Absence is to love what wind is to fire.
It extinguishes the small.
It enkindles the great. –––– Low-activity sideblog for galeforged.
Risqué content warning.
Read the rules before following!
That’s right, it’s a URL change! This spicier, low-activity sideblog was originally made just for Forwin back when it was attached to macuilsung... buuuuut since I moved on to running a multimuse instead, I figure it was best to change things up here in turn to accommodate. For starters, that means going in with a fresh new handle!
The URL in question, paired with the title heading, makes: “Shoot twixt wind and water.” It’s a super dated euphemism for doing the do dating back to the 1600s, but hey, it keeps a kinda-sorta consistent theme going and all! also water means it’s wet ehehehe
Of note, I touched up the rules page a little bit, and be sure to take into account that these rules are to be considered in addition to those over on the main blog. I can’t stress this enough, but please read the rules first if you’re new here and we’re not all too familiar with one another already. Helps speeds things along, yanno?
And of course, that means this spicy little number has also gone multimuse! Like on the main blog, certain muses take priority over others. In addition to Forwin, we also have Kōtarō, Shigeru, Raphael, and Virgilia here! If we have ships ongoing for any of these five, then huzzah! That means they’re spice-friendly here.
“I think I could go again, if you wanted.” -Mercedes to Wyndell, ready for round two ;0
via Smut Starters & Symbols
If he wasn’t careful, he was certain he would fall asleep beside her in due time.
Wyndell had to catch his breath, hand to roaring heart while his chest rose and fell in tandem. His eyes, weary with fatigue, remained rooted to the ceiling despite no clear focus to his gaze. Goodness, he could feel the mattress cover turning wet with perspiration from his back! Did he ever sweat that much before?
Thankfully, he could remain lucid when Mercedes turned to drape herself over his own bare form. With no word and only an exhausted smile, her new husband pulled her in closer so she may rest right onto him, with lips planted to her forehead for good measure once she drew near. She certainly seemed pleased, judging from her blissful smile and content giggle.
Sothis, it never failed to make him feel warm and mushy deep down.
But she would surprise him with just how pleased she was, when after a few moments of comfortable silence, she noted she could go again. His wife’s comment proved amusing enough to draw a low chuckle from his throat, while his free hand came low to rest its palm on her stomach. If anything, her words certainly struck a chord, as he doubted he would remain flaccid for long with such encouragement.
“If I wanted?” Wyndell repeated, as if he were not already eager to worship Mercedes and make her see stars once more. Another series of slow, longing pecks around her face was evidence enough that, yes, he would like to try for another round. “Well... if only to make sure it worked the first time.
“I’m really looking forward to meeting our little one.”
[tenderly] - to tenderly make love to my muse -Mercedes and Wyndell b/c.... tbh I'm not sure how else they would do it, they're too tender with one another.
via Smut Starters & Symbols
Throughout his life, “home” had only ever been a temporary notion, to a point where he found himself struggling to realize what the word actually meant. The late Duke Gerth made his birthplace feel like a cage, and then he realized he couldn’t stay with Davina and Tristine’s troupe forever. He fell to Abyss, after accidentally cutting his Academy prospects criminally short. He wound up flung across the stars and survived wars worlds away from home, before returning to yet another in Fódlan. Time and again, he found himself forcibly displaced, hardly ever given a chance to lay down his roots and simply be allowed to live.
But now, he believed he understood what “home” meant.
“Home” meant the loving embrace of Mercedes von Martritz.
Oh, he understood her tragedy well as a fellow Crest-bearer, having endured similar hells himself, but hearing of her own at length made his heart break outright. How could Mercedes still be smiling after all she had been through, ever since he was but an unknowing child? How could so much still be demanded of and dictated for her, when life rarely afforded her the power to choose for herself? This wasn’t right, it was just abject cruelty.
So, he made a decision, one he will not soon regret.
He decided that he would become Wyndell von Gerth again, for her, in whatever form that may take in a Fódlan united under the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. No longer was he the timid little boy of Gerth she once knew in the distant past, or the anxious Abyssian bard living by the alias of “Forwin Tyrell” until much more recently. As Wyndell, he could grant her that power that should have been hers years ago.
Proof of that shared power now encircled their ring fingers, and in return for his devotion, he finally found “home.” Never will Wyndell ever dream of leaving it… especially not now, when home has his waist wrapped snug between her legs.
Airy gasps marked his every thrust and creak of bed beneath Mercedes, encouraging him to draw more out of her if only for the sake of hearing her, rather than that of his own pleasure. He delighted in feeling her whisper the odd “Yes~”, from the heat of her breath beating against his own to the softness of her lips pushing against his, as they kissed almost without cease. Goddess, her voice never failed to make him melt, and hearing such a holy woman want him this openly only made him sink into her further.
His wife was so soft, both in curves abound and the kindness of her heart. It wasn’t only her legs holding him tight, but her arms around his back too, almost desperate in keeping him close so he could stay right where he belonged. The hug was a gesture he long since reciprocated, leaving almost no room between the sweat-stained lovers, firm chest pushed down against ample breasts, lean abdomen against plush stomach.
Wyndell almost felt undeserving as her newlywed husband. To feel loved so strongly calmed his restless soul like nothing he’s felt before. Was he really allowed to not only have this peace, at long last, but indulge in it as well? Sure, he smiled, with half-lidded eyes hazed beneath the depths of lust and yearning, but with how full his heart felt, he feared he might shed a stray tear or two in due time.
However, she would not allow him to dwell in such melancholy. It was only when her hands came to rest on his face—one even slowly combing through his hair, fingertips grazing at his scalp—did he realize he actually slowed in pace, preoccupied as he was in his own thoughts. There was so much warmth and empathy to her smile, as if to say: “It’s all right, Wyndie,” that he realized he acted foolishly in second guessing his blessings now of all times.
