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virgil-writes · 3 years

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ash & soot

Long before the Winters come into play, a monster stalks the Forbidden Forest that surrounds the Village. Karl Heisenberg is sent to investigate, and heads deeper into darkness to find his prey, a thorn on his side and someone just like him. (Heisenberg x OC)

chapter 12 - cabin fever

SFW, around 5K words.

chapter 13 - liebchen (ao3 only, smut)

The sheets underneath him were worn but comfortable, ancient-looking in design but well taken care of. The bed frame is barely there, mattress a well-placed lattice away from being on the floor. He can’t remember the last time he’s been on a bed, the last time he’d laid his body down at all, for any reason. His back complains every other second, not because of the comfort of the bedding, but because it had gone without for so long. A wonderfully comfortable blanket covers him up to the hips, the soft mattress almost makes him feel like he is floating. Fuck, he really missed having a proper bed now.

He inspects himself carefully, still not fully convinced this is not a fever-induced hallucination. His hand is where it should be, and so is his leg, and every other part of his body that he recalled having before. There are half a dozen new scars that he can count, all healed over perfectly like they’d opened years ago instead of hours, forming a map of stories he would rather not tell. He is shirtless but is wearing pants now, his trench coat and hat nowhere to be found. He pushes the blanket aside to find the damn woolen slippers waiting for him on a woven rug. It doesn’t take him long to realize where he is, but nothing resembles her, no personal belongings on the nightstand, no desk or mirror or even a dresser. It looked as if the room was rarely visited, kept clean but empty, and he wondered if sleep was a foreign concept to her, too.

Hesitant, tentative movements take him down the ladder and into the living room, and he expects to find her hard at work at something or another, humming a tune while she cooks, petting the goat and telling it asinine, cutesy things in a soft voice. But the house is silent and she is nowhere to be found, the dog sits in front of the closed front door and watches his every move. It is not aggressive but watchful, like it had been given the task of keeping an eye on the ailing man and alerting his owner in case anything was amiss.

“I’m fine, fleabag.” He laughs at the dog and gets a huff in response, an acknowledgment, and the shepherd moves from its post at the door to give him passage if he so desires. Heisenberg gives it a well deserved pat on the head as it passes by, tail wagging hesitantly as it tried to make friends with him. He is glad to be alone - if anyone ever used this against him, he would deny it.

A plate awaits him at the dinner table, and despite his intentions of running out of there before she could see him again, breakfast is an offer he cannot bring himself to refuse. Bread and jam, a robust omelet served with sprinkles of cheese and herbs. He can almost see the aroma the coffee has left behind, and finds the pot on the side of the wood stove, cup and saucer set for him nearby.

He eats slowly and in silence, chews thoroughly before swallowing, as if he fears some abrupt movement would rip reality apart and throw him back into the pit of suffering he found himself in the night before. There is no blood, no pain; no sign of the madness he had come so close to drowning in. He is safe and comfortable, there is good food in his belly and a warm hearth to keep the cold at bay. His problems are far and cannot catch him, and maybe if he keeps stalling to finish breakfast he can stay in this bliss forever. The world is quiet outside, and so are his thoughts, for once in his life.

A shirt and sweater are neatly folded and arranged as to call attention on the couch, no doubt to replace his blood-stained, ragged trench coat. He feels naked without it, he muses as he pulls the moss-colored shirt over his head, and it feels awkward not to wear the hat and the glasses. It would be unpleasant if she were to catch him now, free of his usual regalia; he felt that she would see right through him, stare deep into his eyes and find out all he had worked so hard to hide.

He did not feel like Karl Heisenberg, Lord of the Village, powerful mutant capable of unspeakable acts of violence. He was… Karl, middle-aged immortal man who enjoyed tinkering, was a big fan of meat an potatoes and didn’t know what to do when he had time to waste in his hands. Karl, of German origin but Romanian by birth, come from a long line of miners and steel workers. People of few words and fewer luxuries, hardy of constitution and blunt to a fault. He had been content to be those things and nothing more, to carry on what the Heisenbergs had done for centuries, until life dumped him on his head and led him to where he is today.

But not today, because maybe just today he can forget, and let his gracious host distract him with her mystery and the delicate curves of her buttocks. Perhaps tomorrow he would go back to treating her like a tool he would use and discard, but today she would be none the wiser, and neither would he. The fresh air of the mountain and distance from the cramped confines of the factory would do him good, he decided, help reinvigorate his spirit and refresh his ideas, spark some inspiration. And if not, well, the food was excellent and she was easy on the eyes.

A pair of boots that didn’t belong to him were by the door, just the right size to fit him. He had walked all the way up barefoot, he remembers, but he would very much like to know how she seemed to have everything that he needed readily available. Was she clairvoyant alongside being a healer? Did she bleed money that she could buy information on him from the Duke and the apparel to go with it? He opened the door to find her outside, looking like the cat that ate the canary, a couple meters away from the gate that separated her plot of land from the heart of the forest. She had just emerged from amongst the trees, heavy coat over her shoulders and leather boots to keep the ice off her feet. Her hands were free, no basket for foraging or firewood in her arms. No sign of a knife or any other kind of weapon, but judging by the look on her face, he could swear she had just committed murder. Her eyes told him she would not speak of it.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” he began, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, at least trying to fish an explanation out of her. Instead she pretended to forget the suspicious circumstances and focused on him instead, her face lighting up at the sight of him up and about, like she didn’t expect to see him anytime soon. Had it been that bad?

“Good morning, my lord. Are you well?” Shame and madness aside, he thought, things were going swimmingly. “I hope the accommodations were to your liking.” Once again with the pleasantries, with the caring for what he thought of her hospitality. Did she get a kick out of being so kind? That was the most foolish thing he had ever heard. He tried to come up with a witty response that would catch her off guard, but the night had been long and there was too much tiredness swamping his mind, and all he got was honesty:

“Quite. Hadn’t slept in a bed in decades.” As if to validate his words, he stretched and grunted in approval, pains he did not even realize he’d had gone like magic.

“Well, it remains at your disposal,” was her response as she chuckled, wiping her hands on the embroidered apron before gesturing an invitation. There was dirt on her palms. “It may not be much, but it’ll give you a good night’s rest.” She motioned for him to follow, something he would grow accustomed to.

“You know,” he began, following her into the shed, accepting the shallow basket she handed him. “I bet it’d be even better if you were there with me.” She hummed in approval, a smile as devious as his on her face. The damn woman would always catch him off guard; Heisenberg was not used to being flirted with, words thrown about only half-seriously, only to make the villagers blush and Alcina mad. He had never followed up on any of it, because it was always meant to annoy, and the fact that she not only took him seriously but fired back pulled the rug right from under him. And boy did he like it.

They laughed but spoke no more of it, tension like static in the air, both fully aware the joke had more than a few nuggets of truth to it. A dozen different scenarios ran through his mind, on ways he could take her, mark her, ruin her. Inside the shed, behind the stables, propped on the porch railing. Standing, face pressed against the floor, legs tightly wrapped around his waist. She smirked as she passed by him, smirked like she could tell every image that went through his mind. Smirked like she knew he would not do any of it, that his flirting was just a front and he had never found the courage to take the plunge, not even once. Her wink was the cherry on the cake, the challenge that made his cheeks flush at just the right moment so that she wouldn’t see it.

