𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕨𝕟

Ind.Sel.Multi Nyx Ulric of Kingsglaive/FFXV

[dawnfrayed]

every day I wait for @kaerinio‘s 5k versions of Dragon Age verses 

[hopewrought]

some cute bethanyx by robasarel featuring @dawnfrayed ilu 💜

[dawnfrayed]

Bethany [ hopewrought. ]‌

Oh, she loves how he looks at her. It’s heartfelt, honest and warm. Almost as warm as his kisses that she welcomes by leaning into the touch, melting into him as much as their position allowed and letting out a pleased sigh. For as long as he’ll want to hear of her love for him she’ll say it, both in voice and body as a comforting rush of affection sings in her veins; finding an outlet in her hands that hold him close and gently card through his hair. It feels all too soon that he pulls away to lie beneath her again.  

“I absolutely will cry, and yes that is a threat.” Bethany laughs. Tears of joy, sorrow and anger all come to her with equal ease (much to her occasional internal chagrin) and she is already prepared for the inevitability of such an emotional response even with foreknowledge of the event. Her head dips down to plant a quick kiss on his pulse. “I’ll probably cry so hard that everyone will think you hurt my feelings.” Never let it be said that she can’t poke fun at herself. 

It is true that her mother is utterly charmed by him. Nyx had been nothing but the perfect gentleman in Leandra’s company, displaying impeccable manners and a level of respect that had both surprised Bethany and deepened her own endearment. “Mother loves you more than she loves her own children,” she half-jokes. “Having you as a son-in-law will be a dream come true for her, I’m sure. Just be prepared for some very unsubtle hints about grandkids.”

The question regarding the wedding has her silently gazing at him for a moment, idly tracing her fingertips along the length of his jaw. “We have to take our happiness where we can find it, I think. And what makes me happy is you. That won’t change, whether we get married tomorrow, or ten years from now. But I kind of like the idea of the whole world knowing you’re mine. And if we put it off waiting for the perfect time…. well, who knows how far away that could be.” If such a period were to exist at all. Their world is equal parts rigidly structured yet uncertain. As if to distract them both from the unwelcome dark path such thoughts could lead them down, Bethany cups his face in both of her hands and bestows a slow, lingering kiss on his lips. 

When she finally draws back, visibly happier and reassured; her head cocks to the side and she is incapable of repressing a smirk. “So, do you think announcing our engagement would be enough for Drautos to give us the morning off from PT at the buttfuck of dawn?”

Her kisses could be no sweeter to him than honey itself: mellifluous, dulcet, perfect. He could drown in those kisses, feel full for a thousand years from them. But all he wants to do is delight in them for the day. So he does, letting her grant kisses upon his lips that leave him breathless and bashed and never, ever tired of the thrill they bring to his old bones. 

Nyx looks uncharacteristically thoughtful as he lets his hands smooth up her thighs, resting at the bend of her hips. “Your mom can make all the hints she wants, and I’ll reassure her we’re definitely working on kids. If she knows what I mean. Practice runs till the sun comes up. I think she’ll be proud of us.” And he nods as if he really believes it, before breaking into another coltish grin. 

“But if I’m real here,” he goes on, his fingers drumming idly upon her hips. “I’m not ... in a rush to start anything just yet. I know what you’re saying, and ordinarily I’d agree completely .... I just ... I’ve lost a lot of people I love in this war. And I don’t want to lose any more. Not you, not ..... our kid. I know we’re just tossing ideas right now. I know it’s in the future. Maybe way in the future. But still.” He looks dead goddamn serious for probably the first time in his life. “I’m not ready.” 

He sniffs, and runs his hands nervously upon Bethany’s thighs, as if to shake away the dregs of that terrible foreboding. “Besides. More pressing matters to think of. Like how Drautos would probably assign us a double just to piss me off and punish you for what’s likely to be the biggest mistake of your life.” He’s grinning again, wolfishly, and squeezing at her bottom like a lech. “Monumental mistake. Huge. Hey, but at least your ass’ll never be lonely.”