Almost in apology, he ramped up the pace, its suddenness surprising a wide-eyed Mercedes and eliciting a sharper gasp from her than before. His forehead came to rest against her own. Little time passed before he returned to kissing her anew, a little forcefully than usual and in betrayal to his usually gentle persona, but his carnal and heartfelt want for her could not be any clearer; she was not the only one who burned so strongly for their spouse.
All he could think about was her sex and its warmth, almost suctioning his cock back in with every pull away from his hips. The symphony of sounds they made forever echoing in his ears, skin slapping against skin further compounded into memory by the rhythm of every breath she took. That they sat on the very precipice of starting a family on their terms, that she would soon be round with either little Lydia or—in memory of her late brother—Emile. That he loved her so much, that he could not feel any more fortunate in marrying her, that he was so thankful for her to be a part of his life.
It wasn’t simply chaos, but a storm with direction, all in the name of his affections for Mercedes herself. It made him shudder. It drove his instinct. It brought him closer towards knots coming undone at the base of his pelvis. His glans, as it pushed deeper into her snatch and rubbed against her walls, saw itself aimed squarely towards cervix.
There was only one way he could close that distance now.
“M-Mercedes… beloved,” Wyndell hushed, very obviously teetering on mind-numbing orgasm as he sought to ask her one more time. Even now, his thoughts turned to her first, giving the woman he loved voice so there would be no more room for doubt. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Please, please, touch me.” - also Corwin bc i'm Basic
@directtethering via Smut Starters & Symbols
There was something to be said about the marks of a good relationship between attendant and liege, servant and master, or—in this case—court musician and princess. For one, this was not the first occasion where Forwin readily bent an ear and paid heed to a request on Corrin’s part. Whether it was to brighten her day with song or provide counsel on whatever may be on her mind, he endeavoured to meet her every word with gusto.
However... there was also something to be said about a secret relationship the pair could not help but want to indulge themselves in. The loneliness they endured throughout their lives, paired with growing feelings of genuine love towards one another, made one hell of an addictive cocktail in lust, with shame becoming more and more of an afterthought to these erstwhile modest souls. As careful as they act before each other while out and about, neither could bring themselves to care about possibly being caught after they were finally alone, only the two of them, bare as can be to none but themselves.
“As you wish,” hushed oh so tenderly to exposed ear, was all the warning Corrin received before Forwin did exactly as she begged of him.
Thus the bard—supposed womanizer that he was in the eyes of her protective older brothers—devoted the entirety of his being to Her Highness. He continued to rear his hips and then buck them forth from behind her, a once comfortable rhythm now beginning to pick up in pace. As much as it pained him not to be able to see her fully, Forwin found no reason to complain while the curves of her ass cushioned his every thrust into her slit, almost inviting him to rail her a little harder, goading him to be a little rougher with her, trying to make her say even cuter things than ‘Please touch me’-!
Oh, and how he listened! Dextrous hands busied promptly themselves when she asked for more from him. One came around to place itself firm and low against Corrin’s stomach, giving his cock more leverage for it to piston into her pussy, with fingertips of index and middle both drawing agonizing circles onto her clit just within reach! As for the other? It groped eagerly yet mindfully at her breasts, teasing her back and forth between already sensitive nipples; grazes, encircling from areolae, and light pinches were all acts well in play here, like movements following one after the next as part of a lengthy orchestral epic. Whatever the case, it kept her back pushed against his chest.
Ah, and his lips! Lonely as they were in yearning to meet with hers, no affection was lost as they met shoulder, neck, both lobe and pointed tip of her ear, and even the back of her head beneath her messied abundance of hair. Each longing kiss were sincere little “I love you”s of their own, intending to either give her a tether in focusing on reality or drive her further over the edge. Although, a forceful kiss or two to her neck may leave a bruise, but he was in no position to think rationally in his actions, not with carnal instinct at the helm.
“You’re so pretty like this.” - drops an ask for HaVi and runs
@directtethering via Smut Starters & Symbols
"Don't tease me."
Her words were curt, but not out of Virgilia’s usual tones of sterile brevity. No, this time, they came off as more self-conscious, than anything else, more than she was ever accustomed to from herself. After all, it was the first time she found herself fully exposed before someone else, let alone finding herself under someone like this, and while she was all for braving the unknown and making new discoveries... she never expected a partner.
But here from the depths of Abyss, she found one in Hapi. Vi never would have hypothesized it herself, or imagine it could reach such a conclusion with her in the redhead’s bed. Though she couldn’t help but shiver with bare skin exposed to the coolness of the air, her own nerves also played a factor. Case in point, one arm lay flat across her own breasts while the other reached down across a stouter stomach to conceal her slit. She couldn’t even look Hapi in the eyes!
She wasn’t pretty like Constance, born and raised in high society and knwoing all about being a proper lady. She wasn’t smooth like Yuri, able to think three steps ahead for some grander play to be made. She wasn’t strong like Balthus, who could fell great beasts with mighty blows one after the next. She wasn’t confident like Forwin, who came back from lands unknown more self-assured than she could recall.
She was just Vi. Clinical to a fault and not ladylike at all. Thinking only in the present for the sake of her research. Needing to resort to brews and poisoned weaponry to measure up to enemies. Confident only with facts to build her up, and ready to fall apart when challenged without. She’s not pretty. She certainly doesn’t feel pretty. To hear Hapi call her that made her wonder if this was her way at getting petty little vengeance for how Vi treated her years back.
Yet, she found herself gently guided back to look up to Hapi, what with the mage’s hand resting on her cheek. No, that grief in her eyes from that incident she caused was long gone. Was it? She couldn’t really tell.
Either way, Virgilia finally relented, shuddering a little as she whispered: “...be slow with me. Please.”