The morning was spent tending to the animals and the garden, and she instructed him on how to feed the chickens and keep the tiny goat happy. Its name was Prince and it demanded to be treated like royalty, lest the puny humans faced his wrath and for now adorable headbutts. The thing followed him around the whole time, demanded his attention when he collected the eggs from the coop, when he let the horse out of the stable to let it stretch its legs. Only when the weather took a turn for the worse did it scurry off to hide in the pens with its mom, settling down on a nice and dry bundle of hay.

He was put in charge of firewood while she tended the garden. The innuendos were kept to a minimum, but the static never left, and he felt her eyes heavy on him as he brought the axe down, muscles flexing and veins showing on his forearms with the effort. Maybe he ought to do more housework around her, and she’d come around and do his bidding without hesitation.

When the wind blew away his hat, Heisenberg realized there would be no going back to the factory unless he hurried. The storm had been mounting for days now, but he had never been one to pay much attention to the tells of weather; he rarely left his hideout, and with the factory being mostly underground, he would be trapped inside for a few days at best. He had perhaps half an hour for a journey that would take him one or two under such bad weather, and he would have to be lucky for the bridge to hold if it got too bad. She wasted little time paying attention to his inner turmoil, and went about securing the animals instead, making sure they had food, water and a warm place to spend the night. Snow was falling fast by the time she was done, and she ushered him in when he’d stood there too long, snow coming up to his shins already. They brushed off as much as they could on the porch before heading inside, water dripping down their shoulders. There was a long pause as they both watched the storm come down through the living room window, a knowing silence that the day would be long, and the night longer, and neither would be leaving that cabin for at least the next day.

“Well, it seems the bed is yours for the night again, my lord,” were her words as she bolted the door, a hint of joy in her voice. He imagined it was a lonely existence, secluded in the mountains and feared by all, not part of any community and especially not theirs. She always seemed so happy to see him, to see another human whose first instinct wasn’t to attack her. He would pity her if he cared, if his existence wasn’t equally as lonesome, if he hadn’t fashioned it to be exactly what he wished. He’d never needed anyone yapping about everything and nothing in his ears, interrupting his work and diverting his attention from what really mattered. Alcina was insane to have taken in the girls, really; children sounded like an exhausting chore that never ended. He never understood why she always looked so content in spite of it all. His mother always told him one day he would understand, he would want to keep someone close, and then he would want someone else just like them to cherish and love, to teach and share the good and bad moments. He would turn a hundred soon and never quite felt like it; maybe in another hundred years?

His only answer was a lopsided smile, tired and sad, and he tried to brace for the barrage of questions and comments that were certain to come. She was trapped inside her living space with the stranger who emerged from the guts of the forest, come from a village rife with death, where he was sovereign save for Mother dearest. He was the favorite son and the most powerful, gifted with strength and wits and influence and power. Those he could not talk down he could easily buy out, and those he could not buy out he could easily destroy. He was a fabled recluse and rumors ran rampant of the work he’d conduct in his factory, of treasures he kept deep underground. It would be a long day, the first in forever that he would spend so close to another breathing, talking human, and he did not know what to expect aside from a lot of chit-chat and a mounting headache. Surely she would like to know all about him, now that he couldn’t run away from her. Surely she would pry into his motives, pepper in questions about his siblings and the village. A thousand smug answers he conjured in his mind, each snappier than the other, every retort a question thrown back at her. It was only fair, of course; she had thrown much at him, bits and pieces of improbabilities that he couldn’t put together, and if she intended on digging deep, he would do the same.

To his surprise, all she did was leave her boots behind next to him and proceed to ignore him, going about her daily life like he was of no consequence. He found himself stunned, rooted in front of the door with a puzzled expression on his face. She looked at him as if to say well, this is it, make yourself at home and enjoy the day, and once again the domesticity of it all broke him more than words could ever have. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly.

First, she dusted the shelves, reorganized her herb cabinet and found a place for his hat. The curtains were drawn and she took a peek outside, checking on the pens and the stable to make sure the animals would have a comfortable enough day. Then she bound off to a corner of the living room, producing a basket with threads and fabric, yarn and needles that she brought over to the couch. She sat cross-legged, close to the fire, and only spared him a brief glance before tending to her needlework. He felt weird as he reached for the papers he had brought with him the night before, tucked next to the myriad of books on her shelf. They remained silent when he took a seat at the table and pushed open the schematics to get a better look at them, the potted plant centerpiece serving as a paper weight so he could work properly. The first few minutes were nerve-racking, his paranoia telling him he would look away and find her peering curiously over his shoulder, trying to steal away his secrets to use against him as leverage. He read the same words again and again only to realize he hadn’t understood them, eyes turning to her every minute to make sure she still hadn’t moved. She caught him eventually, eyebrow raised in his direction as she tried to make sense of the situation, mouth turning into an “oh” as she jumped off the couch and stood on the tips of her toes to reach the very top of the bookshelf. A minute later and she had brought him a candle and holder, a half-empty box of matches in her other hand. She stood at the other end of the table and pushed it in his direction, still not curious regarding his work, but figuring that, even in daylight, the cabin was dark and he likely was not used to doing things by candlelight. It took him a moment to process and bring the light closer, shocked as he was to see that she intended to leave him to his own devices but cared about his comfort.

The hours were a blur then, when he convinced himself she would not surprise him, and his suspicions were correct; a change of environment had done wonders for his creativity, solutions jumping at him paper after paper, a multitude of new projects and ideas for him to try once he was back at the factory. He can’t remember the last time he had been so productive, the last time he had folded everything in and told himself he was done for the day, because he had done more than enough. She had brought him tea and bread at some point and he had eaten absentmindedly, crumbs and drops of jam staining the papers, but he could not bring himself to care. After tea she had brought him coffee, and then a jug of water, and while he felt a bit like a caged animal being fed periodically, it did wonders to keep his work flowing.

Night had already fallen when he finally took a break, got up to stretch his legs and look around to see just what she had been doing this whole time. Her crafts basket was back in its place, a sock taking shape on the needles. A book abandoned where she was sitting instead, the little witch nowhere near it. Instead she was busy preparing dinner, swaying her hips to a tune but quiet as a mouse, like she was going out of her way to give him peace and quiet. He appreciated it, try as he might to deny it, how she cared without meddling, made herself present but not intruding.

Maybe he should hire her to be his assistant, help him organize the half-done office he had begun building on the upper floors of the factory. She certainly would be great at helping him keep his affairs in order - and by that he meant she would keep him fed, mostly, the one thing he kept forgetting to do and that always set him back. He could provide her with something better than this, surely, her very own quarters with modern wonders such as electricity and proper plumbing, a bathroom of her own, maybe even a fridge. Had she ever seen a fridge before? He imagined she would decorate the place with all manner of silly things that would only serve to gather dust, knickknacks and wreaths and woven things, and that it would smell of flowers and fresh-baked bread. Her responsibilities would include housekeeping and Heisenkeeping - organizing his papers so he wouldn’t lose them, keeping track of all of the family meetings he had to attend, dealing with the Duke for supplies so he wouldn’t have to. He’d reward her handsomely, give her days off, be a good employer unlike his parents had been. Not a bad plan, if he did say so himself.

