you,” Nika says between kisses, pulls on Artoirel’s hair. “Stop me if you need to, fuck, Artoirel, I want to bite your chest, and I want to make you feel good, I want–” 

“Yes,” Artoirel breathes out. His body’s shaking beneath Nika’s touch and Nika peppers his face with small kisses. “I want that too–” 

“Glad we agree,” Nika replies and steals the rest of his sentence in a deep kiss. Artoirel’s hand wraps around Nika’s waist but Nika uses the leverage to drag him beneath him and settle on his hips. From this angle, he looks even better. A prim and proper lord, commander of men, count de Fortemps, beneath him, already hard, messy from kisses, and Nika can’t help but groan. It’s not like he’s any better himself. He then leans down and kisses him softly, the way he never got to kiss Minfilia. 

But she isn’t here, is she? It’s just him and Artoirel, alive, in the flesh. And it’s an aching flesh, and Nika wants to kiss it senseless, and he wants to keep him close, keep him warm, safe, wants to make him happy and make him laugh. 

“Artoirel,” Nika says, because he can’t say anything else. And Artoirel kisses him back, presses his hands against Nika’s back, and somehow, he feels like he got the message just fine. 

Just like that, the rest of the world falls away.

[snotsloth]

14 Embraces from behind where the other person nuzzles their nose into your neck

I had fun with this prompt! Thank you for the excuse to write Orion/Aymeric fluff. Kinda want to make this a longer piece, but for now it's just the two of them mostly talking the night before the battle of Ala Mhigo.

...

Orion slid his fingers under the rims of his round spectacles to rub the haze from his fatigued eyes. Leaning against a table covered in various potions, poultices, and balms, he tried to bring the labels into focus. Did that one say Hi-Ether or Hi-Elixir? He picked up the flask, bringing it almost to the tip of his nose. Ether. Hi-Ether. He set it back down and made a note on the checklist laid on the table before him.

He was just about to reach for another flask when two long arms clad in black leather and ornate gold bracers wrapped around his narrow waist. He felt soft lips press against the back of his neck, right on the seam between obsidian scales and red skin. Tense shoulders immediately sagged and Orion leaned back into Aymeric's embrace. Aymeric hummed, squeezing Orion tighter and burying his nose in short umber hair, thick as velvet.

"How did I know I would find you here?" Aymeric muttered against the back of Orion's head.

Orion closed his eyes, blocking out as much of the bustling camp as he could, and focused on the grounding touch of the lover he had missed for months. Azema, allow me this indulgence, he thought to himself.

The two pressed against one another in silence, letting everything else slip into a muffled hum of camp life.

"Kendra?" Orion finally asked, wondering after their other mutual lover.

Orion could feel Aymeric's smile pressed to the skin just behind his horn when he answered, "Last I saw, she was fast asleep in a pile of miqo'te under one of the M Tribe's big communal sleeping pavilions. I think she was droo9ling on M'naago's shoulder.

Orion chuffed a soft laugh. At least one of them was getting proper rest before the trials of the morrow.

"So..." Aymeric pressed his hands against Orion's hips to turn him away from the inventory table and towards himself. "I thought it only appropriate to let her continue to rest and come after you myself."

Orion looked down at Aymeric's upturned face. Long, black lashes drooped over bright blue eyes. His flawless porcelain skin glowed in the indirect light of camp torches. Unable to resist, Orion reached up to caress the soft skin of Aymeric's cheek with his thumb. Aymeric leaned into the touch and Orion cupped the side of his face with a broad palm.

"So, can I tempt you back to my very plush Commander's tent, or will I have to send an entire platoon after you to force you to rest?"

"Hmmm..." Orion mused. He fiddled with a silky black curl that had fallen over Aymeric's brow. "These supplies really do need to be cataloged and distributed to the field teams before we deploy in the morning, and- "

"And I'm sure there is a very eager young non-combatant somewhere in this camp who can get that taken care of while those who will be on the front line, yourself included, get a full night's rest." With a gentle but firm grip, Aymeric began to pull Orion away from the lines of bottles.

"But Aymeric, I can't-" Orion stammered.

"You can't effectively fulfill your role tomorrow if you don't get a full night's rest tonight. You know one of the greatest healers of our generation once told me, 'You can't keep your people alive if you're dead on the floor. A healer's first job is to stay alive and their second job is to take care of their own body."

Orion groaned and leaned back into Aymeric's space to steal a kiss. "How dare you use my own words against me? You absolute politician."

"I would have less cause to do so if you took your own advice more often," Aymeric retorted, smirking triumphantly.

"Fine," Orion groused, kissing Aymeric again. "Fine." One more kiss. "Sargent!"

Orion waved over a young hyur in a Storm medic's uniform. Turning to face him, Orion handed over his notepad and pen. "I am under orders from the Lord Speaker to relinquish my current task and get some rest before we deploy. Would you see to it that someone finishes this inventory check and distributes these supplies to all the field medic team's deploying tomorrow?"

"Yes sir," the young man saluted enthusiastically, a little star struck by the seven foot Warrior of Light and the Lord Speaker of the Ishgardian Senate. "Rest well, sir."

"Thank you, Sargent. Dismissed," Orion turned to leave, catching Aymeric's arm in his own. "Is it just me, or do they look younger every year?" he muttered under his breath.

"Just wait until you visit Ishgard next and meet Lucia's latest class of cadets. I swear half of them haven't hit their final growth spurt. They all look like newborn chocobo chicks, all knobby knees and oversized feet."

Aymeric led Orion through the dusty lanes of the Alliance camp. With the sun having set less than an hour ago, things were still lively. Soldiers gathered at bonfires, eating rations. Nightt patrols rolled out towards the edges of camp. An entire legion of support staff swarmed the supply trains, ensuring all was made ready for the morning. The soft chanting of hymns rose from the Ishgardian tents. Orion breathed deep of the quickly cooling night air.