Constance should hate him. She wanted nothing more than to tell him where to go, but she wouldn’t have meant it. The more she wanted to push him away, the more she also wanted to pull him closer. Her heart and her head hurt. She could barely make sense of her own feelings, jumbled and messy. For the longest time, she had left them ignored and tangled, but she could no longer do that. With Forwin looking at her like that, she couldn’t.
She missed who they were. She missed being a silly girl with a silly crush all those years ago, who used those experiments, by the end, to get him to keep coming to her. They weren’t those people anymore. They coyld never be like that again, and there was no spell to fix them. If there was, she would have tried.
They couldn’t go back, but they could move forward, whatever that meant to the both of them.
In truth, Constance wasn’t sure what she wanted now. She knew she wanted to stay mad. She also knew she wanted Forwin back in her life. Those two thoughts could not coexist: one had to leave. She had never been indecisive before, but there was a first for everything. She was so mad, so hurt, that Constance could cry. He looked like he wasn’t far off crying, too. They missed each other. Constance wasn’t stupid enough to believe otherwise.
Instead of discussing anything, Forwin took the initiative to show, instead of tell. His lips crashed against hers, and though it only lasted for a moment, it felt like a lot longer.
And then it was over. Forwin pulled away with all the fright of a baby deer.
Constance could have slapped him for that, and the thought did enter her mind. Her wide eyes stared up at him, but for the first time in her life, she was at a loss for words. What she did know, however, is that she wanted to do that again. She needed to do that again.
Before Forwin could finish his pathetic apology that he in no way meant, Constance pulled him forward for another kiss. The kiss scratched an itch deep inside of her, sparked up a match that Constance had spent years trying to ignore. Of course her feelings had not changed: she had wanted to kiss him for so long. The teenage girl inside of her did cartwheels with glee, but the adult woman she was now wasn’t satisfied yet.
“If you are truly sorry,” she mumbled between kisses, “then you must show me how sorry you are.”
Her actions were far from noble. Constance usually held her head high, but right now, she wanted to keep herself low in the gutter, with the son of the man who had sent her there. It felt fitting.
Constance never let him finish the world’s shortest-lived apology. Before Forwin could make some excuse or another for the obvious of his own selfishness, action quieted him when she ignored his words altogether and pulled him in for another kiss. And another. And another. It was almost as if she was afraid he would disappear on her yet again, should she accidentally let him slip from her grasp.
Well, he had no intention to leave now, not when war threatened to tear his homeland asunder, and especially not when she needed him by her side once more. Forwin understood that, if he was to show just how sorry he was... then Houses Gerth and Nuvelle would have to reconcile right here and now. For every lie he told to her as Forwin, and for every burden he shouldered as Wyndell, he swore in silence he would redeem himself to her. He wanted to. No, he had to!
“With everything I owe you and more, Constance.”
No longer feeling the need to stay put with his back flat against brick, it was his turn to pull at the noblewoman now. The beauty in her keeping eyes closed made surprising her all the easier, with naught but the simple act of encircling her waist with his arms and pushing their bodies all the closer together. Forwin already abandoned his gloves, all so that his hands could feel at her more and mark himself all the more present to her.
Had they still been teenagers, he could imagine himself delighting in smooching Constance von Nuvelle herself in secret, all the way by some faraway storage room away from Abyss proper. As an adult man, however... no, he knew this wasn’t enough. Sure, holding her close in a proper embrace made returning her kisses all the easier... but they were also made all the more feverish, like a kettle of water only now realizing it was boiling over the fire, metal starting to burn and water bubbling as it began to steam. That same warmth flooded his chest now, and surely reached his own face already.
Rationally thinking, he knew he should rejoin the others. Sooner or later, they will wonder where the pair of ex-nobles wandered off to.
But that would mean kissing Constance would end.
Forwin didn’t want it to end. Not yet. Not until he’d had his fill.
[ SENSUAL ] ― our muses have slow , gentle sex. (for the corwin agenda-)
“One thing led to another” will quite probably be the worst possible introduction for an excuse to explain how they had reached this point, likely to double as his infamous last words. Yes, as Forwin felt so certain that he ought to start writing his last will and testament sooner rather than later, for he fears his end may come not from enemy hands on the battlefield, but from those of some very protective but well-meaning siblings (plus retainers).
He promised he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. The court musician had every intention to live up to that oath he had sworn, albeit last from the opposite end of a blade weighed against his own life. However, one often meets destiny on the road taken to avoid it, be they hoping to prevent exactly this turn of events from happening, or he who sought to keep some professional distance between them both at his own peril.
It also didn’t help that Corrin and Forwin not only pined strongly for one another in quiet until now, but that both also saw themselves in each other. They took their partner seriously for the individuals they were, rather than letting pesky things like titles, professions, and stations obfuscate what they knew was so much more important to themselves, deep down...
...which was why they finally consummated those feelings of loneliness and yearning in secret, away from prying eyes and ears. Clothes long sat haphazardly thrown about, along the floor and on each side of the bed, with only a blanket keeping them modest before any who would enter. It was a miracle that Corrin’s stifled cries from earlier did not draw anyone in! After all, passersby would not be so conveniently deafened, like the couple was by the sound of their own hearts beating in their ears.
Up until this point, Forwin endeavoured to lead her, for both of their sakes. Inexperienced as he was in such intimate affairs, he thankfully had the leg up when it came to knowledge. One had to spend the tedium of Abyss somehow, and thankfully, the Shadow Library proved very informative in learning how to fully please and show affection to one’s own partner, well beyond the boundaries of simple intercourse alone just to conceive an heir.
It certainly seemed to pay off so far; such was the case when Forwin’s earlier uncertainty in tasting pussy for the first time melted away, almost as soon as he quickly developed a taste for Corrin’s own. Savouring her sweetness outright with his tongue, feeling her writhe against his lip under his ministrations, sneaking glances to watch her face light up with pleasures never before experienced, listening to her try her hardest not to sing for him…! He knew he loved her already, but seeing her like this—and because of his actions, no less!—only made him fall for his liege all the harder.