He had only forgotten to factor in that she was, still, a powerful, self-described blood witch. He had been entertaining himself with the thoughts of having her around as he watched her prepare dinner; she’d gone hunting in the morning, he realized, two hares hanging upside down from an iron ring. She took one down to place it at the cutting board, its insides clean but pelt still intact. He had no doubt she would be skilled at skinning it; when one lives as long as she has with no contact with the outside world, such skills are necessary for survival. What he did not expect was the way she’d go about it: a firm hand grabbed a handful of fur, gave it a gentle twist and pulled, effortlessly, the entire thing coming off in her hand, no cuts and no tears, neck and head and all. He could see the knife from where he was sitting, placed blade down into the ceramic jug.

Heisenberg bent forward to see better when she did it the second time around, and it was as unexplainable and horrifying as the first. Gross but humane, like she simply coaxed the skin to slide right off the flesh. If the thing had been alive, he imagined it would have been quite painful, a whole human suit in her hand and living flesh left behind. The thought almost makes him gag, a disgusted sound escaping his lips and making her realize she’s not alone. She slowly turns to face him with a sheepish smile, like a child caught red-handed. “Pretend you didn’t see that?” She offers, but he shakes his head no. Not in a million years he would forget the sheer brutality of it. He waits but she doesn’t explain it, goes back to making dinner like nothing had happened.

“Could you do that to something… Bigger, darling?” He approaches her slowly, like a predator carefully stalking its prey, though he feels far from a position of power at the moment. She nods her head yes. “Like, say, a good ole’ human?” He whispers in her ear, a shiver running down her spine at the sudden intrusion and hot breath against her skin, flirting his go-to attempt at getting back the reigns of any situation.

“Want me to test it on you, my lord?” She quips in the same whisper tone, and he is wise enough to back off for now.

“Think I’ll pass.” Before he can run back to his seat, she hands him the smaller, bone-bladed knife and pushes a bowl of potatoes towards him, the sudden motion startling him and eliciting a chuckle out of her. Looks like he’ll have to earn his keep. For a while they work shoulder to shoulder in peaceful silence, save for his grunts of frustration at not being able to peel a potato successfully. It’s been a long time. “You ought to show me what you can do one of these days. I’m awful curious.” She considers it for a second, head moving left and right, knife following the movement.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” and she doesn’t mean metal bending and knife juggling, he knows. He can’t think of a reason why she would want to see him, truly see him, monstrous appearance and all, but if that’s the price to pay, he’ll gladly do it. It would be good for his ego, too, that priceless look on her face as he shifts into the stuff of nightmares.

There are no more gruesome sneak peeks for the night and soon the stew is ready, he helps set the table and she finds a bottle of wine she’d stashed away for a rainy day. She explains over dinner that he was quite feverish when he arrived, and it’s a wonder he made it through the night. He truly was sturdy, no ifs or buts about it, she said in appreciation. There were cuts and bruises all over him, all shapes and sizes, like he’d fallen through glass. Did he have an accident at the factory? There was genuine concern in her voice, though they both knew that she knew better.

His curiosity gets the better of him and he experiments with a few questions, each answer leaving him further in the dark. How old was she? Somewhere around a hundred and thirty. She remembers being old enough to read around 1902, when she saw the date on a newspaper she fished out of the gutter, but beyond that time was either a blur or she’d been too young to remember. Where did she come from? Not a clue, but she’s been around: she’s seen Italian castles, been to centuries old British pubs. She’s seen the Brandenburg Gate and visited Chateau de Versailles. She’s bathed in the beautiful waters of the Greek coast, made a pilgrimage to the volcanic beaches of Iceland. She’s never made it past the ocean to the Americas or down to the warmer climates of Africa, but time has never been an issue, and she figures she’ll get to it eventually. He asks her why all the wandering, is someone after her? Her breath hitches and her eyes lower, shoulders slump, a deep breath before the replies. Something like that, and he understands maybe it’s best if he doesn’t push.

They returned to the topic of his feverish display once dinner was over, with her cautioning that he had been lucky this time around, lucky that she was home, lucky that he even made it across the bridge and found his way home. Home, her use of the word is deliberate and strokes something warm and fuzzy within him. Disgusting. There was the matter of the shard, he took a sit on the couch as she reached into a drawer to pull out a bundle of clean cloth, and he feigns confusion when she unwraps it to reveal a piece of metal shaped similar to an arrowhead. He recognized it, the shavings of a project he had worked on… Maybe a year ago? It’d been sticking out through his ribs when he arrived, she said, and it looked anything but recent; infection had taken around it, skin red and swollen. She could see that it was agonizingly painful - had he not noticed it at all?

“Ah, so that’s what it was.” He blurted without really meaning to, a humorless chuckle that left her confused. “I’d been feeling this weird poke in my ribs for the longest time - thought I’d broken something.” He shrugs and she nods, clearly aware of their peculiar situations, perhaps now beginning to comprehend just how many layers of fucked up he was made of. “You’re a miracle worker, doll.” His fingers instinctively trace over the spot where the shard had been, nothing there but a scar that had healed remarkably well. “How can I ever repay you?”

Money, gems, jewelry? She didn’t strike him as the materialistic kind. No, she was all about the meaningful gestures, the showing of kindness. There were a few ways he could think of showing his appreciation - slamming her body against the wall to press a hard kiss on her lips, a nice, firm tug on her hair as he nibbled on her neck. Or maybe something softer if she was so inclined, more romantic even, like a well-placed, resounding slap on her ass cheek. “I’ll be sure to think of something, my lord.” Was the answer she gave, though he was sure she meant something else entirely judging by the way she let her coat slide off to reveal her bare shoulders as she set about getting ready for bed. Her hands gathered more and more of her skirt until it’d reached the middle of her thighs, delicate lace adorning the band of her stockings, tiny suspenders disappearing from sight but serving to peak his curiosity. She undid the hooks that kept it in place, fingers threatening to roll the garment down agonizingly slow. Instead she turned to look at her enraptured audience, the pose propping her ass up and so close to his hands. He had thought it had all been an act, carefully orchestrated to put him on edge, but the gasp of surprise she let out told him otherwise. “I am so sorry, my lord.” She quickly let go of it all and stood up straight, a flush running across her face. “I am not used to having visitors.”

“You needn’t stop on account of little ole’ me, darling.” He is quick to say, rich laughter that filled the room with mischief. Heisenberg sprawls further onto the couch, legs parting like an invitation. Best seat in the house, in the whole village even. “I did enjoy it.”

When it was time to say goodnight, he kept his composure and even helped her move one of the pillows and blanket down the ladder. If his mother were alive she would chastise him for not being a gentleman, for not refusing vehemently to let her sleep on an uncomfortable couch instead of her own bed. But the day was over and so were the pleasantries, and he would have to take the time to cleanse her off his mind, ease himself back into his usual mindset. She was impossibly alluring, impossibly annoying, impossibly loving. There was no figuring her out and it seemed there would be no delving deeper in. Playtime was over and it was back to work tomorrow as soon as she storm had passed. He needed to shed away her kindness before it managed to ooze under his skin, but she had no intention of making it any easier on him.

