โง follow back from @gondowan
โง header by me โง poem by louis sachar โง lace dividers by pixopix
โง kindly do not reupload, repost, modify, translate, or feed my work into anything related to generative ai
Along the blackwater coast of Romirro, people whisper about the Lemuriansโthe beautiful strangers said to emerge from the sea wearing human shapes. Legends say they come ashore seeking humans, whether as meal or more, no one knows for certain. What is certain, however, is that they always find the exhausted, the indebted, or the heartbroken first. According to folklore, the Lemurians never drag anyone beneath the waves by force. Instead, they court their chosen for months or years, until the sea begins to feel more inviting than the land ever was.
You think you know what is happening, then, when the most handsome man you've ever seen washes ashore after a storm.
This is your family's hardest year yet, and somehow, despite the unlikeliness of the tide, he's deposited along the shallow pools where you and your sister gather shellfish. Water pools too enticingly in the hollow of his throat, beads along his long lashes, glittering against his pale skin. You do not trust the look of him. But your sister is already halfway in love with him, and cannot bear to leave him behind.
So you take him home, hoping that you are wrong.
You nurse him back from the state the sea left him in, careful not to let your sister go too near. Her fantastical, romantic waxings in the warmth of your hut have you almost believing you were too quick to draw conclusions about him. She is a year younger than you, in ways that feel more like a thousand years sometimes, but the naivetรฉ and idealism of her world view make you want to believe the world can like be that too. You hope she is right, and he is just a beautiful man.
But then he wakes, and you are all too certain he isn't.
His eyes fix too readily on you when he opens them, his attention too immediate and precise. He is too interested in you when he recovers enough to speakโand repeats your name in a way that makes a shiver slink down your spine.
He tells you his name is Rafayel, and he's been shipwrecked. When pressed, however, he cannot name his home port, the name of his ship, or any of his crewmates. The memory of what they were carrying is conveniently lost to the tides. He is too empty of anything except the sea, you think, and you watch him as closely as he watches you.
Your sister is entranced and enthralled with him. You should feel relief that his attention does not linger on her the same way hers lingers on him. But you cannot, with Rafayel inside your home, asking after you instead, your habits, your likes and dislikes. He's come ashore for something, you know, and you do not intend for him to find it in your home.
You watch him carefully, and when he is well enough, you cajole him outside with a request for help gathering shellfish. You lead him back down to the tidepools, a large bucket clutched in hand. You are apprehensive that he will catch on to your plan so you move slowly, try to turn back to him often, tipping your face up to his. You find yourself doing it almost too willingly, reluctant to tear your eyes away from him.
You turn your face up to his again as you make it to the tidepools, and Rafayel steps closer this time. His mouth lingers over yours, his body so close, the promise of something slipping between you. His eyes glint blue like the sea, and you almost forget yourself for a minute as his mouth lowers to yours.
It's half and accident when you overturn your bucket of collected rainwater between you.
But Rafayel's face changes immediately as he takes a shocked step back, and it's then that you know for sure.
Harbor folklore says Lemurians cannot pursue someone across running fresh water. And Rafayel stumbles back, long eyelashes fluttering as he stares at you in stunned disbelief. The tide laps angrily at his heels, suddenly growing discontent, roiling like a pot over the fire.
He says your name, sweet and entreating.
But you turn and leave before your small, freshwater stream can run its course into the sea. You will hang braided eelgrass across your door tonight, and burn peat in the hearth, so that he cannot get in again. You tell him as much as you clamber back up the shoreline to safety, tell him he is wasting his time on you.
But what you do not know is that once a Lemurian falls truly fond of someone, they become dangerously patient. He will wait, like the tide that keeps arriving, until the shore gives way grain by grain, and little by little slides into the waiting sea.
7 โงฝ. is there a fic you wish you received feedback on, but didn't get any/much? this ask game is asking someone else to then give feedback on said fic, pretty pretty please!!!
I'm always very jazzed when I get comments, but someone left a really nice constructive critique on thrice stricken that I've really taken to heart for future works. I'm always looking for constructive feedback, especially on longer works \o/
10 โงฝ. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?
Genre-wise, I find mysteries and plot-heavy things to be the easiest to write. Dialog is always nice (albeit not a genre). The hardest is smut, by far. I either write it in one go at blistering speed or I agonize over it for months. My WIPs are predominantly held up by my inability to write smut, it's now a tell of mine T_T
Vii why aren't you publishing fic lately! It's because I'm stuck on the smut
18 โงฝ. how do you want your writing to feel to your readers?
Ohhhh that's a great question. I...don't know honestly? I write what feels nice to me/for the characters + plot in that moment. I think ultimately I want to create scenes and scenarios that feel lived-in :)
summary: the King notices you slip away from the ball. He knows what they've been saying about you. He reminds you that before anything else, he's yours.
or: Xavier comforts you by eating you out on the throne.
notes: 18+, mdni, pwp, no spoilers, cunnilingus, fingering, established relationship, reassurance, kind of romantic, maybe ooc? xavier is a little unnerving in some parts of this because darker Xavier is yummier, jealous!mc for approximately three seconds, freak 2 freak communication strikes again. written before myth release. 2.7k words of...something. do not read if any of the above is not to your taste.