She was too beautiful for words. He feared that any attempt to express as much in song would forever fail to do her justice! Thus, from within the haze of adoration-fuelled lust fogging his senses, he found himself left with one last recourse, one remaining alternative, one final forbidden threshold they both knew they should not ever dare cross.
So cross it, they did.
With that, the forlorn young man who felt he had nothing left to lose finally found a reason to continue living. Fulfilment flooded his soul, and through their embrace, he almost forgot what it was like to have lived without the touch of another loving person.
It was never once forced on her. He ensured no words spoken would come across as honeyed with villainous motives or pitiable to the point of making her feel sorry through the night, and that above else, she hadn’t felt pressured into anything thus far. Only express permission and consent on her part, as well as forewarning for every action on his own, carried them here. Above all else, he promised to pull out to lower risk of an accident, given how spur of the moment everything tonight turned out to be.
Under the covers did the pair lay side by side, holding one another in an embrace far more tender and sensual than either ever knew. A whimper escaped from Corrin’s parting lips, before escalating into sharper gasps with her red eyes grown all the wider the deeper Forwin’s glans ventured within welcoming wet warmth. Even his breath turned laboured from these brand new sensations, as she tightened, spread, and adjusted to accommodate cock for the first time.
He would give Her Highness (and himself) a few moments to get used to the feeling. Still, he took little time to ground her back to reality, with lips tenderly pressed to her forehead and hand brushing silver hair behind her pointed ear. Whatever happens, he is here for her. “I’ll take this slow. Okay?” he asked, without so much as a nervous stammer. “If anything feels strange, or if it’s ever too much… let me know at any time if I should stop, and I will.”
“Gentle thrusts” became the name of the game from here on, with slow, rhythmic rolls of his hips pushing some amount of his dick into her slit before pulling out, rinse and repeat without speeding up to startle her. Forwin lacked total control in this position, and could not insert himself fully once sex began, but that was fine to him so long as Corrin was comfortable. He wanted her first—their first, but still—to be as special and fun for her as he could make it.
And she asked him to continue.
“Saints above, you feel incredible…” he hushed through a hazy expression to match her own, lost in her eyes with a subdued smile to his lips before they met hers. Kisses were how they first started blurring the lines between princess and servant, so revisiting it now only served to heighten their affections all the more! Never mind that they were also stark naked with hardly any shame and holding one another tight, with her soft breasts and perked nipples pushed up against the firmness of his own chest!
It was not long before the bard found himself wanting to draw more melodies from his lady, be they whimpers, gasps, moans, mewls, or whatever! True, he knew that too much sound proved risky and could lead to their tryst’s untimely discovery, but Corrin proved to be so fucking cute when she tried to stay quiet before. How could he resist her?
Forwin wanted to draw out so many more sides to her, sides only he would get to see. With time, he hoped he will. For now, though? There was no rush.
“I love you, Corrin. Deeply, and truly,” he whispered, trailing kisses about her neck, cheek, and ear all the while. There would be no end to his expressing as much through body and speech, for they knew what it was like to have lived without it. “I’ll make sure you never have to doubt that, ever.”
Constance held onto her anger with a grip that was tighter than the one on the front of his shirt. But that other feeling put its hand on her shoulder and whispered for her to stop when she looked up into his eyes. No. She could not allow herself to be taken in by that look in his eyes, or how they watered at the sight of her.
What, exactly, did he have to feel sad about? Whatever happened between them was his fault. He had a year to tell her, and he didn’t. He was s coward, an asshole, and whatever other insult she could throw at him.
And yet.
When he asked that question, something inside of her broke. It wasn’t a dam, it was a screen door that was barely hiding away all of her feelings. Her grip on his clothes loosened, and the anger felt much smaller in the palm of her hand. Because in truth, she didn’t hate him. She never did. She hated what he represented: House Gerth, and the fall of House Nuvelle. It was convenient to be mad at him, because he was right there to be mad at.
Though now, she was angry at him for a whole new reason: Forwin made her realise what was always there. Constance hated him for it.
“The nerve you have to even ask that,” she hissed. It was as if he already knew the answer, but there was no way he could. She could have lied and told him she wished he stayed in Nohr or Hoshido or Valencia or whatever made-up location he found himself in. Constance could never lie, however. Even to herself, she could not lie, not for long.
“No. I would not have been happier had you stayed gone.” And it wasn’t because she wanted to yell at him some more, though that was part of it. She wanted to see him again, for reasons she had assumed were anger. She was wrong. She wouldn’t tell him that she missed him, that she hoped she would see him again, because he didn’t need to know. It wasn’t a lie, so long as he didn’t ask.
“You owe me a great deal. You owe me my time back, you owe me an explanation, and-” You owe me my heart back. The anger still burned in embers at the centre of her chest. She shoved him again for good measure, biting back emotion.
She wouldn’t?
Though the grip on his shirt loosened, he could not allow himself to relax or pull away just yet. With hindsight, the absconded lord reasoned his question was an unfair one, but he asked only because he felt certain that she would have said yes. She had every right to hate him, painful as it was to accept, and he only needed to hear it from her to know they were truly done.
After all, his father obeyed the Empire and did not a finger to help her over the Insurrection, and Forwin lied to her even though their families were once close. He could have been forthright with her about who he was from the start, but he chose to lie throughout the time he knew her, to Constance and to everyone else. Men of Gerth, both self-preserving cowards who’ve stolen her peace away—like father, like son. It didn’t matter that he chose to be different and tell the truth after the fact. The damage was already done.
Yet, to his surprise, she just said she wouldn’t have been happy. If anything, she... sounded even more hurt for being asked such a thing in the first place.