“Here you go,” Heisenberg had no time to stand on ceremony, shoved the pillow in her direction and flashed her a smile to keep up appearances, mind wandering somewhere else, somewhere where he did not care about her. It was better this way. “Good night, sweetheart.”

Even though he tried, he never truly reached that fabled place where she was of no importance. Not that he would ever acknowledge it.

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg x reader #virgil writes

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magitekmammet · 5 years

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Magitek Mammet - LFRP (Crystal/Balmung)

[ Updated: July 12th 2019 ]

🔧 { Summary }

Model MA91-L is a Lalafell-shaped, magitek-powered mammet with an AI capable of developing itself and evolving by learning from its personal experiences and surroundings. Her creation was overseen by Cid Garlond himself with help of Biggs, Wedge, and Nero with ambition to create an advanced artificial life form able to simulate and learn to be human, As such she acts with very childlike wonder about almost everything and everyone who encounters her, asking many questions about who they are and what their own life is like, constantly taking notes and recording her findings. Cid's reasoning behind creating her was to try putting what he learned from his time in the Interdimensional Rift and his knowledge and experiences with Omega and how it learned to evolve and advance itself into practice, eventually leading to Model MA91-L's creation.

Her designated design name is Model MA91-L but she refers to herself as Magigi Magi or simply Magi as most people who know her by, although some few also refer to her as Em, Emi, or Emma as a playful nickname on the sound 'M' makes in her name. Created in Gyr Abania at the Ironworks branch established there she refers to herself as a Gyr Abanian, and though she has little to no experience on the hardships most others from her country have gone through in the past few decades she still fights like she is one of them and is very proud of where she comes from, calling Rhalgr's Reach her cradle and home...

🔧 { Basics }

NAME: Magigi Magi - Model MA91-L

NICKNAME/ALIAS: Magi, Mamms, Em, Emi, Emma.

AGE: Cid says she is 'old enough' by proxy of her appearance, though she is only several moons old.

NAMEDAY: 7th Sun of the 3th Astral Moon.

RACE: Advanced Forgekin/Soulkin Hybrid (Mammet) - Model: Lalafell.

GENDER: Nonbinary - Female Presenting

SEXUALITY: Pansexual/Polyamourous

MARTIAL STATUS: Single

🔧 { Physical Appearance }

HAIR: White and kept tied back in a braided plait, twintails, or simply cute short for less hindrance. Regardless of style it will always remain white with dark ends.

EYES: Gold like gil and almost iridescent in essence. They glow faintly with a dim light and can be noticed in dark or poorly lit areas.

HEIGHT: 2'7"

BUILD: Short yet incredibly sturdy for her size, she is almost completely identical to any Lalafell of her stature, the only difference being she’s heavier.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Two blue marks on her cheeks that glow faintly with a blue glow. These ‘sensors’ change in color depending on her current mood to help reflect her emotions outwardly better to others.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Her gun, a small toolbox, and a magitek bit, company mammet, or accompaniment node that follows her around.

🔧 { Personal }

PROFESSION: Ironworks Hand, engineer/machinist, mage, part-time performer.

HOBBIES: Inventing new contraptions/gadgets, researching old ruins/buildings, people watching, aiding the Ironworks, traveling, performing, swimming, aiding Clan Centurio, and collecting tomes/data.

LANGUAGES: Common (Progressive/All)

RESIDENCE: She owns a small shop at the free company she resides in, as well as a small apartment in the Sultana’s Breath that she has renovated into a theater.

BIRTHPLACE: Gyr Abania - Rhalgr’s Reach

PATRON DIETY: Byregot, the Builder.

FEARS: Losing her ability to create and disappointing her creator/father, Cid.

🔧 { Relationships }

SPOUSE: Maybe someday!

CHILDREN: N/A

PARENTS: Cid, Biggs, Wedge, and Nero, technically.

SIBLINGS: None, though she treats her accompaniment (bit, mammet, and node) as family, and sees most companions or friends as an older brother/sister.

OTHER RELATIVES: N/A

PETS: She has a tiny hedgehog that she has so cleverly named Spike.

🔧 { Traits }

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

🔧 { Additional Information }

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. She makes smoke herself, sometimes.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. Does ceruleum count...?

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess. She carries around a flask of ceruleum/refined oil mixture that she drinks from occasionally.

🔧 { RP Hooks }

Engineer (”I can fix it!”) - When it comes to fixing things and learning about what makes a mechanism tick, Magi is your wonder child. She absolutely loves fixing things for people, and if she doesn’t know how to fix it it only makes her that more excited to find out just how to, pushing her to go out of her way to gain the knowledge and understanding to help! Have a hand in the Ironworks? Need help with a machine? Want someone to take a look at why your airship is making that weird noise? Your Regalia not shifting into second gear like it should? Manacutter just not cutting it like it used to? Need a gun crafted? A gizmo? Find her and she'll be happy to take a look!

Heavy (“When the going gets tough, you call Magi!”) - Magi is--at the heart of all things--a very durable lass. Cid spared no quarter in creating her to last a long time without breaking or needing constant maintenance. Luckily for her this means she is capable of taking some rather heavy hits in the name of good, and lucky for you she just so happens to like protecting people that she thinks are good, or could just use a hand! This tanky little mammet likes to do just that- tank! Are you a wayward adventurer in need of some protection and guidance into the depths of old ruins or a deep dungeon crawl? Toss the little Lalabot a few gil and you have yourself a reliable shield to stand behind through thick and thin.

Spy/Scout (”...I’m in.”) - The thing about being small and rather unassumingly docile? People ignore you a lot. This however works in Magi’s favor when it comes to sneaking around and learning what she needs to. Combined with a rather cunning processor and her particularly cute appearance she is a blade of efficiency in when it comes to obtaining information, discovering weaknesses in enemy plots and territory, and espionage. If you have the coin and the time, she has your information.

Sniper (”I’ve got you in my sights...”) - If there is one thing Magi is better at doing than being a durable little robot that can tank way more than looks possible its shooting a gun. Very. Very. Well. Her advanced knack of calculation allows her to almost predict where her bullet will hit with an ominously terrifying accuracy, marking her as one of the finest sharpshooters of Eorzea- artificial or not. Need an extra firearm in your party, or just some reliable company to travel with? She’s only be happy to oblige you! She may be small and easy to underestimate as any other Lalafell, but hire/challenge her and she’ll bet she’ll not miss a single shot.

🔧 { Contact Information }

IGN: Magitek Mammet (Balmung) Message me ingame anytime I am online, which is almost always! I’ll get back to you as soon as I can if I am busy or in a dungeon, I promise! If you can’t massage me for some reason I am most likely hanging around the Sunsilk Tapestries in Ul’dah.

DISCORD: Mammet#0836 - You can add me anytime on here, just be sure to let me know who you are so I can keep track of everyone! I’m god awful at remembering new faces/names at first, sorry!

