Tumgik
#wow fanfiction
late-to-the-fandom · 2 months
Text
Daily Writing Challenge - February 2024
Throwing myself headfirst out of the moving car that is my many-months hiatus and into the roadside ditch that is writing again, I have challenged myself to write for the @daily-writing-challenge's February prompts every day this week. The goal: remember how writing - particularly finishing a piece of writing - works. These will all be snippets from Prince Renathal and companion's continued adventures in the Dragon Isles (full stories here). Will they be any good? Probably not. But they will be done (maybe).
Day 1: Flirt - 600 words, no warnings
Tumblr media
The saviour of Azeroth and the Shadowlands, champion of the Horde, former archmage and famous Maw Walker lay her weary body back against the sun-warmed grass and closed her eyes with a final, defeated sigh.
The Dark Prince raised one eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Not giving up already, are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, please,” he scoffed, pushing off the railing with a clunk of plate armour and descending the ancient stone staircase toward his motionless companion. “You cannot give up. I know you too well. You are incapable of accepting defeat.”
“First time for everything," was her petulant reply.
Renathal’s wordless disapproval was a masterful sound, full of throaty skepticism and dubiously clicking fangs. Elisewin refused to acknowledge it. Her eyes remained shut, limp arms drowned in the swaying grass, determinedly ignoring the vibrant butterflies fluttering curiously around her wild, windswept fan of dark hair.
Coming to a stop beside her would-be corpse, Renathal tried a different tact.
“An ignominious end for such an illustrious hero.” He announced the words like a eulogy, gesticulating elegantly to his audience of butterflies, who showed no obvious interest. “Imagine - grappling with gods, conquering whole armies, destroying any number of mountainous beasts, only to be beaten by -”
“It’s so stupid,” spat Elisewin suddenly from the ground. Her eyes snapped open in a blaze of blue-white fury. “It’s such a stupid, ridiculous test of an even more ridiculous practice, and I don’t see why I should have to learn it. I was perfectly happy with my old Undercity bat. Slow and steady. That thing -” She twisted her head to throw an accusatory glance at the proto-drake sniffing the bushes at the base of the nearby cliff. “It reacts to the slightest movement! I can’t even breathe without it changing direction. And it goes too fast!”
“I have never known you to mind fast. You usually request it,” remarked Renathal playfully.
Elisewin narrowed her eyes at him instead.
“Don’t flirt with me when I’m frustrated.”
Renathal laughed aloud at that. Mustering all her available dignity, Elisewin turned her face pointedly away from him and closed her eyes again.
“And I mean it. I’m done. I’ve tried sixteen times now, and I'm all over bruises. I am not trying it again. I’ll just walk everywhere.”
Wholly undaunted, Renathal swallowed the last of his laughter and fixed his tone into something that might have been mistaken for sympathy by someone who did not know him well.
“Very well, dearest, if you are certain." He stepped around her studiously still form and headed towards her waiting mount, calling behind him: “You can simply ride alongside me. I am happy to take the lead. I, personally, do not find the practice particularly taxing. Then again, I am much older, with a greater reservoir of power to draw from. You can hardly hold yourself to my standard."
A rustle of grass, a low groan, then a series of furious soft-soled footsteps assured Renathal this last hand had won. He turned expectantly, already holding out the proto-drake’s cracked leather reins. Elisewin snatched them from him. Her lavender glower as she swung one leg over the bulky creature's back only made Renathal smile.
“Ah,” he declared in affectionate triumph, propping himself against the rocky cliffside to watch his lover's seventeenth attempt. “That is the Maw Walker I know."
It was Elisewin’s turn to scoff. She wriggled uncomfortably, settling back into the saddle. Fixing her grim expression on the looming tower at the top of the cliff, she declared to the wilderness around them:
“I’d take the Maw over dragon riding any day.”