[dawnfrayed]

Bethany [ hopewrought. ]‌

Was she asking?

Bethany bites her lip, looking almost startled and uncertain, a contrast to the dreamy, joking hypotheticals of mere moments before. Despite his smug look it feels as if things have become more real, a weight of seriousness layered onto what had started as banter. 

But she can’t say she hasn’t thought about it. She loves him with an intensity echoed back at her in kind; to those on the outside of their relationship it may seem more akin to a casual dalliance but her affection for him runs deep. The thought of a future together is both a dream she’d played with in her mind and something Bethany was afraid to hope for, knowing the reality of their stations in life. Any deployment could be the last, for either of them. 

And with that, her decision is made. 

She sits up, expression sober but soft. “If you want me to be asking, then yeah, I’m asking.” In effect he has already given a yes, but she desires clarity. No room for jokes or games. Not with the life they lead, and the uncertainty and impermanence it is shrouded in. “I’m already in this for keeps, Ulric, because I love the bones of you and I know that you know it!” Bethany moves to straddle him where he lays, planting a knee in the mattress on either side of his chest and looking down at him. “But I’m not gonna let you off the hook that easy, either. You need to ask me too. And I want a nice ring.” It’s her turn to grin now, letting out a small laugh and tucking her hair back behind her ear. “Oh, and you need to ask mother for permission first. I imagine she’d be quite upset if you didn’t!”

Nyx laughs, low and livened, and slips an arm about her waist, securing her to rightful place upon his lap as he maneuvers himself to sitting up. Awkwardly. But determinedly. His endeavor achieved, he stares up at her with an unmistakeable, moon-eyed adoration, grinning like an imbecile as he begs a kiss from her lips. 

“Never going to get tired of hearing you love me,” he asserts, leaning in to kiss the hollow of her throat, and pepper a few light kisses along her collarbone. “Not for the rest of my life, I won’t.” 

He shifts beneath her, hand on her ass to support her, as he leans back upon the pillows again, just to get a good look at her. “Also, if you’d waited two whole and complete seconds I would absolutely have asked. Which just means you have to do the whole weepy, surprised act when I ask you in front of all our friends. Deal?”

His hands rest upon her thighs, thumbs stroking her skin with an indolent affection. “Miss Leandra’s going to be easy as pie. She loves me. Sometimes more than you do, probably—I’m kidding, don’t hit me!” He looks contemplative a moment. “After that .... you think we should be planning a wedding in the middle of all of this?”

[dawnfrayed]

i srsly feel like there are more FF7 ppl following me here than my Tseng blog LMFAO

[explicitcherry]

[dawnfrayed]

@kaerinio

[euo]

[dawnfrayed]

@hopewrought

[hopewrought]

tfw ur dumb of ass boyfriend baits u into accidentally proposing @dawnfrayed

[dawnfrayed]

HE REALLY EFFIN DID

[dawnfrayed]

Bethany [ hopewrought. ]‌

A smile of her own answers his grin, always a hopelessly infectious thing to her – even if usually it is accompanied by him being a pain in the ass. The fond slap to her backside seems to reinforce the unvoiced sentiment though her radiant expression never wavers and she allows him to maneuver her on top of him more fully with a compliant grace, letting out a comfortable sigh. 

A small shift in position before she folds her hands in front of her and places her cheek on top of them. “Tomorrow,” she echoes glumly. An unrelished prospect. The mere thought of more training bullshit makes her want to sink into the lumpy mattress and disappear. At least, until he mentions the notion of running away. Bethany straightens, lifting her head and letting out a soft laugh. “A tempting idea, but where would we go?” It’s not like her home exists anymore, the outpost abandoned long ago after the last daemon raid; and the destination would need to be worth it to make up for whatever desertion charges they would be slapped with should the endeavour end in failure. “Besides, would you really impugn your hard-won honour for my sake?”