"Thank you, Aymeric, for looking out for me," Orion said after a moment of companionable silence between them. "I still get caught up in my own head on nights like this. I don't know if I will ever grow accustomed to military life. I just find my mind swirling with a maelstrom of what-ifs, and probabilities, and contingencies, and expected casualty numbers."

Aymeric squeezed Orion's arm, comfortingly.

"I think every military leader indulges in some amount of anxiety on the eve of battle, or at least every good one that I have known. It should never be easy, knowing that on the morrow you will send thousands of good people to their deaths. That should weigh on a commander's conscience, no matter the righteousness of the their cause. But one way to ensure you get as many of them out alive as you can is to make sure that you are rested, clear-headed and ready for battle yourself.

Orion nodded silently, eyes cast down to his boots as they continued to make their way down a track packed smooth by thousands of feed and cartwheels over the course of recent days.

"Orion, darling," Aymeric stopped and turned to look him in the eye. Orion also turned and looked up, face still tense with anxiety. "We are as prepared as we can be. Tomorrow you will have the might of five nations and the Ala Mhigan resistance at your back. Everyone who is here believes our common cause is just and worth sacrificing for. The weight of the star is not pressing against your shoulder's alone. We will free Ala Mhigo, all of us together. This is not your fight alone."

"You're right," Orion said, nodding. "Of course you're right. Thank you, love, for getting me out of my own myopic spirals, and for coming to fetch me."

"I just wish I could be there to do so more often," Aymeric said, pulling Orion close and wrapping his arms around his torso, holding him tight. "Now, enough musings. Let's get what rest we can. Will you stay with me tonight? I, for one, will sleep better with you beside me."

"The only thing better would be if we could get Kendra to join us. But I don't dare risk the wrath of twenty sleepy miqo'te women." "Agreed," Aymeric laughed. "We don't dare."

[catsidhesilvie]

Cat-Trapped

FMiqoWol/Themis fluff, 6.2 spoilers. I wrote this while trapped under a cat because of course I did.

Wyra let out a heavy sigh as she sunk to the ground. Her back was pressed against a massive tree, the sun-soaked bark warming her skin pleasantly through the thin fabric of her robe.

While she generally preferred clothing that was less bulky in appearance, she had to admit that the ancients had found a way to make their staple fashion items comfortable. The robes, pants, and shoes seemed to be made of the highest-quality leather she had ever seen, resistant to staining and tough enough to prevent tearing – and yet they were somehow still lightweight and breathable. 

As her thoughts began to meander, she mused how strange it was that, sitting under a blue-leafed tree on a floating island thousands of years in the past, it would be the magicks of the ancients’ clothing she found herself pondering. If she was honest to herself, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to think about the other things too hard. Having too much time to ponder the marvels of Elpis was likely to either leave her sad at the place's future destruction, or otherwise with a headache from trying to understand creation magicks beyond her ken.

Elpis itself was a wonder. While the facility had zones which put creations to the test in arid or frozen environments, Wyra had yet to see anything beyond beautiful, temperate weather in the greater sections. It was always akin to the nicest day of spring, with a cool breeze that wasn't too cold but also didn't allow those working there to overheat. Despite days spent fighting off various beastly creations and chasing around a bird girl who was a master of hide and seek, Wyra had never felt as though she needed to take a breather just to cool down. 

That said, mental exhaustion as well as physical aches were enough to make her want to take the opportunity at hand to rest for a moment.

Wyra had come to Elpis this time to check in on Themis and Erichthonios to see how work towards restoring Pandaemonium had progressed, as well as to see if she could learn anything more about the beasts which awaited them in lower levels.

Pandemonium was… less pleasant than Elpis, if still a magical marvel. The air had been stagnant there, as though it, too, were fixed in stasis, alongside its many imprisoned creations. The temperature was generally uncomfortable, ranging from cold and damp when she fought the hippokampos to miserably hot when she faced the phoinix. Things had improved slightly on the first layer after her defeat of Hesperos, but the knowledge that the other levels were in equal disarray made her dread their inevitable descent. Wyra knew getting to the root of the issue was necessary to protect the ancient and future star, but it didn’t mean she had to enjoy fulfilling her duty every time.

Before checking in with Themis and Erichthonios in Pandaemonium itself, she had decided to journey to the buildings that the researchers lived and worked out of to see if she could locate any material about Pandaemonium herself. Luck was on her side, it seemed, as she shortly located someone who said that she believed she had some logs on the subject. Unfortunately, though, the researcher was in the middle of something or another involving a stack of paperwork which didn’t require the help of a “familiar,” as most people assumed Wyra was. She didn’t blame them, as her miqo’te features and comparatively thin aether were inconvenient to hide in a world where the mandatory dress code didn’t allow for hats and the individuals she worked with were particularly gifted in recognizing aetheric density. It was actually rather fortuitous that things aligned in a way that Wyra could claim to be Azem’s familiar – Azem was apparently eccentric enough that this explanation was plenty to buy Wyra leeway to make social faux pas in a world so different from hers in the future.

In this case, though, her deception had left her lowest on the researcher’s list of priorities. The woman had waved her off, telling her to return in an hour or so. 

With no one else around looking like they needed help, for once, Wyra decided to summon her mount to carry her to one of the smaller floating islands nearby so that she could escape the other researchers’ curious gazes for a time.