Tagging: @balmungrp @balmungroleplayers @crystalxivrp @ffxiv-balmung-rp @ffxiv-crystal-rp @mooglemeet

#ff14 #ffxiv #lfrp #balmung lfrp #crystal lfrp #lalafell #mammet #magitek mammet #magigi magi

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digital-elixir · 3 years

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The Kingdom of Lucis has fallen to an Evil Empire. While on a roadtrip with his three best friends, Prince Noctis soon finds himself entangled in a massive plot full of twists and turns.⁣ ⁣ As an open world rpg, most of your time will be spent exploring Eos on foot or riding the Regalia - a magnificent car gifted by your father, Regis. Driving from point to point, camping under the stars and listening to the banter of Gladio, Prompto and Ignis does provide a rather unique, emotional experience unlike any other FF game. The battle system is a chaotic mess. While it looks appealing and has a surprising amount of depth, it lacks a certain refinement only found later in the FF7 Remake. I dislike how magic was handled as it felt like grenades instead of actual spells.⁣ ⁣ Visually, FFXV is impressive. The environments, enemy designs, spells, ability effects, weapons and even the detailed food dishes are well made. Some textures do look dated. On a PS4 Pro, the low graphic detail in certain areas of the game surprised me.⁣ ⁣ With Yoko Shimomura at the helm, the music is going to be nothing short of incredible. While some tracks contained motifs reminiscent of Kingdom Hearts, wonderful tracks such as “Stand Your Ground”, “Hunt or Be Hunted”, “Galdin Quay”, “Relax and Reflect”, “Veiled in Black”, “Crystalline Chill”, “The Fight is On”, “Apocalypsis Noctis”, “Omnis Lacrima”, “Up for the Challenge”, “Cape Caem”, and “Careening Into Danger” are a bliss to the senses.⁣ ⁣ FFXV is one of my least favorite mainline Final Fantasy games. While it contains unique concepts, systems and design choices, it’s not without a slew of issues. It’s by no means a terrible game when compared to others, but it struggles to keep me interested. Still – I’m glad I experienced it but won’t be returning anytime soon.⁣ ⁣ #gamer #videogame #videogames #instagaming #rpg #jrpg #finalfantasy #finalfantasyxv #finalfantasy15 #ff15 #noctis #prompto #ignis #gladolius #lunafreya #squareenix #photography #crystals #backlog #gamephotography #screenshot #ps4 #playstation #ファイナルファンタジー https://www.instagram.com/p/CLFvuzznBXk/?igshid=dsf5re2o57rl

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lovehotelreservation · 7 years

Text

Roughin’ It

Summary: While camping out with Noctis and his friends was considerably more upscale than one would experience, you were still roughing it in different ways.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Reader/Chocobros (Noctis, Prompto, Gladiolus, Ignis)

AT LONG LAST

I FINALLY WAS ABLE TO WORK ON LEWDS WITH ALL OF THE CHOCOBROS

Over the course of playing and finishing FFXV, I’ve fallen for each of our Tetsuya Nomura-designed quartet, and have been looking forward to writing for them all!

^o^ And what better time to finally post this one-shot than on my birthday~?

That said, I do sincerely hope you all enjoy!

------------------------

"Iggyyy, when are we gonna eat?"

However muffled it was, the sound of quick yet precise whisking followed, along with the cool, focused response of, "After I marinate the meat, Prompto--something that can't be done promptly."

There was a loud, childish whine--and a "Really, dude?"--that followed, and then the low rumble of Gladiolus's amused laughter. Though, the noise had nothing on the furious grumbling of your stomach--despite its volume however, you still weren't surprised that Noctis had yet to stir from his nap as he rested in the tent you were currently situated in.

You did not mind waiting for the night's meal to be prepared; never would you be so demanding of Ignis, especially since he did his best to make do with what was on hand. However, with how long of a day it had been--especially while chasing down hunting marks on the outskirts of Lestallum--you were much too hungry to sit around and wait for whatever culinary endeavor that Ignis was determined to see through.

It was a good thing that you stocked up on your personal stash of snacks before leaving town--particularly a chocolate bar that you had been craving for the past couple of weeks.

Though, by rule amongst the five of you, those who drove in the Regalia together, ate together--in that no one was supposed to eat ahead of dinner, else risk being scolded by Ignis.

An honorable code, certainly. But honor did not sate the hunger that was aggravating you to no end.

With every intention of eating a little snack to curb your hunger, you snuck off to the tent after helping with setting up camp. Noctis was curled up slightly beside you while he napped, Ignis was at work preparing dinner, and Prompto was snapping pictures of Gladiolus dragging over the beast that would serve as your protein for the night's meal. Though everyone seemed to be distracted with their own endeavors, you still made sure to be elusive while making your way over to the tent.

If you wandered off on your own--snack-stuffed backpack on your person--it would look too suspicious. Above all, while you wanted to nibble on something, you wanted to do so without catching the attention of the likes of Prompto and Gladiolus.

Because they would eat your treats.

While making direct eye contact with you and giving you thanks for feeding them.

As they always did.

You could still hear the rumblings of the three outside the tent. With how hot it was, you wondered how they could stand to have the energy to maintain their back and forth. While the tent was considerably cooler than outside, there was still heat that was encased, leaving you feeling much too warm. Still, it wasn’t unusual for you or the others to remove unnecessary layers on hot days—namely, Gladiolus and his affinity for carrying on shirtless, not that his usual shirt covered much anyway—so you saw no harm in stripping down to just a long, loose fitting tanktop, which bared your chest generously.

Having found slight relief in being freed from your attire, you reached into your bag to pull out your highly prized chocolate bar to take a bite. In your hungry haste, however, you had the bar near your mouth as you tore off the wrapper to take a bite, only for a dollop or two to drip right down onto your chest. While understandably confused at first, you quickly realized that this was something to be expected, weather and all. Though, this did make it clear that your chocolate bar was more like cream in a rectangular shape, one that became floppy and limp as you held it in your hand.

Even with the huff you released, you didn't complain. Chocolate was chocolate after all.

While you thought of wiping away the drips on your chest, you thought it would be better to attend to the melting mess that was your treat first--after all, attend to the source so you wouldn't make even more of a mess.

It really was a good thing that Noctis was fast asleep. The thought of him waking up to you hurriedly trying to lick your fingers clean while showing off an ample amount of skin covered in melted chocolate was a flustering one.

What wasn't a good thing however was the tent flap almost being torn open as the sing-song chirp of your name and "Check out this cool pic I took of you today!" quickly followed.

Usually it was you who walked in on Prompto in awkward, sometimes compromising situations.

But now, this was something you weren't going to be living down anytime soon.

His gorgeous blue eyes went almost comically wide, freckled cheeks becoming dusted with rouge as his pink lips parted in dramatic shock, his camera nearly dropping in surprise.

Prompto certainly wasn't expecting this sight, much like you weren't expecting to see him so soon.

His gawking went on a moment longer, and then he licked his lips.

Your vision was briefly obscured by the white of a camera flash. When the light dissipated, you were left with the sight of a grinning Prompto.

He proceeded to shut one eye, his tongue peeking out from his lips as he thoroughly inspected the picture he just took you.

"Actually I take that back. This picture's much cooler--or should I say..."

You sucked in a sharp breath, bracing yourself for what you knew he was about to say.

"...hotter?"

There was a moment when annoyance was clearly evident on your face, one that he didn't get to fathom completely as you, without another thought, proceeded to lunge right for him to atone for his crimes of being a playful, perverted, pun-making photographer.