“Constance?” was all Forwin could bring himself to mutter in turn, with disbelief writ plain on his face. Though tears threatened still to run down, his spirits slowly lifted themselves from years spent wallowing in despair over her, and the death of a friendship he believed unsalvageable... until now! He remained stupefied, but at last he came to grips with the fact it wasn’t too late to do right by her.
Another shove back onto the wall, and with a surprising amount of strength from the daughter of Nuvelle, did little to quell the overwhelming torrent of feelings swirling in his mind. The son of Gerth could barely ground his thoughts and scarcely make sense of them, though a few thoughts managed to win out in that conscious vortex.
He loved her.
He owed her so much.
He wished to apologize for hurting her feelings.
He craved forgiveness.
He dared not dream to leave her side again.
He wanted to hold her.
He missed how they used to be.
More and more did thoughts like these ring out in his head, likely a wildly disorganized orchestra filled with amateurs who hardly knew how to play their instruments aside from loudly. It was simply noise! Noise he all agreed with, to be sure, but because each voice sought to drown out the others, he did not know where to begin with expressing these emotions to her. It was just all so confusing, too much!
At a complete loss for words, only compulsion remained to guide him now... and so Forwin felt compelled to lean forward and press his lips hard onto Constance’s own. Hardly lucid in mind, kissing her was all he could think to do, and though it was brief—his head pulling back with shock towards himself and fear for her reaction, afraid he might have only made things worse—it was no less the only means he could express how he felt.
@directtethering said via (insert months-old meme prompt I’m too lazy to pull it up lmao):
[ pin ] your muse pinning mine down. ;; from Hapi hehehe
...
25th of the Ethereal Moon, 1180
“Wait… No, it’s precisely because tonight’s the night of the stupid ball!” His smile only grew wider when that realization struck, and he turned to his fellow wolf excitedly. “Think about it, Hapi! Most of Garreg Mach will be congregating in the Reception Hall, right? All of the students and faculty, plus a chunk of the Knights of Seiros in one place! We’d just need to avoid lightened patrols on the grounds and find us a good spot!”
And it was the dumbest thing Hapi agreed to in her life, up to that point.
Call him stubborn when his idea of sneaking out at all was turned down by her at the start, but Forwin couldn’t help his enthusiasm when these pieces just started falling into place in his head. The more he thought about this plan, the more the plan felt feasible, and the more it felt feasible, the more he felt committed to see this through.
He wouldn’t say this came from pity, necessarily. After all, with his own time as an Officers Academy student cut short like it was, he didn’t get to experience the ball for himself either, and part of him did at least want to be a part of the festivities on the surface, even if not from within the reception hall itself. But to hear Hapi sell herself short like she’s some “consolation prize”, as though her condition made her any less wanted by others... it lit something inside Forwin.
Sure, he promised that they would turn right back to Abyss if things seemed impossible, but that gave him just enough wiggle room to keep pushing on until they would reach the Goddess Tower. He was nothing if not determined to make this plan work for his friend.
Because Hapi wanted to look at the stars.
...
29th of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1186
Come the dawn, the united forces of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus would descend on Enbarr and put an end to this drawn out war at long last. Whatever happens—whether the professor and King Dimitri’s campaign wins out with the Archbishop saved, or Emperor Edelgard finally eliminates her encroaching opposition and can assert her rule across Fódlan unopposed—the next day would finally mark the long battle’s end.
It did not matter how confident anyone on either side might feel in their odds of victory, let alone survival. There was no telling who would walk away in the end and how, alive and relatively unscathed at best or among the dead at worst.
So with a decisive battle ahead, nostalgia brought the pair back to the Goddess Tower, but it was not to gaze up at a starlit canvas in the night sky. Neither was it to take hold of one another so that they may dance with each other, picking up on whatever song the band might have played that night all those years ago.
No, what they were doing together tonight instead would... probably warrant issuing an apology to the entire Church of Seiros. Not that the bard could bring himself to care about something so trivial as offending the church now of all times, since if they were about to die tomorrow, then it was better to offend Garreg Mach than to leave anything left unsaid.
The woman from Timotheos ultimately trapped the former lord under her, hips bucking onto his own as she rode his cock to kingdom come while he made to match her pace. Forwin could only look up to Hapi with a lustful haze blearing his view, with nothing but the redhead on his mind and her name repeated on his lips. Part of him felt certain that traditional erotica would see to their roles being reversed, with him towering over her and pounding away desperately into her warmth instead, but he could hardly manage a complaint. Pleasure was still pleasure, even if she was the one forcing his wrists down above his head and onto stone, and Goddess above, the view from below? It only made him fall for her further.
That he persistently stayed near the monster girl very few would dare approach, and continued seeing to her happiness or easing her burdens to whatever lengths he must pursue, he knew long ago what it was. That one something other than pity, a still lucid feeling ringing clear in his mind amid the enrapturing heat building over his body.
It was love. He loved her so much that it would destroy him if she fell in battle tomorrow, leaving him with no worthwhile future to look forward to in Fódlan. He loved her so greatly that his inability to touch her—all while she kept his wrists pinned down— could kill him now, so he committed to thrusting up into her pussy with as much vigour as he could manage from underneath her. He watched as she bit on her lip in order to keep any loose breath from summoning beasts at the most inopportune time, all because of how he was making her feel in turn, so he waited for his chance when her head came low enough.
Forwin almost whimpered when their lips finally met again, eager and wanting to take in her withheld sighs for himself, as he poured all of his admiration for her into the kiss. He could feel her resting onto his bare chest with her own pushing down onto him, and at last he can feel himself getting close. With his head swimming while feeling the skin of her breasts and the comfort of her stomach, her hips grinding fast and her walls coiling around his pulsating dick, the knots at the base of his toned belly were ready to come undone and give way as he felt his own legs tighten. Hapi should know he was about to cum into her any moment.
But once their mouths parted, rather than warn her for good measure, all he could say with a softened smile was: “If we survive Enbarr... l-let’s get married... okay, Hapi?”