โItโs cute when youโre jealous.โย
The Kingโ noโ Xavierโs voice echoes throughout the great hall, shaking you from your reverie. You had excused yourself by complaining of a headache, departing from the festivities as soon as diplomatically feasible. The gloom in your expression mirrors the frigid hall and you turn away from him, feigning extreme interest in his claymore propped up by the foot of the throne.ย
You hadnโt expected Xavier to notice you slip away; he was drowning in the attention of his ministers and diplomats as it were, and frankly you didnโt feel like talking to him.ย
Especially not with the way his gaze seemed to linger on the ladies-in-waiting being paraded in front of him. No matter the millenia, there were always lesser nobles trying to curry the kingโs favor through their daughters and sons. That, coupled with your lack of ties to nobility despite being the Queen Consort, was a perennial sore spot. The whisper campaign about how you seduced the Mad King, how you mustโve slept your way to being Grandis Knight and then Consort despite having no lands or titles, was evident in every hushed conversation, a persistent buzz every second Xavier held court.ย
Although Xavier had made it abundantly clear that that was not the caseโ showering you with his affection, his words, his time, his touchโ the ugly feelings were difficult to deal with, especially in front of an audience. All the pomp and circumstance of the long day meant you had way too much time to stew in your misplaced anger.ย
Your favorite solution to this problem? To leave as quickly as possible so that no one would catch your mask slipping.ย You needed an escape from the stuffy courtiers, the polite superficial conversation.
It takes Xavier mere steps to cross the dais and you hear him come to a stop in front of the throne where you stood. You refuse to acknowledge him, stewing in your nervous energy.ย
The sudden warmth of his chest against your back startles you as his arms circle your waist. Xavier sighs happily, as he always does when the two of you are alone. He doesnโt speak, instead leaving little pecks on your cheek, nose nuzzling behind your ear, long hair tickling your neck.ย
โJeremiah almost bit my head off for ignoring the ladies being introduced.โ
He knows. Of course he can tell by the way you hold yourself.ย With merely a sentence, the worries you had been nourishing start to release.
Wordlessly, he spins you around, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a soft, polite kiss over your knuckles as if the ball was actually here and he was just a gentleman inviting you to dance.ย ย
You pout halfheartedly, unwilling to fold so quickly. Youโre only prolonging the inevitable though, because you canโt help but move into his embrace, seeking his comfort. You feel him chuckle as he kisses your hair and squeezes you in a hug before taking your hand once more right as music starts to fill the room from the outside.ย
The two of you cut across the moonlight soaked room in an effortless waltz, not a beat out of tempo, his arms a strong cradle around you.ย The hall is silent except for your heels clicking in time to the muted sounds of the orchestra.
Midway through the third movement, a minuet this time, Xavier finally speaks.
โHow can I show my dear Queenโโ a step forward, your gown shimmering across the floor, โโ how much she means to me?โ.
ย A sweeping sidestep to his right. He places another kiss over your wedding ring, mannerisms gentle, eyes anything but.
All the fight bleeds out of you as you follow his lead, letting him control the pacing, giving up your pain, choosing him instead. Xavier has so much to carry, and the two of you only have each other.
The music swells and he pulls you in close, steady hand on your back as he gently dips you, stealing a kiss to your cheek.ย
โHow can I show her that I would throw it all away just for her?โ he breathed, eyes wide. It startles you, the determination behind his statement, as if he was repeating a sworn oath, one that kept him company throughout his journey in the heavens.ย
Another kiss, this time his breath hovering just a beat too long on the curve of your chest, gaze heavy over the line of your neck, the shadows over your collarbones, taking in the way your breathing started to become heavier. When it comes to flirtation, Xavier is shameless.ย
โHow do I tell her, โThe only title I want is as her husband?' โ. He plants a constellation of kisses on your collarbone, each one setting your body alight. You feel heat start to fan across your body as he traces his fingertip along your jeweled choker.
โI suppose I could always shower her in more gifts,โ he muses, smiling as he pecks your nose. He rewards your giggle of delight with another.
โBut I think this way is better,โ he says as he leans in to finally kiss you, deeply, as if he could imprint his adoration for you onto your body. His palms reach up to cradle your cheeks, tilting it just so right as sweeps his tongue into your mouth, humming with delight when your lips part at his intrusion.
Gently, reluctantly, Xavier pulls back, pleased with how your lips are now parted, eyes half-lidded, nervously swallowing your need, no shade of your petulant earlier self. It was never actually personal. You just needed a little reminder.ย
Xavier holds you cheek to cheek as the two of you sway to the violins outside, the light of your gown and the dark of his suit a study in intimate contrast. A firm suck to your earlobe has a moan escaping you, and thatโs when you hear it, just a whisper above your ear.ย
โShall I execute every person who makes you feel this way?โ
You freeze, a distant alarm bell sounds, just a little.
He doesnโt react, and you find his gaze is suddenly distant and dull over your shoulder. When you donโt respond, he continues, voice steady, โString them outside the castle walls because they dare make my wife feel this way?โ. He says this matter-of-factly, like it's nothing as he kisses your cheek and something like fear settles in your spine alongside the arousal. He would never want you to be afraid of him, but you know him also to be a good actor.
โIโd do anything for you, you know.โย
โI know, Your Majesty.โ is all you can muster as you blink owlishly at him.
But before you can speak any further he pulls back and smiles at you, eyes soft and full of affection, not a trace of malice or otherwise. Sometimes, youโre not sure which Xavier youโre speaking to.ย
You take an unconscious step backward.
โUh-uh. Donโt run from me.โ he coos.