She was used to being stared at – while being a miqo’te wasn’t hugely unusual in the modern era, she had done enough to become fairly famous in the news and tabloids, and she had a fairly distinctive style of dress that lent itself to being recognized. While most people tended to give her space if they recognized her as the Warrior of Light, she still struggled to deal with the constant feeling of being watched when in a crowd. Being stared at by researchers was quite worse, particularly researchers from an extinct world thousands of years in the past. She didn’t think they would raise a hand to the familiar of a member of their precious Convocation, but she could do without the constant stream of questions about how her aether looked about to fade away. She also wasn’t partial to the patronizing tone many took when speaking to her, though it was better than the demanding voice others used.

Ultimately, Wyra found herself sitting in the wildflowers under the blue tree, staring sleepily into the glittering sky. Other floating islands were scattered amongst the idyllic cloudscape, but they were distant enough she was certain that she was safely out of view of anyone else. With a last glance about, Wyra muffled a yawn with the back of her hand and then pulled her robe’s hood over her eyes. The thin fabric somehow blocked out light entirely, and she closed her eyes appreciatively.

Just for a few minutes. Then I’ll go back and check on those documents, then head down to see Themis and Erich.

Wyra’s eyes felt as though they’d been closed for just seconds before she was startled awake by the feeling of someone plopping down next to her.

“When I told you to take your time to rest for a while before returning to us, I did expect you to do it indoors… not that there is anything wrong with doing it here, I guess.” 

Wyra bolted upright in an instant, scrambling to push her hood from her eyes.

Themis sat beside her with his back against the same tree, eyebrow raised and a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth. 

"I think this island is being used exclusively to research some new flower concepts, so it is about as safe a place for a midday nap as any."

Wyra looked away sheepishly, her cheeks tinged red. “I was… designed to be crepuscular,” she explained, borrowing a term she had heard used by the scholars in Labyrinthos.

Perhaps it was due to her nature as the child of a Moon Keeper mother and Sun Seeker father, but she always tended to find herself most awake at dusk and dawn and then struggling to focus at midday and midnight. Her eyes, too, struggled with pure darkness or harsh light. With most other people she worked with keeping a day schedule, Wyra tended to try to do most of her work early in the morning and then after a quick midday nap. Most of the scions had noticed, and had long since stopped inviting her to lunch, which she appreciated. Amongst world-ending events like those of the present, though, she had found herself working through her tiredness more often than not.

It seemed like today she would have to, as well.

Themis tilted his head thoughtfully. “You are a fascinating falling star, indeed.” He smiled at the quirk in Wyra’s mouth before motioning to the book sitting to his side.

“Actually, it seems like we had the same idea. I went to speak to some of the researchers to see if I could find more about what other creatures might exist in Pandaemonium, only for one woman to say a violet-haired feline familiar had requested this but a bell earlier and not yet come to claim it.” 

“Ugh, I must have actually fallen asleep, then…” Wyra buried her face in her hands, her tail wrapping around her tensely. While she could usually wake up quickly from her naps on her own, her pure exhaustion coupled with the comfortable temperature and darkness of the robe’s hood must have prevented her from sensing the change in time. Now she could clearly see that the sun had shifted its position above by at least a half-hour, and she had little hope she would have awoken anytime soon had Themis not disturbed her.

Themis chuckled quietly and put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “Fear not, my friend. She had only just finished the assignment that she had been working on when I arrived.” The tension in Wyra’s shoulders and tail eased slightly as he continued. “And in any case, it is good that you are actually resting. If what I skimmed in this thus far is any indication, you shall need to be at your fighting best to defeat what awaits us.” 

Wyra glanced and saw that his teasing smile had turned to a gentle frown. She sat up straight again, stretching her spine and wincing before sighing.

She really hadn’t spent much time resting, in all actuality. Shortly after their last adventures in Elpis, she ended up traveling to the Void, meeting – and fighting – several members of the Twelve, and had spent some time training with her new friend Zero to improve her melee combat skills. Any free moment she had lately, she spent helping people in Thavnair or Garlemald, studying with Y’shtola, or helping Krile and G’raha do further research on the Twelve. She had most recently returned to Old Sharlayan after visiting Alphinaud and Alisaie, only to be immediately flagged down by Claudien’s assistant researchers of the Aetherial Sea. They had made some progress with the memory stone, apparently, but nothing worth showing her. Still, she thought it would be a good time to check in on the past, since there was nothing immediately requiring her attention elsewhere for the moment.

“Well, I’m glad that I didn’t leave her waiting too long, in any case.” Wyra smiled at Themis, trying to shake off her residual embarrassment at being caught asleep. “And I guess I am glad it was you who found me here as opposed to a frightening creation.” She frowned. “How did you know where to find me?” 

Themis raised an eyebrow slightly. “By sensing your aether, of course. I may not be as skilled as the honorable Emet-Selch with soul sight, but I do recognize Azem’s aether well enough. I sensed that I would find her or you here, and either would be a pleasant surprise.” 

Wyra fought to keep her ears from lowering at the mention of Azem. While the reason she was so similar to Azem was obvious to her, it was still uncomfortable to be reminded that something so uniquely hers as an aetheric signature belonged to someone else first. It also reminded her that Themis, too, likely believed that she was just Azem’s familiar – a creation to be judged, or one to be told to do the work none of the ancients wanted to do. Not that she didn’t always do the latter, regardless. It made her feel similar to how she had felt when talking to the Ascians – belittled, patronized, dehumanized, viewed as lesser. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her when she knew that Themis was the same man as the Elidibus of her future. Still, he and Erichthonios had been some of the only ancients to treat her as though she were a real person, so it was an annoying reminder that they probably didn’t believe it.

Themis’s expression was unreadable as he turned back to the book he had brought. 

“I will admit, I had hoped you would return soon. I was beginning to worry that Erichthonios and I would need to proceed alone once we finally unraveled the wards on the gate to Abyssos.” His warm smile had returned, and Wyra tried to shrug off her internal turmoil. 