14 notes · View notes
serenums · 8 months
Text
thinking of anduin going on a special royal visit to the dragon isles since coming back from his hiatus, & of course, all five aspects are present to welcome him, including a certain black dragonflight diplomat…
wrathion is nervous because he definitely doesn’t feel like getting slapped across the face (wrathion, the prince-turned-diplomat, getting slapped by the king of the alliance in front his dragonkin?! no, way too embarrassing), but, most importantly, nervous because he wonders how his friend feels about him nowadays. it’s been too long. can he even call anduin by that title? does he even know him anymore?
months pass, & despite a few hiccups here & there (the dragon isles are old & have this tendency of making past memories, good & bad, bubble up to the surface), they build their friendship, their trust, back up again. nights passed flying over the waking shores, skiing with tuskarr children, strolls down the ancient bough…
wrathion had never truly felt home anywhere. both unwanted & misunderstood by his kin anywhere he went for, well, most of his short life. the only time he’d felt at home (or at very least, at ease) was in that quiet tavern up in the mountains of pandaria, worlds away from any person who believed they knew his heart.
& finding his friend again, a friend he met at a place he came to love, well… you couldn’t blame him for opening up his heart.
wrathion never missed a chance to explain any aspects of draconic culture to anduin. local foods (& why black dragonflight cuisine was so much better than the rest of them), the long history shared by the centaur & the green dragonflight, how to properly care for a whelp, national holidays,…
anduin always listened. as king, he was interested in how different nations built a life for themselves, & how they celebrated their history. but he loved seeing wrathion smile so big when talking about local games. or seeing his features soften when talking about black dragonflight history, recounting tales he’d heard from sabellian & onoria. memories he never lived. anduin watched his friend pour his heart out through his words, the tone of his voice betraying this bittersweet feeling of being ‘home’.
36 notes · View notes
mactiir · 4 months
Text
I have exactly one (1) person who comments on my f/f World of Warcraft oc fic and yet. Every time I post I obsessively refresh my browser for like 2 hrs to see if they have read it yet.
Jaine, if I finish this thing, I hope you know you’re the reason
10 notes · View notes
uninspired--poet · 1 year
Link
Tumblr media
“It’s only us here,” Sylvanas said, reaching out to trace a swathe of blue that seemed oddly out of place in the painting. But then, Jaina wondered if that wasn’t intentional. She’d only just noticed it when Sylvanas touched it. “I’m not a very optimistic person. I can’t make myself think like that. In uncertainties. I’ve never been very good at it.”
“That’s alright,” Jaina sighed. “Life isn’t exactly a fairytale. We’re both well aware of that.”
Jaina saw a flicker of a smile from Sylvanas as the other woman stood and walked towards the doors of the studio.
“That’s what art is for,” Sylvanas said once she was halfway across the room. “To make ugly things beautiful and beautiful things ugly. Art is for telling the truth, however terrible or breathtaking that truth might be.”
29 notes · View notes
celenacallaghan · 11 months
Link
As the Horde and Alliance prepare to march on the Wrathgate, Izzy is determined to foster the bare amount of cooperation between the two factions. An unexpected visitor doesn't change her plans until they meet face to face. A missive to Sylvanas Windrunner leads the Banshee Queen to a terrible choice: her people or her priestess?
This chapter was a bear to write, but I did it anyway, haha. I even accomplished my goal of posting before the end of the month! Thank you all for your patience, stay safe and sane, and I’ll see you next time.
12 notes · View notes
Text
I need some opinions!!
So, I'm working on the Cottagecore Sylvanas fic, and I'm doing the character art for the leads. I'm almost done with Sylvanas. But I'm running into some issues on colors.
Spoilers if you care even though the fic isn't out yet? Idk if that's an issue but I'm warning anyway.
So, I used a couple of references, I left them in the pics to help with getting opinions. I put together an outfit in line ve Nikki to kinda get the vibe with her, then I found a skin from a mobile game I liked. And her model in game.
I don't know what mix of colors looks better though? These are what I've gotten so far,
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I want some opinions on which combination has the best mix of Sylvanas vibes and cottagecore vibes. Idk if that makes any sense.