4 Ps.

Trouble tended to show itself in fours for you.

Which on that note, was how you--amidst the struggle of trying to rip Prompto's camera from him—wound up straddling his squirming hips while he fended you off, that stupid grin still plastered on his lips.

No, honestly, how was Noctis napping through all this?

"Someone's being a little feisty this afternoon~" Prompto hummed amusedly, even as red heat flooded across his cheeks from the delightful sensation of your hips pressing down against his. "And just being so unable to keep your hands off me--are ya trying to tell me something, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to tell you to delete the picture, Prompto," you huffed while struggling to keep him still while reaching forward just enough to where his outstretched arms were holding his camera away from your hands. Doing so resulted in your loose top dangling down from your body.

For a moment, Prompto was left in awe at catching a glimpse of your bared nipples, a sight made even more appetizing--literally speaking--when he saw the chocolate that was still on your skin, having melted and dripped down even further from your body heat. With Iggy still cooking and you above him in this perfect position, he was looking to have his hunger sated immediately.

There was an opening in this situation and he was ready to say "hi."

"In that case..." Prompto trailed off, waiting until you were looking down at him once more before he continued to speak, his grin feigning innocence. "Just let me have a little lick and I'll be good--"

You had a feeling it would come down to this.

"--because if Iggy were to find out you were snacking before dinner, that'd be bad~"

As you knew that would be dangled right over your head.

On one hand, you knew that he--as much of a playful goofball he was--would honor his word should you comply. In another regard, you were just annoyed that you were caught off-guard to have landed in a situation like this in the first place.

Even if this wasn't the first time that you wound up with Prompto and/or any of the other guys in this manner.

Prompto, for all his clumsiness, was still capable of adhering to his duties as Crownsguard. That was, if the mission called for it, there was nothing that could get in the way of his determination to see that whatever objective was successful.

Especially if that objective meant he could either keep a risque photo of you, or get to run his tongue all over your breasts.

And from what he mentioned, being scolded by Ignis--especially if you were to be receiving the reprimand--was the last thing you or your ass needed right now.

You sucked in your teeth briefly before you released a huff. Though your eyes were quick to then narrow, you mumbled in defeat, "...Just make it quick."

For someone who could lament for hours when someone picked up his camera with even the slightest lack of care, he sure was quick to toss the device to the furthest part of the tent, which admittedly, was where the pile of blankets were still neatly folded and stacked upon one another. But that did not match the speed of him sitting up, thereby positioning you on his lap before you heard the sing-song chime of "Thank you for the snack~!" as his mouth descended onto your chest, his arms wrapping around your torso.

This in no way was a 'little lick'. He was taking his sweet time kissing around your décolletage before actually bothering to lick away at the decadence. You shuddered as the warmth of his mouth descended on your skin, his lips closing together to suck for a few moments before his wet tongue lapped against the slowly reddening surface. Caught between ticklish and pleasurable sensations, you only found yourself wanting more, especially with his mouth just inches away from your breasts.

You were about to draw his head closer when he drew away once he deemed your skin clean, emphasizing this with a lick of his lips and a grin on his face. "All done~! And it was just as tasty as I thought!" He chirped sweetly before he closed the gap between you both once more to kiss your cheek. Right as he was about to pull back once more, he paused with curiosity when you suddenly reached for the front flap of his black jacket. "Hm? What's up?"

Your gaze was focused on his neck rather than his eyes. "Actually Prompto...if you want...you can..."

"I caaan...?"

The long, drawn out innocent inflection. At last, you lifted your eyes towards his face.

Damn it, that grin was back.

On that regard though, there was no return to peacefully snacking away at this point, your chocolate bar long forgotten.

"You can...keep going--"

Your hands moved to weave through his styled, blonde hair while his reached for and grabbed at your breasts, all after he drew his mouth away to quickly remove his fingerless gloves. Feeling the full warmth of his palms as the pressed against and kneaded your supple flesh left you shuddering in his confines, a jolt of pleasure sending a familiar slickness to gather between your thighs. You found yourself grinding down against his lap, presented with the enticing sensation of his cock becoming stiff and erect against his black jeans, of which he made evident even further by lifting his hips up to meet yours.

Prompto may have his mouth full now, but you were certain that you would be next once he was through--.

"...Way to screw with my sleep cycle..."

You nearly jumped off of Prompto's lap, were it not for his arms weighing you down--like he'd let his favorite treat slip away him. His mouth slipped away from your breasts, however, as you both turned to face the other side of the tent. Lips forming yet another pout, Prompto whined, "Man, way to kill the mood, Noct."

"...You two are noisy." Noctis grumbled lowly, seeming to still be drowsy as he sat up, running a hand through his hair—messier than usual due to sleep.

You froze, wondering if this was going to be the abrupt end to your little romp. However, Noctis seemed to clarify his intention as he crawled over to where you and Prompto were, his hand reaching over to grasp your chin. His apparent tiredness was gone, a glint instead in his eye as he murmured, "You especially" before leaning forward to capture your mouth in a kiss.

Another helping and you weren't even finished with the first course.

Not that you were complaining, especially when Noctis brushed away one of Prompto's hands in favor of grabbing your breasts.

Usually an action done by either Noctis or Prompto--or Gladiolus--when you were caught between them, it was means to incite competition over who was the most dominant, over who got to control the flow of things. You were surprised that the blonde had nothing to do or say in reaction, and you assumed that he was simply too worked up to really care, thereby okay with Noctis doing as he pleased.

Unexpectedly, however, you suddenly found yourself pressed and laid down on your back. Prompto hovered over you with a toothy grin on his lips as his hands slipped beneath the hem of your top to yank at your panties, which, once they were slipped past your ankles, were flung over to Noctis. Brushing his blonde hair back, he sent his friend a smug, triumphant smirk before humming out "Me first~!" all while keeping your thighs wide open and welcoming for him to plant his head in-between.

The "tch...!" that Noctis let out between gritted teeth was masked by your cry of Prompto’s name. His mouth, having been greeted by the glorious slickness of your center, wasted no time to slurp and savor your taste. Ecstatically, the flat of his tongue lapped against your core, switching between sucking on your clit with precision and technique that you thought to have been mastered by mostly Ignis. Though, with an undisclosed competition currently between him and Noctis, you weren't surprised--but mostly pleased--that he was going all out on you. This was affirmed by him peeking up at you, the lust in his blue eyes gauging your reactions, looking utterly satisfied as he watched you writhe beneath his tongue.

In return, you thanked him with squirming hips and quivering moans, his name uttered shakily from your lips.

Which were then muffled by Noctis as he--now situated by your side--bent down to claim your lips for himself. Firm, hungry kisses kept you from being too noisy. Driven by jealousy and having his nap interrupted, you expected for the prince to not handle you as delicately as per usual--though certainly would be happy to oblige otherwise if you begged nicely. He even went as far to--when he eventually left you breathless from his kiss and drew back--kiss over and nip where Prompto had marked you earlier, all while leaving more of his own impressions on your skin.

You were not against this, loving how one of his hands finally yanked off your top at long last before grabbing and kneading your breasts, fingers rolling and pinching your stiff nipples. Slightly calloused fingers pressed against your stomach, slipping down to circle around your clit all the while Prompto was busy prodding your center with the tip of his tongue.