“Do forgive my extended absence, other duties have kept me away. Full glad am I that it doesn’t seem I missed anything of grave importance,” she said, eyeing the book herself. It was a handwritten journal, and the page Themis had opened to had an illustration of the hippokampos she had already fought. She grimaced. That had most certainly not been her favorite fight. She could still bring to mind the nauseating smell of the filthy water that had been continually sprayed and splashed onto her before the creature was defeated.

Seeing her interest, Themis shifted himself closer, moving the journal to rest between them on his thigh. “I suppose you had sought this reading material before I did. It is only fair that I share.” 

Still somewhat dazed by his initial proximity when she awoke, Wyra’s cheeks flushed slightly. Her tail rested on the grass between them, and she resisted the urge to tighten it against her own body to avoid touching his leg. 

Would that I ever knew I would be within arm’s reach of Elidibus himself under friendly circumstances. 

 Wyra wasn’t particularly abhorrent to the idea of being in close proximity with others, regularly sitting this close to or even hugging the other scions after they became close friends. Themis, though, was still essentially a stranger – despite whatever the feeling in her stomach said. If they really had only known each other through shared duty for a few months, like her head argued, she had no reason to feel so comfortable around him. She had grown to trust him organically to a degree – clearly her prior incarnation had been especially close to him, and Azem’s friends in the time of Elpis had so far not led her wrong. In fact, her own track record was less pristine, if you considered her fondness toward Meteion and Hermes. If Themis had wanted to do her harm, there had been plenty of opportunity while they fought their way through Asphodelos. The way he had talked to Erichthonios when the warder had been freed from his frenzy also demonstrated his friendliness and genuine dedication to the duty of protecting the star. Not that she had ever doubted the latter – the future Elidibus was nothing if not loyal to his perceived duty. It was fortunate indeed that they found themselves on the same side of that duty this time.

Unaware of her internal musings, Themis looked to her expectantly, lifting the edge of the page.

Wyra blinked, then nodded. She hadn’t read a word of it, but was sure that whatever he had would be enough to help them if there was anything of value. Judging by his expression, there wasn’t anything overly revealing on page one.

Themis turned to the next page, and Wyra bit her lip apprehensively. She really couldn’t read the researcher’s excited scrawl from that angle. Despite napping for longer than she had intended, her eyes were still dry and her mind slightly fogged. Curse this beautiful place. She breathed out quietly and blinked a few more times, only improving things slightly. It didn’t help that the side her companion had joined her from was the same side as her damaged eye. While her vision had improved enough over the years that she could once again wield a bow with practiced accuracy, it did struggle when she was already strained and at a weird angle.

Pushing the awkwardness from her mind, she broke the silence.

“I have to readjust, sorry…” Themis nodded confusedly and leaned away with his book, watching as Wyra leaned forward, shifting her tail behind her to rest alongside her other leg. A hint of understanding and mild amusement crossed his face as she settled back down a few inches closer and busied herself by smoothing her tail. He placidly shifted himself to make up the remaining few inches of distance, lowering the book back down to their laps once their hips and shoulders were touching. 

Wyra’s face felt like it was on fire, but it was admittedly much easier to read the inelegant handwriting within the journal this way. Fortunately, it seemed that Themis was busy actually reading, or else graciously didn’t choose that opportunity to tease her. 

Shifting her focus to said journal, Wyra skimmed quickly to ensure that he wasn’t left waiting. The journal was clearly written by a researcher of high authority in Elpis who oversaw water-based creations such as the hippokampos. This particular entry discussed the decision they had made to send the beast to Pandaemonium after it had flooded an entire research facility. It went on to discuss the process required to have a creation interred within Pandaemonium, which seemed to amount to unending stacks of paperwork.

As Themis flipped through the pages at an easy pace, Wyra found her eyes blinking slower than usual; more than once, she hadn’t actually absorbed anything from the second half of the page before her companion lifted the corner and paused quizzically. The warmth she could feel from his arm and leg against hers, even through their robes, had shifted from unnerving to comforting, and the sleepiness that had caused her to nod off before had returned. I really must have overdone it, lately, she mused.

A low half-chuckle escaped Themis’s breath, and she distantly wondered if what she was supposed to be reading had been humorous. She couldn’t really remember the latest section.

“You know, this is how Azem and I spent many an evening when she joined the convocation. We were both quite young at the time, and I believe Mistress Venat surprised her when she decided to vacate the seat of Azem.”

Wyra’s ears perked up a bit, and she tilted her head to peer at Themis’s expression. He was still staring at the book, and turned the page. She guiltily noted that he didn’t bother to ask her if she had finished it yet this time. She looked at the next page, seeing the illustration of a monstrous beast with shark-like teeth and a serrated fin that the author had noted as “knife-like.” 

“Azem spent day and night for weeks after Venat’s announcement, studying the Convocation’s guidelines and rules, to ensure that she knew them forwards and backwards. Not that she follows them strictly, mind you,” he chuckled again. “No, when prompted, she says that she learned them so that she could memorize the loopholes, or at least would know what to expect when she broke them.” He smiled fondly at the page. “And that, she does, without hesitation or remorse. Arguably, things often turn out better that way in most situations. She has quite the refreshing perspective.”

Wyra mustered an affirmative “hmm” as Themis turned another page. The words were scrawled almost illegibly as the author was describing yet another iteration of monster-shark with great excitement. Her companion’s low voice and warmth were enough to cause her mind to drift further.

“We both have duties that keep us apart the majority of the time, but she is always sure to send me letters of her adventures, and I keep her up-to-date with the decisions made in the meetings she misses.” 