โNot you too.โ he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Your heart quickens, off-kilter by the sudden change in Xavierโs demeanor as he slowly walks forward, leaving you nowhere to go but the throne.ย
ย Heโs playing with you though, you realize, because heโs giving you plenty of opportunities to run.ย
โLight can travel around Philos in 0.013 secondsโ, you remember him saying once, somewhere in the murky past.ย
If he was ever serious, well, itโd be over before you even knew it.
You collapse onto his seat, slightly bewildered, equal parts burning with desire and stiff with a kind of fear.ย
โAh,โ he remarks, โWhere are my manners?โย
He flings the tails of his jacket back, and kneels in front of you, hand over his heart.
โMay I take this opportunity to show my devotion Your Highness?โ
Xavier doesnโt need a throne to project authority. Even as he kneels in front of you, the picture of supplication, with his back to the door, a position anyone else would consider vulnerable; youโre the one who is pinned by his gaze, by the smile playing at his lips as his eyes trails up the slit of your gown. Itโs his particular favorite, the gold thread blending in seamlessly with the ivory and traces of blue, delicate golden flowers at your feet, just like he had requested.ย
โYou may.โ is your response.
Xavier doesnโt skip a beat, eager hands retracing his eyes. His palm comes to rest just skimming the highest point of the cut in your dress, fingertips just skirting the lace of your garter, anchoring your leg to him. Xavier rests his head on your other thigh, looking up at you from under his lashes.
โAllow me to show you then.โ he whispers, hot breath ghosting over your legs. The silky material transfers the feeling straight to your center. Without waiting for an answer he suddenly reaches under you and yanks you towards him. The sudden movement makes your legs butterfly open, causing the material of your dress to pull up and bunch around your waist.ย
Xavier runs his knuckle up your covered core, ignoring your panicked demands to stop as it dawns on you what heโs about to do. Right now. In the open.ย In the room where youโd always felt your lowest.
Thought quickly flees however, as Xavier brings the full weight of his attention onto you. He kisses right over your clitoris, laving and sucking at it through the thin fabric, ruining it for good measure before pulling them to the side.
Xavier eats you out with a ferocity he reserves for little else. He uses everything at his disposal, fingers, tongue, lips, nose to feel every part of you, sending ripples of pleasurable overwhelm throughout your body, the kind that makes you chase for more and more. Itโs animalistic and sloppy as your juices and his saliva drip down his chin and your thighs, defiling the literal seat of his power.ย ย
His iron grip holds your legs open, giving you no quarter, no way to escape his assault. You scrabble at the arms of his throne, looking for an anchor, anything. Xavier snatches your wrist, placing your hand in his long hair, carelessly knocking his crown to the floor.ย Youโre so far away it barely registers.
Hold on to me, I always have you, is what he means.ย
Itโs all you can do to hold onto him. He moans when you yank, eyes rolling into the back of his skull, as he continues with fervor. Your nerves are on fire before he finally takes a break to bruise your thighs, leaving purple blossoms all over the tops of your garters, looking almost deranged with lust as he straightens up to kiss you, the scent of you all over his mouth, the taste of you all over his tongue. He looks almost rejuvenated.
Reluctantly, he pulls away from you with a gasp before diving back into your cunt.ย ย
โY-Your Majesty Iโโ a particularly earnest suck has you seeing white.ย
โThatโs not who I am,โ he retorts instantly, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He watches the way you swirl your tongue around his fingers with rapt attention, sticking them just far enough down your throat to be uncomfortable, making you gag. You donโt miss the way his eyes darken, blue eclipsed entirely by black, as he watches you choke. You must be mad too, because that only amplifies your need for him. For this Xavier, your Xavier, the one that indulges the darkest parts of himself, the parts that do live up to his reputation, a sight only ever for you to see.ย
What His Majesty wants you to know is that before he is king, he is yours. Before he is anybody, he is just Xavier.ย
He would be content to do this for the rest of his unnatural life, head between your legs, two fingers slowly pushing in, grinning as you let your head fall back with a moan. He curls his fingers with devastating precision, relishing in your pleas and gasps, the little tells signalling that you wanted more.ย
โDonโt be shy starlight.โ the old nickname from before fills you with a kind of warmth that could only be described as divine. ย
โTell me what you want,โ Xavier pleads, voice husky, โlet me be a good husband and a good lover.โ It makes your heart ache.ย
Your words come out crystal clear. Full of surety that he wishes you would always have moving forward.
โMake me feel good. I want you to make me feel good Xavier.โ
He shudders as he hears his name fall from your lips, turning to kiss the little anklet he gifted you on your wedding day, a delicate barely there golden chain. Even in the dim light the little โXโ glitters as you thrash around in his grasp, arching your back off the throne as his fingers continue to pump methodically in and out of your hole. Occasionally, heโll pull them completely out, instead dragging his hand across your folds, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver as you demand sensation from him.
Your world shrinks to the feelings that he allows you, the points of contact he allows you to partake in. He is equally as vocal as you are, the way he moans your name into your pussy makes your skin dance, sweat shimmering all over you.
Itโs your turn to be in prayer, as you cry out his name over and over.
โYesโoh god Xavierโ Xavierโ my angel.โ
He lets you scream yourself hoarse before he adds a third finger.
You see stars, trying desperately to scrabble off of Xavierโs face as you approach your end. Some distant part of you knows that heโll have to walk around with evidence of your sin all over him back to royal bedchambers. The more present part of you though, knows that that is a foregone conclusion, and that he doesnโt care. In fact, you know Xavier would be delighted and shameless about it.
Thereโs nowhere to go as he pulls you towards oblivion on the tip of his tongue.