You were enamored by the two, their cooperation versus their competition. Pleasure spread through you as much as heat did, left encased and confined between the prince and his friend. They left you overwhelmed yet needy for more, especially as you knew that Noctis and Prompto would want you to relieve the tents that had been protruding and--

--been pulled open?

"Heh, thought you kids were rough-housing in here."

A rush of cool air entered the tent, which made you realize that evening was settling in. Though, any sense of chilled relief was replaced by the body heat emanating from Gladiolus's thick, muscled frame as he entered the tent, purposefully leaving the entrance flap open.

Though Noctis and Prompto drew their mouths back away from you, immediately the two were hovering and crowding around you possessively--a new, formidable challenger just entered the ring.

Surveying the state of the three of you, Gladiolus's eyes eventually settled on you and you alone. While not the first time that you were under the intensity of his gentle yet sultry gaze, you still felt delightfully helpless beneath his stare. He was ogling you, eyeing the red imprints made on and around your breasts, and the glistening slickness of your core.

No need to dawdle any longer.

"Did these two boys make you cum even once, sweetheart?" Gladiolus questioned teasingly as he crouched down to the side opposite of Noctis.

Looking into his eyes, you knew that what he had in store for you wouldn't be in any sort of delay. Breathlessly, you remarked, "Almost..."

He licked his lips.

That was all he needed to hear.

Grinning from ear to ear, his gaze moved towards Noctis and Prompto as he calmly demanded, "...Step aside, kids."

"Nu-uh Gladio!" Prompto exclaimed childishly while hugging around your thighs. "I licked here first, therefore I claim ownership!"

Gladiolus was unfazed.

Prompto snapped his head towards Noctis, reaching over to nudge his side, which only earned his hand getting smacked away. "Pluuuuus, plus, plus Noct, didn't your dad say that everything that the light touches was yours?"

Incredulous didn't even begin to describe the look on Noctis's face. "...Prompto, are you fucking talking about The Lion-- Shit!"

It wasn't much issue for Gladiolus to push the two out of the picture--mere scenery to the shining landmark that was you.

Compared to everyone else, he was certainly the most underdressed. No layers of royal attire, no casual butler costume, no outfit ripped out from an Insomnia street fashion blog. Just that shirt that always revealed his magnificent chest and those leather pants.

And by now, you were accustomed to his preference for going commando.

Seeing him fully naked--all muscle while serving as a magnificent canvas for his gorgeous tattoos--was always a marvel, a sight that left your jaw slack while your mouth watered, especially when your eyes fell to between his legs.

There was a nickname that Gladiolus referred to himself with pride: Grandfather Clock.

In that, not only was he--in his words--"Daddy to that sweet ass of yours, sweetheart"--but when he, naked in all of his statuesque, bulking glory, approached the bed, your eyes tended to be hypnotized by the pendulum-like swing of his gloriously long, thick--

"You can treat yourself next time, sweetie. For now, just leave this to me as I remind you how a good fuck's really done."

The deep rumble of his chuckle made you snap out of your trance. Without you even realizing it, you had lifted yourself up from your place on the floor to kneel before him, your grabby hands and parted mouth eager to touch and please his cock.

"It's not the size of the wave, it's the motion of the ocean, you show-off!" You heard Prompto call from behind Gladiolus--even if the likes of he, Noctis, or Ignis were by no means small.

"Whatever makes you and aqua lad over there feel better, squirt," Gladiolus snickered, not paying them any mind, especially while you looked so hungry for his touch. Big hands cupped your cheeks, cradling them against rough palms before you were indulged with a long, heated kiss. Light bites to your bottom lip, tongue probing into your mouth to have simply everything of you.

Dazed, you were more than relaxed and at ease once he pulled away, registering only his hands gently laying you down on your back while spreading your legs apart. The warmth of his thick fingers running against your body heightened your anticipation, your need, your demand to be filled at this instant, especially with how much your arousal had been piqued by Noctis's and Prompto's doing.

You were ready to have Gladiolus prepare to push his cock inside you when you felt the tip of his index finger prod and run over your ass. As opposed to your slick core, it was abundantly clear that neither of the two went so far as much as to even tease it.

"Aww, did Prompt ignore that cute little spot of yours? For shame," Gladiolus hummed, his appalled feelings feigned, given by how he was eager to make the first claim for tonight. "Especially when I know how much you love being stuffed full of my cock there. Isn't that right, sweetie? You're so adorable when you beg for me to fuck your ass. How's that sound now, huh? I'll be sure to scold those two punks for not being thorough with you."

"Please Gladio, anything. Whatever you wanna give me, I'll take. I don't think I can wait any longer," you panted while left in a flustered, begging ramble, lifting up your hips as invitation for him to do as he pleased.

Smirking widely with satisfaction, he leaned down to offer you another smoldering kiss. "And who am I to say no to such a precious request?"

"...Tch, says the guy who's always giving me shit for taking on quests."

"Shut up, Noct."

It didn't take much for him to rifle through Ignis's--aka the responsible one’s--belongings to retrieve a bottle of lube. After spreading a generous amount onto his fingers, he was back to teasing and circling around your ass, his fingertips dipping in while goading you with "You sure you can handle me again, sweetie?" and "You know once I'm inside you, I ain't holding back." This all continued even as he was teasing you with three fingers easing in and out of you at a smooth, fluid pace, his lips either on yours or on your breasts longingly as prepared you for what was to come.

From around him, you could make out Prompto and Noctis, the former nearly undressed while the latter had just tugged down his boxers, the both of them stroking their cocks in anticipation for their turn. They watched you shudder and quiver against Gladiolus's hand, your lips open in sweet pleas for someone--anyone--to fuck you already.

"Ooo, is someone being impatient?" Gladiolus remarked with a click of his tongue, his arrogance having yet to leave his face. Still, he chuckled and kissed your forehead while easing his fingers out of you. "We'll have to address that another time, because for now..."

You savored the sight of his hand languidly coating his thick, erect cock with lube. By now you had been strung along far enough, lead closer and closer to your peak only to take a step back then hoisted forward.

Much like how Gladiolus--once he positioned himself flat on his back--hoisted you over his hips with one hand while the other grasped the base of his shaft. Looking ahead, you could see Noctis and Prompto continuing to touch themselves, their pace quickening as they watched you slowly sink down and impale yourself onto his cock. The noticeable shudder, the deep moan you released as he was sheathed fully in your ass: it was hard to not feel utterly jealous of Gladiolus at this time.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it all in," Gladiolus hissed, his eyes clenching shut as he indulged in your tightness. Though undisclosed, he was just as eager to claim you in this way, given the last time you were at the mercy to the four, you were sandwiched between Prompto and Ignis, between relentless, eager teasing and all-knowing precision, with only your mouth and hands free to be used by him and Noctis. Not to say he'd ever resist the chance to fuck your mouth, simply that he loved feeling you tremble and squeeze around his cock while he had his way with you.

One hand snaked around to cup your breasts before he had you lay down upon his chest. You felt his lips kiss your bare shoulders and the back of your neck, your skin tickled by the bristles of his facial hair. The hand on your breast moved down to join where the other was grabbing the underside of your thighs, using both to spread your legs wide apart.