It may be unfair to bring that up now of all times, but that was Forwin’s deepest and most earnest wish.
👔 // grab my muse by the collar & pull them closer, with Coco! 👀 idk i feel like their awkwardness and frustration towards each other could lead to this-
[ sexual aggression meme ; accepting ]
Constance hated Forwin.
Or, that was what she told herself. In truth, her feelings were more complicated than that. Their friendship before the bombshell, before the war, it was something special. When that crashed into their past, like a stormy wave crashing against a cliff, it tore down chunks of the cliff with it. It changed everything.
There was still something there, something that the wave could not completely sweep away. Constance had been pretending it wasn’t there, and she would keep pretending it wasn’t there for as long as she must.
Yet every time she saw him, the anger built back up again, over and over, until it reached a boiling point.
She grabbed him by the collar and pushed him up against one of the walls of Abyss. She knew her behaviour was unladylike, but really, it was his family’s fault that she wasn’t a lady by name anymore. It was Forwin’s fault for not telling her anything. Yet it wasn’t only anger that fueled her actions. It was something else, something she wasn’t ready to admit even to herself yet.
“You are utterly reprehensible,” she sneered. Her anger swirled with that other feeling, forming a confusing miasma of emotion. Her mind went blank for a moment when she looked up at him. She wanted to be closer to him, but whether that was to attack him with her fan or something else, she couldn’t decide.
At least, that was what he tried to accomplish since his return. However, he could never fully commit to the act, stuck reminiscing like he was on simpler days before he finally stepped out from the shadows of his past. Even now, he strongly felt that coming forward as Wyndell was the right thing to do, but there was no taking back the damage it caused.
Constance no longer called on him to work as her eager guinea pig, seeming to prefer self-sufficiency for her experiments or calling on anyone but him should she ever need one. She hadn’t once addressed him directly without—albeit righteous, he felt—anger, and it only made sitting as one with the Wolves more awkward than anything else. So desperately did Forwin want to do right by her, or at least find some way to properly atone, but the question is how?
There was no way to seamlessly say “Sorry that my family didn’t save yours when they should have, and I decided to lie about myself the whole time!” without sounding ham-fisted at best. Any attempt to raise his voice before her would die out of shame as soon as it came, just as it did years ago! Some bard he turned out to be, losing speech and courage so easily...
Reprehensible, even. That was the word she used when she surprised her fellow former noble and suddenly forced him onto the walls of the catacombs. A pained grunt escaped his throat when the back of his head met brick, stunning him for just a moment before Constance herself stared him down with what he could only assume was disgust and contempt. It only pained him further, given how differently he felt whenever he looked in her direction... at least when guilt wasn’t in the picture.
That other feeling was all the more present now as she confronted him at last, and like a dagger sinking into his chest, his growing awareness of that unspoken thing hurt. Looking at a beautifully furious Constance and being so close to her like this only hurt.
“Reprehensible, wretched, deceitful, cowardly... I know.” There was no venom spat or objection raised when Forwin yielded with a slow sigh, a wavering smile, and eyes watering. This was for the best, wasn’t it? All he’s ever done was cause her grief as a walking reminder of her darkest days, and with hatred in her eyes, it appeared as though she would finally write him off for good. It was five years too late already, so what good was there in saying sorry now?
“Would you have been happier... if I had stayed gone-?”
@armatization said via send 👀 for my muse to walk in on your muse undressing (add + for reverse) (open!):
👀 from Hapi hehehehe
Hopefully he made it back just in time. The last he saw of the sky aboveground, orange already began to cool into star-studded darkness, and knowing Hapi... she often drifts off well before the moon would hang high in the heavens. At least between campaigns, she took time to rest like she used to five years ago—up at dawn, asleep at dusk—so with darkness creeping over the monastery, Forwin took off through the catacombs as fast as he could, sugary loot in hand!
The bard did not anticipate that his teatime with the Professor would have lasted as long as it did, let alone their conversation getting so involved to the point they hardly touched the snacks! But hey, at least it made for plenty of leftovers for Hapi to snack on... provided she hadn’t given in to her sleep cycle yet. It was better than letting them go to waste, and to see her perk up over treats never failed to delight the musician. Just the bright spot he needed while this dreary war dragged on...
Having reached the women’s quarters for the Ashen Wolves, Forwin found what appeared to be candlelight flickering from the bottom of the doorframe – perfect! Hapi was still awake! ...unless she fell asleep with the light still on. It wouldn’t be the first time she crashed, so he hoped that sigh of relief he let out wasn’t about to be wasted.
What a shame that, in his own impatience and fatigue, the lutist forgot one basic tenet of common sense: knock before you enter.
“Hapi, are you still awake?”
Without thinking ahead to spare them both the embarrassment, he turned the latch, pushed open the door, and hadn’t even taken two steps into the room before he froze, for what did he happen to ogle? His first, in-person view of a woman’s bare breasts.
“I brought you some...!”
All the slack-jawed songster could do as he fell silent was stand stunned at the entrance, all in a poor attempt at processing whether this unforgettable sight was simply an erotic dream made real. This wouldn’t be the first time the monster summoner came to mind during fantasies—far from it in fact, not that he told another living soul—yet the real thing easily trumped any mental construct his guesswork could concoct! Hell, one could argue little was even left for his imagination at this point.
“...s......snacks.........”
In mere seconds, Forwin will realize and apologize for this blunder as entirely his fault, having walked in on a mostly naked Hapi in the middle of seeking out her pyjamas. In the heat of the moment, however? There was no helping his growing want for her as he took in every ample curve and every inch of tan-coloured skin he could help himself to! After all, he might not get another chance to admire her fully like this. He always felt she was beautiful, and the Hapi he returned to after five years was a greater stunner than he remembered her being, but with that form-fitting green garb of hers haphazardly tossed aside on the dresser...