โAll over me, or nothing at all starlight.โ
The contrast between the fullness in your pussy, his ringed knuckle brushing on your clit, and the roughness in his voice has you spiraling as you cum. Your orgasm is unmistakable in the way you try desperately to curl in on yourself, in the way your thighs ache, warm liquid spraying onto his chest, his hair as you buck into Xavierโs face with a cry.ย
Xavier watches as you drip down the throne onto his claymore with naked, almost incredulous delight.ย
โNow youโve gotten it all over my bladeโฆโ he tutted, โwasnโt enough to just soak my clothes hmm?โ
Firm fingers grasp your jaw, directing your gaze back to him. While youโve been on the receiving end of his affection, he looks almost worse than you, evidence of your release all over his chin and hands and jacket. That, coupled with the secretive smile on his lips lets you know he is far from done.
His voice is soft as his thumb caresses your cheek. โI seem to recall allowing you to cum, but not to make a mess.โ
โI recall no agreements of any sort,โ you croak, still coming to, trying to catch your breath. โHas my liege picked up bad habits at court too?โย
His laugh, relaxed and unguarded, echoes across the air you two share.
โThereโs also the matter of my consort getting in her head about frivolous, untrue things,โ he tuts, finger tapping his lip as if in thought.
โWeโre going to leave court for a spell, just the two of us,โ he whispers, palms once again parting your thighs as he licks his lips, โand Iโll permanently extinguish that thought from your pretty head before we return.โย ย
Itโs a promise as good as any oath.
notes:can't wait to get my greedy hands on all the new lore. i wrote this to distract myself from the wait (curse being in na server!). this kind of went in all manner of directions tonally i was kind of hoping to strike a balance between loving wifeguy xavier and maybe he's actually gone slightly crazy xavier. i hope he isn't too ooc! if you saw any mistakes, it's approximately 1 am and i wrote/edited the bulk of this in a few hours shh. i want to see him getting pegged on the throne too hmm.
may he come home on soft pity to everyone who wants him!
1 โงฝ. if you could sit down and finish any one of your wips without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), which fic would you choose? tell us about it if you want!
2 โงฝ. if you could sit down and finish any completely new fic without anything stopping you (time, tiredness, etc), what would you write? tell us about it if you want!
3 โงฝ. what's something you like about your writing?
4 โงฝ. is there an au or trope that you haven't written before, but would want to try?
5 โงฝ. is there a certain kind of fic that feels the most satisfying to finish? any reason why?
6 โงฝ. if you were to write a part two/sequel to a fic, what fic would you want to write it for?
7 โงฝ. is there a fic you wish you received feedback on, but didn't get any/much? this ask game is asking someone else to then give feedback on said fic, pretty pretty please!!!
8 โงฝ. what part of [insert fic] is your favorite?
9 โงฝ. tell us about a wip/idea that you're excited about!
10 โงฝ. what genre is generally the easiest or most enjoyable for you to write? which is the hardest?
11 โงฝ. if you were to rewrite [insert fic] with [insert different character/ship] how do you think it might change?
12 โงฝ. what's a song or two you associate with [insert fic]?
13 โงฝ. do you have any writing projects/goals/plans you're working on/want to work on?
14 โงฝ. is there anything outside of your normal content that you want to write?
15 โงฝ. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] with [insert character/ship] what do you think it might be about?
16 โงฝ. if you wrote a fic called [insert title] what character/ship would you want to write it for?
17 โงฝ. are there any songs you want to write a songfic for?
18 โงฝ. how do you want your writing to feel to your readers?
19 โงฝ. give a hint/teaser about something you're writing without any context or explanation! tease us haha
20 โงฝ. answer any one of the other questions that you want to!
first you gotta do the build up and then the actual fucking and the fucking is pretty easy but you never know how long the fucking should last, and eventually you're like "okay I'm tired of this" so the characters cum, but you're not done yet because you can't just end it at "he fucking nutted everywhere" you gotta keep going, and the characters have to chat a little or cry or think about how horrible they are or something and then you kinda don't know when to end that either so now you're 2k words in and you might have put too much self hatred and not enough sucking dick. so you wrap it up, and think well it's done now.
or sometimes you have it all perfect in your mind and you knock the whole thing out in 2 to 3 hours.
nobody will learn anything bc of course not but this entire lads situation is a huge blinking neon sign listing why demanding anything cater to your personal tastes and opinions ruins everyoneโs fun but it also requires emotional intelligence to absorb this lesson which just doesnโt exist in a world full of โme no likey so me no WANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!โ
having emotional and mental flexibility is literally the most important thing you have. being able to say this doesnโt cater to me but i know thereโs someone out there who will be really happy about this should be standard and im not gonna pretend like fandom has always been sunshine and roses (ff.net drama for example if youโre a fandom ancient like me) but this attitude of well if i donโt like it clearly nobody else can or theyโre disgusting and deserve harassment is pretty new and prevails way too often for comfort lol
โฆand cat butler Xavier twirled me and then pinned me to the wall and then let me touch his cat ears itโs so over I am never leaving Xavier I will save him from Infold if itโs the last thing I fucking do!!!!
Iโve witnessed some genuinely confounding decisions that companies can make but this absolutely might be top three.
The fact that this also doesnโt address any of the actual problems players have been wanting resolutions for (QoL, combat, story) is insane work.
How hard could it have been to say: we hear your concerns and we botched his introduction by not giving players sufficient in-game plot ramp up for his character. In addition, hereโs a roadmap for QoL and main story updates moving forward.