13 notes · View notes
mothervvoid · 6 months
Link
1/1ch | 1.2k wc
Diane tells a ghost story.
4 notes · View notes
heyitschartic · 3 months
Note
hello "heyits," have you read the power to manipulate belief perchance
I have! Well, I've been reading it, I haven't finished it yet. I have a bad habit of jumping between stories, so I believe I'm somewhere around the section where they start forming a village along the river.
3 notes · View notes
nadiaofazeroth · 7 months
Text
I have COMPLETELY forgotten to update here, which I apologize for, but I want to let you all know that Part 17 and Part 18 are now LIVE on our pages for Something Borrowed, Something Blue!!
I’ve linked it to Archive of Our Own because FanFiction has been glitching and broken for email notifications and such for a month (also, if you follow on FF, be sure that your email opt in is on because they turn it off every 6 months apparently).
Thank you for your patience so much everyone!
Part 17: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589713/chapters/126661831
Part 18: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589713/chapters/128038774
Tumblr media Tumblr media
6 notes · View notes
Text
Any once else love world of warcraft?
Just a piece I made of Zuljin and an oc insert that took a couple of days to complete, I absolutely love this piece and how it ended up coming out! More posts will come soon!
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
raerns · 2 years
Text
I was possessed by a Sylvaina AU idea on my way to get a haircut.
Motorsports AU - probably F1, but maybe bikes.
Does anyone know if this exists, or do I gotta write it myself?
5 notes · View notes
late-to-the-fandom · 2 months
Text
Daily Writing Challenge - February 2024
Day 3 of @daily-writing-challenge February challenge was not the fun, 30 minutes tops, carefree writing warm-up I promised myself these would be, but we got there in the end.
Day 3: Bargain - 1kish words, no warnings
Tumblr media
The name of the sanctuary was Eon's Fringe. Another time, Renathal would have found this amusing. Now, he felt unpleasantly humbled. Heavy. His mind weighed down by the day's events and the new future they offered. Or, more accurately, the new past.
Leaving Elisewin safely sleeping, he crept out of the cramped inn and back through the small haven's vined and bejeweled archway. He nodded at the defenders on guard, who returned the gesture warily, and let his feet carry him to the stairs cut into the cliff's edge, just before the temperate autumnal forestland gave way to shifting sand.
He looked up. Truly, there was nowhere else to look. The massive, hovering platform - both too far to walk to and too tantalisingly close to ignore - commanded all eyes. And all Renathal's thoughts, as well. He only realised he was sitting when a stag beetle crawled across his hand, now resting on the smooth stone step beside him. He barely registered either sensation, preoccupied as he was.
This place… that staff… the infinite possibilities… the undeniable risks…
"I know what you're thinking."
Startled from his reverie, Renathal swiveled around and found Elisewin sitting on an upper step, watching him blandly, head propped on one hand.
"I knew you would do this. Knew you wouldn't be able to let it go."
There was no reproach in her words; no disappointment, no anger. Renathal returned his gaze to the conflux and contemplated it for another moment before replying:
"Can you?"
Elisewin did not answer, but Renathal felt the hem of her robe brush against his back as she slid closer. He swallowed - his throat was very dry; exactly how long had he sat here? - then finally spoke aloud the idea that had teased, tormented him all the last day.
"You must admit, it is a prospect certainly worthy of some consideration. Imagine - being able to stop all that conflict, that chaos from happening before it ever began. If I could overthrow Denathrius before he joined forces with the Jailer, just think how much destruction could be prevented - how much ruin undone. All those souls, gone, lost for eternity, and I - I could save them all."
Only the sudden, tentative hand on his shoulder made Renathal realise how loud his voice had risen. He broke off, inhaling sharply and superfluously through his nose, and pushed back the loose hairs that had fluttered across his face during his rant.