Goddess above, are you sure you didn’t craft this woman yourself?
As warm his cheeks got and stifling his clothes felt around the waist, it took hungry blues to gaze into shocked reds before his eyes finally widened with self-conscious fright! Right. Shit! He only came to drop off food, not to find her like this! This is BAD!
"Hapi I-I am so sorry, I SWEAR this was an honest mistake-!!!”
He could tease all he liked, but he wanted this too. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have held her like this, so close to him. Hilda’s breath hitched. This was exactly what she needed. Luckily, they were on the same page, here.
“Maybe,” she said. Hilda looked up at him. Was he always so tall, or was she only just noticing now? Not that she minded, but it meant just a little more effort to kiss him. From this close, he was kind of cute, in a kind of way she would never normally call cute. Maybe that was her lust talking. Maybe it was something else. She didn’t dwell on it for too long.
“Maybe you should be a little more eager,” she teased. Then again, if he was a virgin like Hilda feared, he might not have the confidence. That was fine, too - she was eager enough for both of them.
Hilda pulled him down by the front of his clothes, and pushed herself upwards to press her lips to his. His lips were softer than she imagined. One arm stayed around his shoulders to keep herself steady, while the other began to explore his chest through his clothes.
In a way, Forwin was like a present that she was dying to open.
Content, he looked to her just as he felt her shift her head against his chest, just so that she may do the same. He never really paid mind to such a thing before, but now that they were about to spend the night together... Hilda was shorter than he realized. And sure, he always thought her easy on the eyes, even way back when, but seeing the coquette’s smile this close?
Something gnawing in the back of Forwin’s mind told him he could quickly get used to a sight like this. Distracted as he was admiring her face alone, his gaze fell to her lips as he watched them flirt with him from below. Her words only just registered by the time he felt fists ball up fabric at his chest, and next thing he realized, she made the first move in pulling him to her level for a kiss!
His eyes shot open in surprise, caught off-guard like he was, but fluttered shut within seconds so he can lose himself all the better in rising pleasure. Lithe fingers pushing at his chest, rare perfume invigorating him with its scent, and soft lips pressing against his own... despite the lull his mind took to enjoy these sensations, they nevertheless provoked a slumbering giant, for Hilda made one grave mistake in leading him to her bedroom.
Forwin is not the total wallflower she remembers from five years ago.
He reciprocated her closeness, but he refused to remain passive about it. Simply leaning down to meet her was not enough, he found, craving more of Hilda against him so soon. Instead, as he knelt down a little to meet her height, arms came up below her waist so that he could hoist her up off the floorboard! Now it was his turn to kiss up to her with renewed vigor, all while letting gravity push her body—bosom especially—closer against his own.
She wanted him to be a little more eager? She asked, thus he will endeavour to see her receive and then some.
“Want me take you to bed right away, then?” he teased in turn once their lips parted.
Please, Goddess, tell her Forwin had some idea of what he was doing. If not, she would have to teach him. That could be fun in its own way, come to think of it.
His hand slipped into hers, and she led the way back to her room. She glanced around, making sure no one saw them. She didn’t care, not really; plenty of people were sneaking off to fuck in the middle of this mess. Still, there was a tinge of embarrassment. Not enough to stop her. Hilda squeezed Forwin’s hand.
They sneaked up the steps to her room. Thankfully, the room on one side was vacant, and the room on the other side was too far away to overhear anything. If Marianne did hear anything, she never let on. Poor girl. Hilda pulled Forwin into her room, and closed the door behind them. She slid the lock shut, then grinned mischievously at him.
If this was a new ‘normal’, then at least this part wasn’t so bad.
She pulled him in by the front of his clothes, her body already so desperate for some kind of closeness. Sex offered a closeness, an intimacy that no other activity could. Perhaps Hilda could show Forwin exactly what she meant when she said that. It was nice to focus on pleasure rather than pain.
For a moment, walking down the hallway of the dormitory felt a little nostalgic. With Hilda’s tugging at his hand guiding him along, he took to looking back fondly on memories from several years ago in the meantime, back to when he was an academy student himself. Simpler times, those were... though he did not recall visiting the noble students’ dorms often in those days.
What he did remember, however, was that he never visited one of the girls’ rooms at that, so tonight made for a first. If only Teenage Forwin could see him now...
...ah well, he got his chance to eventually, didn’t he?
He did not get long to take in the sights of Hilda’s bedroom, having only just enough time to remove his lute from his body, setting it down by her table and resting his hat over its neck. The sound of the door being locked caught his attention, bringing him to look towards his evening partner in time to catch a devious glimmer on her face, one he almost made to match with his own before she grabbed him by his clothing!
“Eager?” he asked, but not without a hint of mockery in its teasing. She felt warm, pulled up against him like this... and from one arm coming up to comfortably coil itself around her hips, he knew he wanted more of it. His other hand already found its way to the back of her head from under her tied up hair, cradling it in his palm to deepen the embrace.
Oh, she knew what kind of mood Forwin was in by his kisses. He wasn’t exactly subtle, and, well, they weren’t exactly dressed. Normally, Hapi would have shrugged him off and gone to sleep on him regardless: but not today. There was a bit of a thrill about fooling around in public, even if there was no one around them. It was public enough.
“Winnie,” she said, amused. Sure, he could be bold, but she didn’t expect this from him. Alright, if he wanted to do this, then Hapi was more than happy to oblige.
She shifted in the water, until she could place herself on his lap, knees on either side of his legs. Her chest was still barely in the water, but only just. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling at him.
“I get the feeling you want to ruin the water with me.” Her smile only grew. She leaned into his ear. “I don’t think we’re gonna get any unwanted visitors.” Hapi kissed his ear, before nipping at his ear lobe.
The water was so nice, it’d be a shame to waste an opportunity like this.