Like if they made SHC weekly, reset Abyssal Chaos or even Orbits, and pledged to update main story three times a year, I think that wouldโve sufficed???
summary: Xavier's had eons to think about how your first time together might go. Not once did he expect it would happen during his rut.
w.c.: 4.5k | AO3
notes: 18+, mdni, pwp-ish, werewolves, knotting, first times, Xavier and MC lust after each other like pent-up Victorians, reluctance on Xavier's part, my tenses are everywhere. Look I just wanted to write some good old fashioned werewolf smut. If I missed anything let me know! Please do not read if any of the above bothers you.
Xavier has been acting strangely.
For one thing, he's been clearly uncomfortableโ running hot even in the frigid chill of Sindersfell. It's barely sunrise, and Xavier's already unbuttoned his shirt collar, beads of sweat pooling dangerously at the hollow of his throat. The innermost part of you cheered at the hint of collarbone over breakfast. You figure that was going to be as exciting as today would get.
By midday, he's down to an undershirt and his usual riding pants and boots. You're having the best day of your life since you woke up in the Order of Babel. Having only been "awake" for a few weeks, no one could fault you for not knowing staring was impolite.
And you stared.
By sundown he's shirtless, absentmindedly picking at his skin, unable to find relief. You approach him, balms and poultices in hand. Xavier does seem genuinely in distress, skin angry and dry and hot, and he manages a polite "thank you" at your help, even though he looks like he'd rather be anywhere than in your presence. It's a good thing you have ulterior motives right now, his mood be damned.
You pay little heed to his tempest moods, swallowing nervously as you rub the herbal balm into his back with sweeping circles. The pungent earthy smell of oakmoss prickles at your nose but it's far from your thoughts. Instead, you selfishly take this time to admire him as he sits with his back towards you, long silky hair pulled forward so you have an uninterrupted view as you get to work.
And it is quite the view. This close, you can feel his lungs expand and contract as your hands glide over the expanse of his back. If you press in just a little, you can almost feel his pulse, low and steady. It's a shame you can't just press your ear up to his chest to listen whenever you wanted. His scarred muscles ripple and shift under your hands, alive, thrumming with energy. You're energetic too, albeit for different reasons.
Just before you reach the waistband of his pants, you stop, abruptly standing up.
"All done!" you pat his head, awkwardly brushing imaginary dust off your skirts as he looks back at you with confusion.
"Ohโ" he starts, before closing his mouth, thinking better of it. "Thank you."
He hasn't met your eyes, not once before he walks away, ears crimson.
Xavier's also been prickly and irritable, stalking the castle halls in a shadowy mass of sharp edges and heat. A group of Revenants call out as you both return to the castle, their religious fervor reaching a fever pitch with each praise sung.
By the time you make your short walk between the castle gates and your quarters, it's quiet.
Xavier's leveled them all in a stony fit.
You question him about it over dinner.
"The Dead are too noisy," he says flatly.
Now that you two are no longer in town, he's back to wearing little. Your eyes linger and you forget what you were asking to begin with.
This little dance continues for about a week. Xavier stomps around Sindersfell half-naked, clawing at his skin, you stare for a little too long, committing to memory the line of his waist, the way his arms flex, showing off the corded muscle usually hiddenโ
And trying to help him.
Of course.
Which is why you're shocked to turn the corner and see Xavier leave through the gates.
โ
Old habits die hard, and Xavier leaves without a word, fleeing into the night. His rut is his problem, and his problem alone to deal with.
But he couldn't get very far.
He didn't want to get very far.
Not with the full moon sapping his faculties, not with the way his transformation took him by surprise after it had been dormant for so many years. Centuries in fact. The last time he had a rut he was barely a Knight on Philos. You never had to hear about it because the royal family kept that secret under even tighter wraps.
He spares a glance at the setting sun and presses Shadowbind onward. He can't help that his senses all sharpen as the full moon draws closer. It's bad enough when you're in your (his) room touching yourself, full of lush moans and soft whines as you please yourself on his bed. His body, ever traitorous, seeking its mate, responds instantly, knot swelling at the base of his cock so quickly it makes his head rush. His willpower crumbled as soon as his name left your lipsโ hand flying to fist his cock in time with your pace, imagining you crying for his knot, your body all soft and warm around him.
The woman he loves, crying around him, taking him, taking him like that. Even in his loneliest days he never allowed himself the fantasy of indulgence. Either you would run away screaming or he would hurt you somehow.
It's worse in the day because he can't avoid you, even if he really wanted to. You greet him every morning for breakfast, and he has the unscrupulous task of trying to focus and act normal even as his senses tunnel, seeing evidence of your arousal everywhere. Your eyes dilate every time you look at him, you squeeze your soft thighs together under the table, shifting quietly in your seat, and you smell amazing. Your scent tickles his nose, warm with a slight undertone of something maybe floral, maybe gourmand. Gourmand seems right, Xavier thinks, because you smell delectable, appetizing even, like the fruit you so enjoy stealing by the riverbank. He wants to take his time with youโ he has to be a gentleman, treat you right, treat you kindโ
Then you reach over and pat his hand, interrupting his thoughts, and he goes lightheaded because it's the same hand you used to touch yourself last night and suddenly all he wants is to rut you into the floor. Why bother with the niceties, his brain roars, seething, it'll end up like this regardless.