You expected hoped he would start fucking you without any restraint at last, but what he did next instead was far much better.

"Alright then, who's up next?" Gladiolus queried smugly while finding much pleasure in squeezing and groping your soft flesh.

Noctis made the first move while Prompto was distracted with retrieving his camera from where he had thrown it, quickly making his way over to you were, claiming the spot above you with satisfaction evident in his eyes. "Not Prompto, that's for goddamn sure."

"You guys are a bunch of cheaters!" Prompto whined, camera in hand. His precious pout formed, his eyes becoming like that of a sad puppy. "I was here first after all. None of this would've started if it wasn't for me!"

"You can say that agai-- again!" Whatever haughty quip you had to say was interrupted by Noctis wasting not a second more to finally push his cock deep into your dripping center. The low groan he let out as your wet heat wrapped around him so snug made you shiver, as did having both him and Gladiolus inside you at the same time.

The two locked eyes with one another over your shoulder, and from how Noctis's eyes narrowed, you already knew that the look he received was one of challenge. Especially since both steadily began to thrust their cocks in and out of you--Gladiolus seeking to pierce deeply and stretch as wide as he could, Noctis wanting to make you squeal from him utterly ravaging your core with the ferociousness of his rhythm.

Here you could say that you were as full as can be, however...

You felt a smooth wetness poke against your cheek. Seeing the thick crown of blonde hair, you responded by happily opening your mouth, at last indulging in the treat that you anticipated from Prompto earlier. Offering you a groan and a sigh of pure content, he brought his hand over to your other cheek, stroking it fondly, all the while grinning when he saw and felt the head of his cock push against it.

"Take your time, okay cutie? When either Gladio or Noct are done, I'm stuffing you full next~!"

"Ahem."

You knew Gladiolus left the entrance flap open for a reason, even if he was far too focused on fucking you senseless while determined to get you to cum before Noctis could. The prince was of the same mindset, especially while he gripped your hips as he continued to pummel his cock inside you.

"Ha~ah, took you long enough, Iggy," Prompto panted, at least sparing a glance his way before shifting his gaze back to your awaiting mouth.

Ignis cleared his throat, far too used to--and even indulging--in what was going on to truly be fazed. "Dinner should be ready in 45 minutes..." He bent down to make his way into the tent, seating himself across from where Prompto was positioned, all while making sure to not step on the chocolate bar that you had forgotten. "...in the meantime, however..."

Meticulously manicured and moisturized fingertips descended onto your skin, tracing over your breasts, the light touch leaving goosebumps in their wake, traveling all the way up to your lips, even as they remained open in welcome for Prompto's cock.

"Shall I assist you broadening your selection to help bide your hunger, darling?"

Your mouth full, you answered by reaching for his belt buckle.

Though, before he assisted in helping you remove his belt and the rest of his clothing, his gentle touch turned to a firm grasp on your wrist as he bent down to murmur in your ear, his tone stern and his breath hot, "But please keep in mind, dearest, that after dinner, we will discuss this issue of indulging in snacks before supper."

"Ooo, looks like someone's in for a spanking!" Prompto chirped with glee, even as his head tilted back with pleasure as you whimpered in response.

"Don't listen to Specs, babe. I would've kept your secret safe--especially if you shared with me," Noctis reassured while offering a kiss to the valley between your breasts.

"Shoulda shared with me, sweetie," Gladiolus chuckled while giving you a light--well, light for him--tap to your ass. "Need me to prep you for the worst?"

Whereas Ignis would've usually taken time to carefully set his belt aside, instead he just tossed it to a corner in the tent. With all the noises and from what he was able to witness while cooking outside, he too was looking to release all that he had pent-up. "There will be none of that, Gladio. Doing so will only spoil, not teach a lesson."

"Huh, well looks like you're fucked, sweetie."

As if you weren't already.

While not in the expected way however, you did end up snacking that evening as you did find satisfaction from being left completely and utterly full. The indulgence wasn't purely on your end though. With days of hunting and being too weary to really do anything else but eat--maybe a round of King's Knight--and sleep, it became very apparent that all four men had been pent-up with their desire, given by the amount of energy they were happy to expend for your sake, by how much cum they were eager to pour inside of and on you.

Rounds held no meaning at this point, as you were continuously passed along to whomever was next. As Prompto proclaimed, he was quick to replace Gladiolus once he came inside you with a low groan of satisfaction, fucking you from behind while you helplessly clung onto Ignis's shoulders as he guided you onto his cock. Despite his assurance to have your back from earlier, Noctis was rather adamant that you clean his cock--an apology for disrupting his nap from earlier. And it wasn’t long before the shield of the Crownsguard was ready to have another go with you again.

By the end of it all, you were lying in the center of the tent, breathless, dazed, but undoubtedly blissful.

The four crowded around you, admiring their work in their relentless devotion to you.

"It's amazing how photogenic you are like this," Prompto cooed with a wicked grin on his face as he snapped away.

"Send me a picture, would ya, Prompt?"

"You got it, Noct~!"

Once Prompto had his fill of photos, you then suddenly felt yourself lifted from the ground. From the encasing warmth and the sturdiness your body was against, you relaxed in Gladiolus's arms as he gingerly carried you out of the tent.

"C'mon gorgeous. Let me help you wash up."

It was a blessing that camp was set-up by a lake.

With some complimentary toiletries taken from the Leville Hotel back in Lestallum and Gladiolus insisting that he do all the work with washing you off--while easily fending off Prompto and Noctis when they joined to rinse off and also offer their assistance--you were as clean and relaxed as you were exhausted.

Ignis, having gone to first check on dinner before retreating to the lake for a wash as well, was already seated by the campfire. Though five chairs were already set out, he motioned for Gladiolus to pass you off to him.

His arms open in welcome, he eyed you with soft affection, a small smile tugging on his lips, "You've had quite the exhaustive afternoon, kitten--and we certainly didn't help on that regard. Come, sit on my lap and let me feed you."

In the sleepy tranquility that you had been lulled into, what could be better than sitting with Ignis? You could hear the complaints of Noctis and Prompto as they joined the rest of you, but his lap was much too inviting to resist. Even Gladiolus was insistent, especially with the grin that was plastered on his face.

"After all," Ignis purred against your ear after you were settled, "you'll need to get used to being on my lap for the rest of the night."

Prompto--in the middle of serving himself some of the steak that was prepared--nearly dropped his plate as his hand immediately shot up high in the air, "Ooo I want in after Iggy!"

"I'm taking turns with Prompto," Noctis declared, lifting his hand half-heartedly while taking the opportunity to nudge the vegetables on his plate onto the blonde's.

Right as he was about to take a huge bite out of his meal, Gladiolus lifted an eyebrow, pointing at the two with his meat-shanked fork, "And be the equivalent of a screen door tapping you on the way out? Sure, boys. But if a spanking's gonna be done, no one else is gonna leave an impact like me."

"This is discipline we were discussing, not a mere fetish game," Ignis sighed while pressing a hand to his temple while his other arm hugged around your waist.

You could only sigh.

Looks like you were really going to be roughing it at camp tonight.

#noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #final fantasy xv #reader insert #ffxv fanfiction #chocobros x reader #fic #super freaknasty writing #management will return in a queue minutes

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