Eyes glittering, animated at this fantastical train of thought set in motion by his offhand remark, Bethany slides her hands up and braces them on either side of his head, allowing her fingers to sink into his hair. “Unless you’re suggesting we elope, or something.” A notion as romantic as it is foolish, both things that carry an appeal in their own way to the impulsive mage and she lets herself get carried away by it, pausing only to raise a brow at him playfully. “If we got married here it would surely upstage the royals and we can’t have that; it’d probably be considered treason or something.”

His stomach twists at the sight of that somber expression, and he regrets making the poor joke that leads her to that unnecessary sorrow. Why couldn’t he have agreed? Just went along with the fantasy instead of pulling them both back down in the muck and mire of this dismal reality?

But she’s back to dreaming, and this time Nyx is ready to float along with her. Stroking her hair, brushing it back from her temples just to watch the light in her eyes when she get carried away in her own imagination. 

Nyx laughs when she talks about honor, lets his arms wind about her shoulders and draws her up to steal a kiss. “Honor?” He’s crinkling his nose at the thought. “Accolades, maybe? Decorations? Laurels?” His hands slip down to find her ass again. “I think I did away with honor years ago.”

But she’s onto another fantasy, one that draws a wide-eyed wonder from him. It had been a joke, for sure. A half joke. How many times had he pictured them together on a Galahdian evening, sitting on the veranda, watching the stars with their hands entwined? Falling asleep to her breathing, waking up to her scent, and knowing that they were meant for one another, here and for all time? 

It was without question in his mind that Bethany was the one for him. He didn’t allow himself the certainty that she knew that. Yet. But for her to voice it ...

“Are you asking?” Nyx grins, his hands folded behind his head as he looks up at her with the most spectacular of shit-eating grins. “I mean, kind of unconventional for the lady to ask, but you know what? I’m a modern kind of guy. Sure, toots, I’ll marry you.”

[cobaltdays-deactivated20210208]

my pet: *does anything*

me:

[dawnfrayed]

@pactsborn

[dawnfrayed]

Dragon Age Verse

shared with @hopewrought !

Nyx is an Antivan Crow. Also fucks Bethany. That’s it. That’s the verse.

[dawnfrayed]

alternate Dragon Age AU: Bethany is the Divine, and Nyx still fucks Bethany

[dawnfrayed]

Bethany [ hopewrought. ]‌

Still half asleep in a dreamlike, in-between state, Bethany instinctively rolls closer to him and throws an arm across his midsection. Seeking her lover’s warmth is the most natural thing in the world, a unique solace that subconsciously calls her even before fully roused to wakefulness. It is the feel of his hand on her ass that drags her unwilling into the land of the living; to her immediate regret. She presses her face into his chest as if to shield her eyes from the intrusive sun filtering through, and groans. “I don’t want to get up yet,” she practically whines.

His apartment is practically a shoebox but it feels as much like a home as refugees can be afforded; small personal touches that give it a sense of being lived in and at least here they were able to have a measure of privacy – unlike her family home, where her siblings loved nothing more than to shove their noses into her business. 

Shame about those shitty curtains, though.

Initial petulance fades, but there is still a measure of unwillingness to greet the day. Propping her chin on his chest, Bethany looks up at him with a querying light in her gaze. “Do you think if we were to just lay here for a while, the rest of the world would forget we existed?” The question is facetious, of course, but her tone carries a wistfulness. A desire for some gods-damned peace and quiet, something that has been in short supply for almost as long as she can remember.

Nyx grins, unfailingly charmed by any and all of the affections Bethany deigns to bestow upon him.  Especially when she’s looking up at him with her eyes wide as hope, like there isn’t a war outside those walls, and they’re both of them on the front lines of it.

But here, she’s right. It’s like the whole world stops, and they can both just pretend like tomorrow isn’t a Monday, and they’re going to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to do drills on Drautos’ orders like calisthenics under the sun is going to save them from the sheer overwhelming waves of Magitek forces. 