You smile at him from across the table, so soft and so beautiful, and shamefully all he can think about is mounting you and marking you. Maybe tie you to the bed so no one can ever have you or look at you or be near you or share your air ever again. How did it get so bad? It wasn't like this last time.
Time had worn away his defenses, he reasoned. Sanded them down until they were just a pithy little net, sized perfectly for you to get past it. Or maybe he had just missed you more than he could ever know.
He's had so much time to think about how your first time together would go but not once did he imagine it might take place during his rut. For your protection, and his, the only reasonable thing to do was to leave. Or at least not be in the general vicinity of Sindersfell.
As soon as he hears your chamber doors close for the night, he bolts. He reaches the edge of the forest in a few hours, pushing Shadowbind to it's limit. It doesn't seem to mind, although it pointedly looks at him before disappearing with a slight huff.
The last ray of light disappears over the horizon and he continues, on foot. The underground facility is still functioning, barely. Xavier had restored it in secret after returning to Philos.
"Your Highness. Is this necessary? You'reโฆyou'reโฆno longer mated."
"Was I ever?" is what he wants to say. Jeremiah was right. There was no danger of a rut without a mate.
At this point you had been gone for over a hundred years.
There's no time to feel relief about his foresight. Inky black and gold clothing pool on the floor with each step as Xavier yanks his finery off, itchy and uncomfortable as he stumbles down the hall. The containment facility was cold, bereft of your warmth, bereft of any creature comforts. But at least he's alone, and far enough away that he couldn't just bolt back to the castle and smash your door open, ruining all of his plans, ruining you.
The realization is cold comfort.
Feverish, he attaches the manacles to his arms, dripping sweat making him clumsy as he struggles with the rusty iron.
The shift hurts. His skeleton is starting to transform, bones lengthening with solid snaps, muscles growing even taller and stronger. With each step his skin looks like it's alive, meat and bone bubbling underneath to accommodate the new form. A high pitched noise fills his eardrums as Xavier doubles over, grunting in pain, sweating as his body warps, biting down on his glove to minimize noise, giving his hearing a chance to adjust. Hands, already large, elongate, ending in sharp black claws. Eons of training had left him a more prepared shifter than most, but even then this was painful.
Above all, he hates giving into his baser self. The emotions he had spent lifetimes carefully compartmentalizing, carefully dealing with, all compromised by the accident of his birth.
The shift always happens first, and then the worst part. The rut itself. The all-consuming want makes a mockery out of Xavier, as if he hasn't spent his entire lifetime wanting. Wanting to escape. Wanting to leave. Wanting you. The desire that ripples through him is so heady it's almost nauseating as his brain makes desperate attempts to stay vaguely human.
But those thought are so, so enticing to explore.
Would you enjoy being claimed violently? He had never gone through a rut with you, but he imagines it'd be violent. The image of you, flushed when he refused to return your hand after kissing it the second time you metโฆyou had liked that, he remembered.
You had liked that a lot.
No, no, no. Holding your hand for just a smidge longer than proper was nowhere in the same realm as wanting you underneath him, begging for his marks, begging for him, wanting him. Would you look at him in disgust and run? Or would you think differently?
The long-suffering romantic in him dares to hope. The practical realist knows better. The werewolf in him however, wants you come hell or high water. Wants to kiss your stomach, touch every curve, memorize every sound, feel every part of you on its tongue, see you impaled on his knot, claimed.
It, and he, knows that you'll be perfect, like coming home. With a sigh, he palms himself, hoping the relief of his hand will suffice.
It won't.
โ
"Leave."
You hear him before you see him, a deep sonorous sound echoing through the halls. It's distorted, like he's speaking underwater, and disembodied, coming at you from all directions. The facility Xavier fled to was well-hidden in the trees, just at the edge of the forest. It seems both ancient and modern, the relic of a bygone era of Philos. There's only one small foyer, and a set of stairs that only go down.
With only the dim emergency lights as your company, you descend.
The basement door is ajar.
"Xavier, are you there?" you call out into the darkness. A cool, damp, earthy scent fills your nose, and the clink of metal gets louder as you gingerly make your way through.
"I said leave."
His voice, low, distressed, biting, is coming from deeper underground. You turn a corner, and that's when you see it.
A hulking, growling creature looms over you, wrists enclosed in heavy manacles attached to the wall. It's covered from head to toe in long shaggy silvery fur, so light that it reflects in the darkness, bathing it in an eerie glow. It's easily twice your size, ambling about the dark room on strange bipedal lupine legs. Every bit of it screams danger: hands big enough to palm your head ending in sharp black nails, glistening fangs covered in spit, muscled legs tight with tension. This wolf creature is on edge, sniffing, looming over you as it scents the air.
Adrenaline surges through your veins as your body wills you to move, run, anything. But shock and fear and anxiety keep you rooted to the ground as you gaze up at the monstrous creature chained to the wall.
Even in the low light, you know it's Xavier. You would know him anywhere, in any form.
"I told you to leave," the creature growls, lips curling back, showing teeth, "Not die."
Up close, his voice sounds even more distorted, as if he were trying to pluck at vocal cords not suited for such sounds. Cold, flat blue eyes bore into you, eerily reflective even in the dim light. He's emitting so much heat he's steamingโ the air around him is shimmering in the darkness around his fur.
"I'm not leaving," you step forward.
He growls, shaking his head before lunging at you.
The chains go taut, just long enough at full length that Xavier's teeth are just centimeters from your face.
You reach forward, calling his bluff, and he backs away, skittish, tail between his legs. Scared of your touch? Of you?