He paused thoughtfully, glancing at the miqo’te girl who was now leaning more of her weight against his shoulder than before. His eyes narrowed mirthfully as he saw her eyes half-lidded and her ears drooping backwards. Her tail, which had been rigid against her side after she repositioned, curled across her lap like a blanket. Long strands of violet hair fell over her shoulders messily, having been disturbed from their usual waves by the hood she had worn when he first found her. The gentle breeze had caused some to blow across her cheek and his shoulder, but she didn’t seem to care, or maybe she wasn’t aware. He couldn’t help but notice that it was not only violet in color, but also smelled lightly of the flower. 

“Azem does always say that knowing when to rest is a great boon, for one who travels and relies upon her own body for so much. Working oneself to exhaustion is not like to win more fights cleanly than if one took an extra few bells before jumping into duty.”

Wyra didn’t respond, but her head slumped forward slightly. Asleep again. 

Themis laughed quietly and brushed the hair that had fallen into her face back lightly, his finger touching the scar across her cheek. Where had she earned it, he wondered, and why had it healed with such a mark, when she was so skilled with magic? Clearly she had faced many a foe before coming to Elpis, but she had offered no story other than the bold lie that she was Azem’s familiar. Knowing that to be false instantly thanks to a prior discussion with Azem herself, Themis still avoided asking for fear that Wyra would recoil. Azem had been entertained endlessly by the stories of her “familiar” running about in Elpis with Hythlodaeus, Emet-Selch, and Venat, and made no move to correct anyone. If she claims to be mine and is helpful, then whyever would I mind? She had responded when Themis thought to ask. All the better that she caused any annoyance to Emet.

In his limited time with Wyra thus far, he couldn’t help but agree. While Wyra was quite different than Azem in some ways – she was quieter and less confident, for one, and had a tail, for another – it was clear they must be related. Maybe she’s my great-great grandchild!! Azem had been particularly tickled by that idea, though Themis had doubts. Azem having children was something Themis placed particularly low on his list of predictions for the future. He couldn’t imagine her slowing down long enough to raise one, though he had been wrong about her capabilities in the past. He had begun to wonder who the father would be before cutting his line of thought abruptly.

No, Themis thought, it was far more likely that Wyra was a reincarnation of Azem, in some shape. Now that he was close enough to look at her clearly, his soul sight made it obvious that, despite lacking a fair portion of it, Wyra’s intrinsic aether was purely Azem’s, with no one else’s tinging the color to suggest Wyra was her traditional descendant.

What would change the world so severely that his dear friend would be reborn with furry ears, he wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

He also hadn’t the faintest idea why she would appear then in Elpis, though she had yielded the fact that she was aware of Pandaemonium and had a memory crystal warning of danger surrounding the place. Perhaps she, too, held a role that led her to travel and solve problems for others. Why should this travel be restricted to space and not time?

Wyra sighed in her sleep, leaning further onto him so that his arm was effectively pinned. Holding his own breath, Themis pulled his shoulder back slightly, unsurprised when the girl’s weight shifted and she slumped forward harder at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle. Putting the journal to the side, he braced his free hand against her shoulder gently as he pulled his trapped arm fully free. 

“Mhhm…” she mumbled, rolling slightly on her hip towards him. Her tail twitched slightly. Frozen momentarily, he then gently lowered the arm holding her shoulders up, and she responded by curling up with her head in his lap. Her tail promptly curled across her and his legs. 

Not what he had intended, but perhaps not the worst thing that could happen, he mused. She quieted in her sleep again, clearly needing the rest, and the only sound left was of her slow breathing and that of the wind through the azure branches above.

Themis smiled. For how long had he wished to do something like this with Azem again? To spend time alone, and relax.

Their duties would never allow it, of course; he was as committed to his as she, hers, and hers required her to travel the star for months at a time while his required him to stay in Amaurot almost always, present circumstances aside. She often would reappear in the city for one day, invite him to help her on an adventure, and they would spend the time inseparable. Then, she would be gone the next day. Her melodious voice would be traded for a scribbly script on letters delivered by one of her flying creations.

He didn’t mind this format of relationship, though he would have liked to go with her more often, if he had the option. Their care for one another was unspoken, but he trusted in it fully. He did find himself alone far more nights than he spent with her, but it gave him more time to focus on his duties as Elidibus and helped him to try to think impartially when Azem herself drew the Convocation's ire. Still, on some of those nights, he found himself daydreaming of how things would be when they both had completed their callings, and could be free from obligation. He fantasized of the possibility of them both returning to the star together, someday in the infinitesimally distant future, so that they could rest in the underworld together before beginning a new adventure in the next life.

Such youthful, romantic fantasies were not for the Emissary at present, though; unbeholden to anyone regarding personal matters, Azem never bothered to deny anyone who assumed they were a couple, but neither did she claim him as more than her dearest friend, nor ask that he not court another. In fact, she had nearly encouraged it herself through her letters to him, poorly illustrating disgustingly cute or even teasingly obscene scenes of him with other people she had befriended through her travels. He was bemused by these letters, of course; he had perhaps less free time than she due to his role on the Convocation, and never yet had interest in another. He was committed to his duty over all else. He did wonder at times, though, if she acted so because she was equally duty-bound, if she had foreseen him with another, or if it was that she truly did value freedom over any kind of binding.

He hesitated a moment before brushing his fingers gently across Wyra’s forehead and ear, moving another loose strand of hair that the wind had dislodged. He reveled in the fact that he had at least been able to quench the curiosity he harbored concerning the softness of her fur. 

She sighed lightly at his touch and nuzzled closer, her fingers loosely gripping the fabric of his robe. His hand stroked her hair more confidently this time, and he had to suppress a laugh when he felt a gentle vibration from her weight on his lap. Purring.

Wyra may indeed be somehow related to Azem, he thought, but he doubted that he would ever see the latter bind him in such a way as to make him feel guilty at the very thought of moving. 