“Absolutely,” he affirms, spiritedly, getting into the resolution of denial. Smacks her bottom to punctuate his enthusiasm. “...Until tomorrow.” That unpromised tomorrow that looms heavy and wild. 

He shifts onto his back, pulls her on top of him and settles happily under her weight. She’s pretty when she wants things from him, he decides. Which is altogether well and good, since he wants to give her the whole world. It’s a though that flits along the edges of clearer thoughts, that possesses him to blurt out, without ceremony: “Or we could run away together.”

[dawnfrayed]

Shadow trots up to him and gives a cautious sniff, tail flicking warily through apparent contemplation. This time he is not found wanting and she sits, expectantly. Crimson eyes seem to hold a softness for the first time; he may pet -- once.

@pactsborn​

I’m gonna MELT

You try too hard, Bethany’d told him. Once. And he didn’t quite cotton to that idea at all.

But here was the great cat, approaching as she sometimes is wont to do .... and sitting with the imperiousness of a queen by his feet. Which she has never before done. Not of her own accord. Not without the offerings of a literal and figurative pound of flesh, or whatever else she allows herself to be persuaded with in that moment. 

It still feels like a triumph, somehow. In spite of nothing done on his part to merit such a gift. He does his best to quell the excitement that threatens to pull him under like a riptide, to stop the rush of his hand to reach out and pet her. 

You try too hard.

So he looks away and leaves his hand out, palm open, for any majestically beautiful black cats to nuzzle into. If she so chose to.

[dawnfrayed]

@kaerinio getting ready to fight !

The tone and timbre of Drautos’ voice whenever he’s in the middle of one of his offensively-long tirades to lay down the law should be punishment enough. But it isn’t. The proving ground is littered with Glaives and Guards alike, paired up in resentful couplings that look a little too like marriages for Nyx not to laugh at them.

At least his partner was  ... well, he could tell she was going to be a handful, whatever she was. Pretty. Unusually pretty. Distinctly pretty. Thankfully wasn’t wearing one of those dick-withering scowls those Guard girls always got whenever they happened to cross paths with a Glaive. But he’d give her time.

“Listen—sweetheart,” he lingers on the epithet, leans in to deliver his warning in a low voice. “We’re gonna have to get along here. I know! I know ... not your cup of tea, either. I get it. But we gotta look good for the higher-ups, so that faster we get to getting good at whatever fucking Ninja Warrior bullshit they’re about to put us though, the faster we can dissolve this buddy cop partnership. And that means you’re gonna have to tow that line. You got it, princess?” 

[dawnfrayed]

@hopewrought​​ Bethany why do you like him

Nothing worse than waking up way earlier than necessary, and with the sun in your eyes. Like a big, fat, fuck you to your circadian rhythm. I’ve got to get new curtains,” he vows silently to himself, for the three thousandth, six hundredth and fiftieth day in a row, peeking an eye open to glare at the threadbare gossamer that peeks beyond the thin dingy curtains as if they’d owed him money. 

But if there’s one consolation to waking up in his sempiternally shitty apartment, it’s the occasional morning when he gets to wake up to Bethany. Bethany, with her dark hair splayed out on his lumpy pillow, like coffee made silk, her face wearing a rare expression of unperturbed bliss (unlike her waking moments, when it is caught in a state of too-often confusion aimed at him). 

She’s the prettiest thing that’s ever been in his room, and that’s an honor he doesn’t forget easily. Especially as he’s admiring her form hugged by the thin sheets he double up for warmth these days. He has the initial decency to grab her ass over the sheets. Until, inevitably, he gives in to the necessity of slipping a hand beneath them and palming it like the barbarian he is. 

“Hey,” he whispers into her hair as he kisses her cheek. “You up? Because I am.”

[hopewrought]

i love @dawnfrayed!! so much!!!

[dawnfrayed]

I LOVE @hopewrought SO MUCH MORE!!!

[hopewrought]

@dawnfrayed​ our ship in a nutshell and i think that’s beautiful