"Xavierโฆ"
He groans, retreating into the dark corner.
"Don'tโฆ.I don't want to hurt you," is all he says.
You step forward again, this time slowly.
"You would never." Famous last words perhaps, from a person walking into certain doom.
The chains rattle as Xavier slams his fist into the wall, startling you. Dust falls as the walls rumble in protest.
"You can't know thatโ-" he growls, seething, "It wouldn't be just the regular kind of pain."
Regular kind of pain? From his teeth? From his nails?
Your eyes float down, and you see it. His need is obvious, hanging heavy between his legs, aching, glistening. Even shadowed, it's prominent against his belly.
Slowly you put two and two together. Xavier's behaviors up til today, this wolf creature, the way he cuffed himself to the wall, his comment about "regular pain"โฆ
"Will thisโ" you make a vague gesture with your hands towards his crotch, warm in the face, "โ go away if I help you?"
"I don't want your help," is the immediate clipped response, almost incandescent with barely suppressed rage.
Liar. You saw his cock twitch. He's been sneaking glances at your body, pale fathomless eyes darting to and fro, unable to hold your gaze. The cloak on the floor is damp with a suspiciously milky fluid. His hand was obviously not enough.
You cup his cheeks, digging into the soft fur. He's trembling, nails digging into his palms, unable to look away this time, eyes wild.
"Starlight," he whimpers, "You can't be seriousโ" he groans, panting, trembling into your touch.
"I am," you hear the words before you process them. "I'm not leaving. We're doing this." You take a step forward, stepping over your gown. "Or we'll spend the rest of our days thinking about it and wishing we did."
You place a gentle kiss at the tip of his nose.
"I don't want to live with that kind of regret, Xavier," you murmur, "Please don't let me live with that kind of regret."
โ
Just like how he followed you across the stars, of course you followed him into the night. You're wide-eyed, alert, as you take in his form. Shivering slightly, although that seems to have more to do with being deep underground than fear. You don't smell like you're afraidโ in fact, you're probably too stubborn and too insolent to even consider being afraid of him.
"Defiant as always," he grits his teeth, tasting iron from the way he's been chewing the inside of his cheek for the last fifteen minutes. Your palm on his chest is barely enough and he's so hard he's almost embarrassed, whining.
"Xavier..." you smile, full of secrets of your own, "Don't you like me better this way?"
You look up at him, and he knows its over. No matter what else you say, what else you do, it's over. He's reached the end of his rope.
He's sorry your first time together is going to be like thisโ
And then you slide the strap off your dress, then the next, letting your gown pool at your feet. For a singular moment he sees you and the invitation you're giving him.
If he had been any more human he would luxuriate in the image of you, naked save for your smalls and the jewelry he had gifted you, glinting off of your throat. But his eyesight is magnitudes better and even in the dim light he can see your nipples are peaked and the want in your eyes.
He breaks free before it even registers in what's left of his mind.
Dimly, he registers that he's ripping the crown jewels of Philos off your neck as he pulls you close, diamonds clattering onto the ground, catching in the dim light like little stars. Priceless, his grandmother had mentioned once. Nothing is more precious than what's in his arms right now.
His his his.
He's so crazed that for a moment he just holds you, panting in your ear, relishing the feeling of you in his arms, a relief he didn't know was possible at your acceptance of him. But he can't take you right away. For all your bravery, he still needs, no, wants to prepare you before you can take him in this form.
The cloak he had stripped off finds its way under you as he maneuvers you onto your back. You titter, shouting in surprise as he presses his nose directly between your thighs, taking deep huffs. His tongue laps at the entirety of your crotch, hot and slick against your vulva, swirling at your clit. Your scent is so strong here that Xavier's head swims, tail wagging as he eats you out with intensity that he reserves for little else. Each pass of his tongue gets you higher as you start to moan, anchoring your hands in his fur. He opens his mouth wider, breath hot against your clit before his tongue dives inside your pussy, grunting as he fucks you with it. Your walls squeeze him as he swirls the muscle inside you, making a mental map of the places that make you sing out. He's so far gone that he's starting to hump the floor as he eats you.
"Xavierโ Xavier!!"
That's the only warning he gets before you cum, back bowing as you arch. With a satisfied grunt he pulls down by the waist, holding you down on his tongue, lapping at the hot fluid as you shudder, sighing as you come down. You reach down and massage his ears, still loose languid from your orgasm. He whines in satisfaction, finally prying his mouth of of you, muzzle glistening in the low light.
Suddenly, you push away, chest heaving, gesturing for him to lay back with a steely look in your eye.
He whimpers, ears flat, suddenly uneasy as you move to straddle him, holding out his palm to assist you. For a second you just giggle as you sit astride his hips, running your hands over the silver and white fur of his belly, digging your hands in deep, much to Xavier's obvious embarrassment.
And then you raise your hips on top of his length.
"W-wait. Notโnot likeโ" there's something perversely amazing at the sight in front of him: you, poised and determined, regal and beautiful and maybe a little insane for even just the thought of what you're about to do. Him, falling apart, torn between the demands of his form and his fraying self-control, hands now balled into fists, too afraid to touch you further.
"You need me," is all you say. He's always needed you. What else is new?
All he can feel, all he can see right now is the is the tip of his cock, red and aching, so close to your entrance he can feel it's warmth. You're so wet now you're shining. If your need smelled good before, it is in full bloom now, a potent calling card and an eternal reminder that he needs you. And somehow, despite or in-spite it allโฆ
"I need you too Xavier," you breathe, just as you lower yourself onto him. Sweat beads on your brow as you breathe in and out, slowly rocking onto his cock. The air is still, save for your gasps as you will your channel to accept him.