Her pet name for him, calling out to him with affection, almost failed to coax her companion out of the trance he wound up putting himself under. All it took on his part was one appreciative kiss to her head after another, and quickly, it felt like no amount seemed enough to express just how desperately he desired her.
It wasn’t until Hapi moved from his side did Forwin slowly blink back into present surroundings, only to watch her under his half-lidded gaze as she sat comfortably on his thighs. If she thought he still held back any further attempt of subtlety before, that notion ought to have vanished by now with his arms wrapping themselves around her waist to pull her in close. By now, she could surely feel how unsubtle he felt below his waist, eagerly pushing up against her stomach.
Sothis above, the warmth of her body pushing up against his own, her scent, her feel, the sound of her voice closer and lower than ever... It made for a delightful cocktail of both unimaginable comfort and growing hunger, serving only to intoxicate his senses further.
“What tipped you off?” Forwin teased, agreeing all too heartily to the idea with a mischievous smirk. The ex-noble could not even care to come up with some half-baked mental apology to the hot spring the pair was about to sully—just like they desecrated the Goddess Tower the eve of their march to Enbarr—by the time the redhead started teasing at his ear, rendering his breath to catch itself in his throat before slowing into a pleased sigh of his own.
No, rutting her out here in the hot spring, no better than wild game under the starlit night sky, proved too great a burning need to put off any longer.
Allowing his hands to roam up from the small of her back and down from her shoulders on a slow, tantalizing loop, he returned her gesture with kisses returned to her neck this time. They started light enough, but more and more pressure would be put into his lips before long. He knew it was only a matter of moments before any remaining inclination of holding himself back would be thrown out like trash.
But between his pecks, he was rational enough to still murmur “I love you, Hapi...” loud enough for her to hear, albeit right up against her skin all the while.
@directtethering said via Send me ಠ_ಠ to know an inappropriate thought my muse has had about yours (open!):
ಠ_ಠ - hehehe for Coco
There was little Forwin von Nuvelle loved more than to see his wife in her element. Whether it’s commanding everyone’s attention merely from walking into the room, bending the laws of nature to her whim with mastery anyone can only envy, or hearing her laugh euphorically upon making a breakthrough in the world of witchcraft, he loved Constance to the point of reverence, and he never shied from making it known to her.
Not from his speech, singsong often accompanying his sleep-addled voice first thing upon waking at night together. Not from his willingness to volunteer as a test subject for her new spells, faith unwavering that they would either pan out at best or be undone at worst. Certainly not from bed, treating her with veneration through lips to goosebumped skin, trained fingers coaxing all manner of voices from her body like an instrument, or loaded tributes paid to her womb to someday welcome the next scion of their House.
As of late, it was through her magical experiments where Forwin would let his mind wander on... potential applicable uses. For example? When her latest efforts bore fruit! His ankle found itself tethered to the leg of a chair by a length of rope made of light, and Forwin took a moment to drag the seat around with a few steps off the side. A simpler spell compared to Constance’s usual output, sure, but hearing her clap her hands rapidly in giddiness at its success made it just as worthwhile as any other new magic. After all, even the simpler spells can later be used as building blocks for more complex works!
As for her husband’s thoughts? It’s a rope made of light... that doesn’t chafe bare skin like the real thing would. There’s some good elasticity to the pull that suggests it wouldn’t tear one’s limbs off if strained. Oh yes, he certainly had ideas, and just thinking of them to himself already got his heart racing.
And keeping those ideas to himself just wouldn’t do.
“...you know, if you tie me up to the bed by my wrists and ankles as restraint with this, you could do almost anything you wanted with me.”
“I don’t think I had a say in the detour,” she said, but truthfully, she didn’t mind. Forwin seemed so excited by the prospect of hot springs that there was no way Hapi could say no. Besides, it was comfortable enough that she could fall asleep in here, and in a way, it was worth the walk. Next time they came up here, he was going to carry her.
Huh. A next time. The thought had never occurred to her before, but they were really in it for the long haul. Even though they had never said it before; they never needed to.
She laced his fingers between his, leaning her head against Forwin’s shoulder. This was what happiness felt like: true happiness. That contentment of being with the man she loved, no matter where life took them. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this happy, or if she had ever felt like this before. She wasn’t sure. She let her eyes slide shut, relaxed. She could have died then and there, and Hapi wouldn’t have been too mad about it.
“I said I would. You know I always wanted to travel. Why not take someone with me?” Someone like a partner, who would stick with her. Oh, she was getting soft and sappy, but so was he. She smiled to herself. “It’s been fun. So, thanks, Winnie. I’m glad I’ve got you on my side.” She had no idea where she would be without him.
Maybe Abyss wasn’t so bad after all, if it meant they could’ve met.
Just like that, he found himself melting against Hapi with his head against her own, almost as easily as knots in his back melted into the spring. Forwin felt his spirit ease to depths rarely felt throughout the exhausting war effort, but felt they were even then all the same, in times spent together with the woman sitting by his side this night.
The one who made enduring it all possible, and surviving it worthwhile. Despite life’s missteps, from his own mistakes and elements beyond his control, it all led him back to Hapi in the end. The bard was relieved he at least got that part right.
Once lidded sights slowly opened after a moment’s rest to find her almost dozing off on his shoulder. More often than not, Winnie would catch himself staring at his lady love, mesmerized as a thief would upon the beauty of a priceless ruby he stole away from an ancient crypt... and, perhaps, that wasn’t too far from the truth.
And, as a thief would treasure his catch... he can’t help but do the same.
Whether she was paying attention to him or not hardly deterred Forwin from closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her mess of red hair, letting them linger for a beat before pulling them back. If she wasn’t aware of him then, she had to be by now. If not, then that only encouraged him to sneak another quick kiss to the side of her head.
And another yearning peck, for good measure...
And another, compelled to leave one to her cheek... maybe two?
...okay, admittedly, kissing her may have put him in a mood and he can’t bring himself to stop.