Themis’s eyes widened suddenly as a thought crossed his mind. Maybe that is why she would incarnate as a cat…

“What a strange guiding star you are,” he whispered, to no reaction. His left hand continued to pet her as he grabbed the journal up again with his right. “Well, then, I guess this is what we shall do until I glean from the book whatever it may have to offer.”

__

Wyra’s consciousness returned slowly as the sun began to set. The warm, golden light shone under the tree’s branches onto her face, causing her to stir, and she moved an arm to cover her eyes. Her tail stretched behind her as she tensed her spine, her fingers gripping the fabric in her hands tighter as the stretch reached all the way up to her ears. 

“Ah, good evening, my friend…”

Wyra’s body flew backwards with enough force that it startled the book out of Themis’s hand. His other hand was still in the air above where it had rested on her head. His robe was wrinkled where her fingers had gripped it, though she was certain the marks would disappear instantly once he stood. 

Her face turned as red as a tomato before she ducked it apologetically, and her bushy tail lashed behind her.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!!” Her carefully glamoured fingernails dug desperately into the dirt as she bowed forward on her knees. “That was horrendously rude of me and I promise it will never happen again!!”

Themis smiled diplomatically and shook his head. “Worry not, my friend. I believe you may have already been asleep at that point, but I did tell you that you should get some rest before we descend. I cannot say I expected to be your pillow, but it was not a negative experience.” 

Wyra’s blush continued to burn, but she rose back up to her knees and then sat back, her arms placed rigidly in her lap. She struggled with a response before settling on one she thought would be most appropriate. 

“Ah, well, thank you, then. I do feel quite a lot better…”

She cleared her throat nervously before motioning to the book, which was still where it had landed when Wyra startled awake. “As you might imagine, I think I missed… all of… the journal,” she grimaced, the fading pink of her blush intensifying again momentarily. “Was there aught of value within?” 

Themis frowned for a moment before nodding. “Ah, yes, but only in how some of the spells to capture them were cast. It should improve my rate of success in interring those creations you run into going forward. It was certainly worth the time it took to read it, and I only just finished before you woke up,” he lied cheerfully.

In my house, we have a rule that if anyone asks you to do something, but there is a cat on your lap, you are allowed to claim "cat exemption" and be free from whatever is asked.

Being a kitty fosterer, we get away with not doing a lot ahaha

[irikotsuwamono]

Wolchefant Week 2023 - Day 5: Other Papa

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48381874

Rated: General

Summary: "One winter day, the Warrior of Light recounts her past love and current loves with her child over making a pot of hot chocolate."

Word Count: 2.7k

[grahasblackmage]

Starlight Celebration

Pairing: G'raha Tia x Alyss Leonhart

Summary: G'raha is picking up a gift for Alyss and is trying to make it back home in time to celebrate Starlight with his Warrior.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope that you all have a lovely holiday! I wanted to do something short and sweet with these two dorks <3

G'raha was getting antsy while sitting in his chair, waiting for Tataru to finish up a gift he was going to give to Alyss. He was late getting home to her since they were going to have their own small Starlight celebration tonight. He also had to go back to Sharlayan in a few days so he hated being away from her for too long. Bouncing his leg a little, he looked towards the door where Tataru usually conducted her business. Alyss wasn't kidding when she said Tataru would take forever to finish an item of clothing. He looked down at his tea cup then at the pot, knowing that he drained the whole pot almost a half an hour ago.

His ears then perked up when he heard the door to Tataru's office open up. The bookkeeping Lalafell walked over to him and presented him with a flat box wrapped in dark purple wrapping paper and her brightest smile, "Here you are, G'raha! I hope that Alyss likes it."

G'raha then took the box with relief, "Thank you so much, Tataru. She will love it."

"Go on then! I've kept you long enough!" Tataru chirped, "Happy Starlight, G'raha."

"Happy Starlight, Tataru," G'raha replied with a smile as he ran towards the door to go home.

)~~*~~(

G'raha made his way back to the Mist as fast as he could and just hoped that he hadn't kept Alyss too long. Approaching the front door, he made sure he looked presentable then hid the present behind his back. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to their shared home to feel the warmth from the fire and the smell of something cooking in the kitchen. He closed the door behind him then saw Alyss curled up in the large chair next to the tree, asleep with a book in her lap. He smiled softly at her but felt his heart drop slightly; she had been waiting for him. G'raha walked over to Alyss to kneel beside her then placed a hand on her cheek. 

Alyss began to stir from his touch and groaned lightly. Her citrine eyes fluttered open to see G'raha in front her making her smile, "Raha, you're home."

"I'm sorry I took so long, my Warrior," he replied while placing a kiss on her forehead, "I was waiting on your present to be finished."

"That's all right. I'm just so happy you are home," Alyss said with a small yawn and closed her book before stroking some of his hair away from his face, "I wasn't waiting too long and dinner should be ready in a half an hour."

"I'm glad," G'raha sighed in relief. He then took the present from behind his back to set it on her lap, "Happy Starlight, Alyss."

Alyss looked at the box then smiled at him, "You're so sweet." Alyss opened up the present and carefully pulled back the tissue paper only to gasp at what she saw. "Oh, Raha..."

Alyss pulled a scarf that looked exactly like G'raha's out of the box, "I know how much you like to wear my scarf whenever I am away and instead of taking mine all the time, you can have your own."

Alyss immediately wrapped the scarf around her neck then cupped G'raha's face in her hands, gazing at him softly, "It's perfect... thank you."

G'raha melted when Alyss pressed her lips against his. He was happy he was home with the love of his life and she loved the present he had given her. He hated leaving her when he had to go to Sharlayan but hopefully with the scarf, a part of him will stay with her. Alyss pulled back to gaze into his crimson eyes, "I love you so much... Happy Starlight, my love."