"Let me," he pleads, licking the beading sweat from your brow. This shouldn't be your task, this shouldn't be your responsibility.
"No. This won't work unless you let go."
You give him a pointed look.
"Will you let go? Will you take what you need?"
Xavier stands on the precipice of the unknown.
He sobs, Yes.
He's so consumed with need that for moments he just fucks your thighs, one broad hand easily holding the entirety of your waist, licking and nipping at whatever he can reach, lightheaded as he watches the reddened tip of his thick length disappear in and out of you. It's different from his human one, more tapered, with little ridges to latch onto, leaking and hot against your thighs. He can feel you keen under him when your folds glide over his knot. Made for him, he marvels, as you get impossibly wetter with each pass between your lovely thighs. A little gasp escapes you as your clit catches on the ridges, and Xavier's head swirls with the possibility of hearing more, buoyed with proof that you're just as eager, just as wanting despite it all.
Xavier growls, his arms a cage around your head, hands encircling your skull, thumbs under your chin, holding you in place as he ruts you into the ground. The ache that had been present before has dulled now but he's still inhumanly big, stretching you out with each push and pull. It feels right somehow, this fullness, this pain. But there's little room for thought, only the feeling of his coarse fur on top of you, the claws gripping your skull, your moans mixed with his snarls, the inescapable fullness within, all swirling in a potent miasma.
And it is thrilling.
You relax into his hold, and he howls with delight, accepting your body's surrender, licking at your neck with a broad, flat tongue before sucking your breast into his mouth, rolling your nipple between his teeth, thumbing over the other. He's using you like a toy to get off, unable stop himself from humping you into the ground, one hand gripping your entire body and driving you down onto his length as he pants in your ear. Every snap of his hips sends your nerves flying, adding to the tense coil within.
His knot protrudes from between your legs, swollen at the base of his cock, bigger than your fist.
"I can take it Xavier," you moan, arching your hips up. Will it fit? You're not sure. But you don't care. The two of you will always figure it out, together.
Suddenly, you feel his hands underneath your hips, yelping as Xavier maneuvers you into a standing position, cock still deep within you as he supports your body with a big hand around your waist and another underneath your shoulders. With a feral, flat look in his eye, Xavier starts to lower you onto his knot, drool dripping from his jaws as he pushes, urging your body to open even wider.
It's a slow process, every centimeter a victory as he alternates between fucking you, keeping you elevated and needy, and working your hole open to accept him.
You're a rag doll, completely at Xavier's mercy. The only thing keeping you off the ground right now are a werewolf's grip around your body and his cock. The object of your desires, using you. You can barely register the words coming out of your mouth, some halfway intelligent sounds, broken moans punched out of your lungs with each heavy snap.
He finally gets it halfway down, licking and laving at your face in an attempt to soothe the pain, whining before pulling you off again, raising you to his maw to lap at empty, stretched out hole. You're dazed, every nerve alight as he lines your pussy up with his cock again. His claws tighten around you, almost imperceptibly, and that's the only warning you get before he snarls, ramming your body down onto his knot, stretching you to your absolute limit. It slips in with a loud squelch and a ragged screamโ pain overriding pleasure, making your eyes water. You're so full you swear he's in your ribs.
You're not sure if it's the high from pleasure or pain but it feels right. It always does with him somehow.
He doesn't move right away. Instead, Xavier's eyes are glued to the center of where your bodies meet. Carefully, gingerly, he picks up your wrist, placing your hand at your distended lower belly.
Can you feel it? He wants to know if you can feel it.
"Yes," you moan, "you're right thereโyou're rightโ"
He grins wolfishly, punctuating your every word with a hard thrust.
"WaitโXavierโ" instantly, he stills, concern flickering through his eyes.
"C-can we get back on the floor? Iโ"
He tilts his head, confused.
"I want to feel you on top of me."
No longer held back by the possibility of you tearing, Xavier lowers you back onto his cloak, nuzzling your neck, patting your hair, giving you a short reprieve. You seem to have other ideas in mind though, because you're once again lifting your hips, urging him onward.
The press of your lips against him is his undoing.
His release finds him not in the throes of passion or from the way you're still impossibly tight and wet around him. It finds him as you gaze up at him with a dazed smile before reaching your arms around his neck, pulling him down by the fur into a facsimile of a kiss.
Xavier's entire body seizes up as his hips stutter, once, twice, knot ballooning as it finally locks inside you, arms trembling as his cock continues to pulse. You sigh, eyes rolling back once more at he grinds onto your clit, the coarse hair providing just enough simulation to your spent body for one final release. Carefully, he picks you up one more time, leaning back against the wall gently so as not to disturb the tie. You nuzzle onto his chest and he dimly hears the sound of wedding bells.
"It'll be a while before it goes down." he rasps.
"Oh good," you mumble, "I can enjoy this for a little longer."
"You can enjoy this forever," Xavier mutters, half-delirious, half-giddy as the enormity of what just transpired settles in. He touches his forehead to yours, wrapping his arms around you.
"I plan toโฆyou're not getting away from me that easilyโฆnot like before."
Xavier starts. What did you just say?
But you're already fast asleep.
notes: posting this before I lose my nerve because it's been languishing in my drafts for forever (hence the chopped ending)! tysm for reading <3 always appreciate comments and reblogs <3