G'raha then took her into his arms, brushing his lips against hers, "Happy Starlight, my Warrior. I love you more than anything."

[voidedleylines]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 26: Zip

In which wedding bells are rung.

Rating: G || No CWs apply || Post-Endwalker setting || Gosestu Daito & Warrior of Light // Warrior of Light/Hien Rijin

Enjoy!!

She stands there in their shared bedroom and looks at herself over and over in the mirror.

Her feet feel like heavy stone and her legs refuse to do any sort of moving. There’s backflips in her stomach and she closes her eyes to try and keep some sort of calm. The yellow necklace on her chest weighs heavy and she lifts a hand to mess with it.

A gentle knock makes her jump as she looks to see Gosestu standing there. There’s a playful but kind look on his face.

Freyalin smiles at him and he takes that as an invitation to enter. His presence does do much to soothe her and it’s evident in how her shoulders relax.

He gives a low laugh, “I was much the same on my wedding day. Though much, much sweatier,” he says with a wink.

That makes her snort as she again looks at herself over and over. As if finally remembering the reason she’s stood in the mirror in the first place she gasps, “Oh could you…could you zip me up,” she asks. The top of her dress still hangs open and her arms were too stiff to be able to do it herself.

Her dress was nothing fancy. It was a simple red slip dress. Her hair done in a side braid with flowers from Namai twisted into it. She hardly recognized herself if she was honest.

“Of course,” he says. He gently makes his way behind her and carefully takes the zipper and pulls up. As a father would, he moves her hair out of the way once he reaches the top.

That causes a small lump to form in her throat. She’s come to terms with her upbringing by now, but some days it hits harder than she’d like. One of those days being this one.

As if sensing her spiral Gosetsu places a hand on her shoulder and gives a squeeze, “Kaien and Mina would have loved you, you know.”

She looks at him wide eyed in the mirror and tries hard to not cry. There was no way to know if that was the truth or a sweet lie said in a moment to reassure, but she didn’t care.

She didn’t trust her words so instead she gives a nod and a thankful smile.

He reciprocates and gives her shoulder another squeeze. “Now, I believe it’s time. Your brother is waiting nearby Namai.”

Freyalin gives one last deep sigh as she steadies herself and together the two of them go on their way.

She stands with Horskfyr in the corner of Plum Spring while everyone waits. They share a long hug and when they break away he offers her his arm.

As she walks she finally glances a look at Hien and is hit with any and all emotion. She notes with small amusement how his nerves seem to match her own.

She stands there across from him now and in the blink of an eye they are married. All the nerves melt away as she holds his face in the quiet of their bed later that evening.

[cassie-englehardt]

Smoll introduction:

Hi! I am Vee and this is Cassie's tumblr page~

Here I will post a lot of lore related things as well as cute wolship piccies!

I have 4 main ships for her:

Ardbert, Estinien, Themis and Varshahn!

I will most likely also post the occassional azem ship, Cassie's azem Sol is shipped with Hermes and I really want to post them more often.

I really want this to become a space where I can make more stuff that would be harder to post in twitter (due to space limits)

I hope you will enjoy the angst, fluff and lore posts :D

[nocturnalsectt]

👋 Hello!! I post gpose comics, screenshots, lore of my WoL, and fluff of my WoLship.

Reblog if your an FFXIV blog!

Help the lost Twitter spirits find us all.

[missazurerose]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 7

Morsel

Haurchefant nearly lost his grip on Aymeric’s shirt as his mother entered the kitchen. The only thing more legendary than his mother’s heroism was her inability to cook. He looked up to his father for help, his green and blue eyes filled with fear. “Well, that sounds like a good idea to me. Your mother could make you a quick parsnip salad to tie you over until dinner.”

“Well…I…I think I hear little Byrdie calling me. I should see if she needs help with her weaving.” He dashed off to pretend to find his sister Moenbyrda. 

[johnnylandslide]

am trying to figure out how to make a gpose of just johnny looking cool so that this blog is only like 60% tooth-rotting wolship fluff instead of the current 90%

[cattnappin]

blessing the dash with wolship fluff 💕💜🧡

[missazurerose]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 6

Halcyon

It really had been that long. Gray was just starting to appear at Aymeric’s temples. A few wrinkles were becoming noticeable around Riona’s eyes. Their children were becoming adults faster than they could believe. And it was wonderful. The peace they had risked their lives for was more fulfilling than either of them could have ever imagined.

[cassie-englehardt]

aaah I havent been active on here in a while, tbh working with different socials is really tiring on top of work etc

I also have been mainly focused on my lewd twitter account ngl

but I am back making cute wolship stuff on top of everything else, so I hope I can post some more in depth lore pieces here :3 since I really want to challenge myself in gpose sometimes

enjoy the fluff!!

[grahasblackmage]

All Work and No Play

Pairing: Alyss Leonhart x G'raha Tia

Summary: Alyss is ready to spend a passionate night with G'raha but first she needs to get him away from his work.

A/N: This is just pure unadulterated smut. Absolute smut.

Just had a random thought about my WoL giving G'raha a blow job and it has devolved into this. In no way is this edited or beta read.

I am so sorry for the badly written smut. It's been awhile ;;u;;

Alyss looked herself over in the mirror once more to make sure she washed the last bit of soap off her face. Confirming the job was done, she pulled out her lilac oil and applied it to her neck and chest. She knew G’raha couldn’t resist the smell and grinned to herself. She had been doing small errands for Krile since G’raha was busy with some research that day. Now that they were both settling down for the night, Alyss was ready to have some alone time with G’raha. After fluffing her hair a little, she turned off the light in the bathroom and walked into G’raha’s connecting room.

She saw he was laid out on his bed while reading a book and dressed in a loose white shirt and black smalls. She made her way towards him then climbed into bed with him. She placed a lingering kiss on his cheek making him smile. This didn’t stop him from reading his book however. Alyss gave a small pout as her tail thumped lightly on the bed; knowing she had to step up her game. She placed a hand on his chest and placed kisses along his neck, making him perk up slightly.

“Raha, you have been at it all day,” Alyss pouted placing a few kisses along his Archon mark.

G’raha turned his head to kiss her crown, “I know, my beloved. Just a couple more pages.”

Alyss’ ears flattened from annoyance but she knew her sweet G’raha was always thirsty for knowledge. She admired him for that but at this moment where she wanted him to fuck her, so she had to take the initiative. She moved down the bed so she could wedge herself in between his legs. Her fingernails lightly raked up his calves to his thighs, immediately grabbing G’raha’s attention since he looked from his book to the midnight haired Miqo’te whose golden eyes burned with desire.

“A-Alyss?” G’raha stuttered.

“You’ve been working too hard, Raha,” Alyss purred as she nuzzled his left thigh, “Let me take care of you.”

Before he could say anything, Alyss tugged down his smalls to throw them aside. She carefully took him in hand to place a small kiss on the tip. She gave him a few kitten licks before slowly taking him into her mouth, making sure her tongue gave attention to the underside of his cock. G’raha bucked his hips at the sensation as he grabbed the back of Alyss’ head. She grinned to herself then moved back slightly to where the tip was barely in her mouth. Her tongue ran along the slit making G’raha cry out and tighten his grip on her hair. Alyss moaned from the pressure of his grip as it turned her on more. She began to move at a steady pace and moved her hand to cup his sack.

G’raha’s fingers tangled deeper in her hair and hissed, “Oh, Wicked White.”

Oh. She hasn’t heard him say that in a good while. This meant she was doing a good job. Alyss gazed up at him with half lidded eyes to see him breathing heavily while his crimson eyes were also half lidded. He looked completely debauched but still beautiful all the same. As much as she wanted this, she knew that G’raha needed this as well. She wanted G’raha to be relaxed since he works all the time. She would do anything to make him feel good.

G’raha’s moans and small growls were turning Alyss on even more to where she needed to feel some relief. Not breaking from pleasuring her lover, she slipped her smalls down her legs and dipped her fingers past her folds. She began to match the pace of her fingers with her mouth, getting lost in the feeling. She then felt G’raha tug her head back by her hair but not enough to hurt her, a thin line of saliva connecting from her lips to his cock. Alyss saw passion burning in his eyes making her shiver.

Moving his hand from her hair to her chin, he gazed at her intensely, “You are going to come from my cock, not your fingers.”

Another shiver went up Alyss’ spine as he said that. His tone was similar to the Exarch’s and he knew it made her weak. G’raha pushed Alyss onto the bed and moved her to where she was on her stomach. G’raha’s hands stroked down her back then gripped her hips to settle her into a kneeling position. He settled behind her then gave her a firm swat on her backside making Alyss gasp. Alyss loved it when G’raha would take control whenever they make love and being dominated by him. To the world, she is seen as the Warrior of Light that conquers all her enemies. In the bedroom, G’raha was the one to bring her to her knees.

Alyss gripped the sheets and gasped as G’raha slid inch by torturous inch into her. She knew he was getting payback for her torturing him with her cheeky movements. Biting her lip, she tried to move back so he would be fully sheathed into her but his grip on her hips were holding her back.

“R-Raha… please…” Alyss whimpered.

“Please what, my dear Warrior?” G’raha purred.

Alyss bit her lip and whined as he pulled back to where his tip was resting in her, “Please fuck me, Raha! I need to feel you!”

G’raha tightened his grip slightly on her hip as he thrusted deep into Alyss that she swore she saw stars. G’raha’s hand ran along her back and the back of her neck to tangle his fingers back into her midnight locks. Lightly tugging her head to the side, he nipped and kissed along her neck up to her ear to nibble it. With every little attention G’raha was giving to her body, she felt like she would go over the edge any minute.

G’raha knew her body inside and out so he knew how to please her. It almost seemed he discovered a new pleasure spot whenever they made love. Most importantly, it always felt like they fit together perfectly.

“Raha… h-h-harder,” Alyss begged, “I’m so close.”

She felt G’raha nip her ear and smirk against it, “Manners, my love.”

She swore that this man would be her downfall, “Raha, please!”

He chuckled darkly only to pick up the pace within her and with a little more force. She nearly screamed as she felt his hand move from her hip to stroke her clit with the pace of his hips. Any coherent thought she had was gone and could only think of G’raha. She could feel her inner muscles flutter and constrict around his cock which was a telltale sign of her climax. She moved her hips faster while hearing G’raha growl behind her. He was completely bent over her as his hips began to stutter. He was close as well. Alyss reached back to touch his ruddy cheek and looked at him. He looked back at her only to press his lips to her. Alyss moaned into his mouth when she felt him release in her, causing her to release as well as they both rode out their climaxes.

Alyss then slumped onto the sheets as she felt completely boneless and relaxed. She felt G’raha lightly rub her back then carefully pulled out of her, making her groan from the loss of him. He laid back on the bed while pulling her into his arms. Alyss rested her head on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around her waist and tail intertwining with his leg. He chuckled while placing a kiss on her forehead as he held her.

“Was that payback for interrupting your research?” Alyss joked.

“Partially,” G’raha mused, “I told you a couple more pages.”

Alyss rolled her eyes but placed a kiss on his cheek, “All right, all right. Lesson learned.”

He chuckled again then brought the blankets over them and turned off the lamp over his bed. Alyss cuddled closer as her eyes grew heavy with sleep as G’raha nuzzled into her hair. If he was going to be like this during sex, she would have to interrupt G’raha’s research more often.