"Renathal," said Elisewin unaffectedly, sliding down another step to tuck herself next to him on his, "you know it wouldn't be that easy. If we learned anything from today's events, it's that. You have no idea what the repercussions would be, and that's only if you actually pulled it off. Putting aside the fact the dragons would probably catch you, you don't know when to go back to - how far back Denathrius' betrayal began. And even if you did, and by some miracle you managed it, events would likely still unfold just as they have. There are too many players involved, too many moving pieces. It's - it's just ... too enormous an event to try to change."
Elisewin's tone was patient, her arguments pragmatic. Renathal had to bite back the instinct to serve her some biting retort. She was right, and he knew it; his own better sense had run through all these same irrefutable lines of reasoning. But it made the truth no easier to bear. He remained obstinately silent, eyes still fixed on the looming temporal conflux and its tempting possibilities.
Until Elisewin added hesitantly:
"On the other hand…"
Renathal glanced down at her, surprised to find her own face turned to that enticing gold horizon.
"…I know exactly where I would need to go. And when. The exact date and time." She paused, as if debating whether or not to say any more, then continued in a breathless rush," And nothing of any real importance would be altered. Elisande would still die. It would just - just be a few weeks sooner. Everything else would be the same. No one would even have to know. The only difference would be my - my sister… she would still be alive."
"You think that is an alteration of no of importance?" asked Renathal, a slightly bitter edge to his voice. "Her death is the reason we are here at all. Had she lived, there would have been no reason for you to venture into the Shadowlands. No reason to save them - to save your allies - save me. And, certainly, no reason to stay."
"You don't know that," Elisewin argued. "I might have - there - there might have been… some way…" Her hands clenched against her robes in a sudden burst of frustration. "There has to be a way - a way to do both. To save her and you. To save everyone."
Renathal recognised the notes of desperation from his own impassioned speech. He wondered if his face had looked anything like his lover's did now: almost manic as it reflected the light of the conflux's golden glow. He shifted on the step until he was looking directly at her.
"There is... much we might save," Renathal admitted slowly. "And there is much at stake. If we managed to succeed, we risk... this moment. This existence. Is it worth it?"
He asked the question as much of Elisewin as himself.
A beat of silence pulsed between them, heavy with the memories of the last few, impossibly precious years. Then Elisewin, too, tore her eyes from the conflux and reached for Renathal's hand.
"No," she said fiercely, and gripped him like a lifeline. "No. No, it's not. Nothing is."
Some tumultuous emotion rose in Renathal's throat, and he found himself leaning in just as Elisewin looked up. Their lips met halfway. For a time that mattered more for its meaning than its minutes, they simply sat, anchoring each other to the present.
Elisewin broke first, pulling away just enough to meet Renathal's eyes.
"We need to make a pact," she said hoarsely. "A - a promise. To each other. That neither of us is going to - to run off later and - and try."
Renathal's eyebrows quirked in surprise - promises were something Elisewin very rarely offered.
"I will if you will," he agreed.
It took her a few seconds, and a deep, shuddering breath, but at last-
"I promise," she said.
Renathal nodded solemnly.
"Then, so do I."
Elisewin's smile was shaky, but her hands were not as she reached for Renathal's face and pressed her lips to his again. This was less kiss than confirmation, but no less meaningful for it. Bargain thus sealed, they sat, nestled silently together, breathing in each other's presence and the warm, tree-scented air. Then Renathal, suddenly as exhausted as if they fought some prolonged and devastating battle, stood up, pulling Elisewin with him, and together they put their backs to any other possibilities and began to climb the stairs.
9 notes · View notes
serenums · 8 months
Text
— star lake, star eyes
Kalecgos and Wrathion have been busy as of late. Between blue dragonflight reunions and black dragonflight diplomacy, the two unlikely friends barely have any time for fun, or rest. Well, except when Kalecgos drags Wrathion to the middle of nowhere in Azure Span. On horseback.
i’ve been wanting to write a kalethion fic in this landscape for so long!! maybe you’ll recognize the place. the dragonscale expedition sometimes has a raft catalogue quest there. also apologies for mistakes lol i wrote this in under an hour. enjoy 🌟 also on ao3!
‘And remind me of why we’re here again?’
‘I told you, this is my special spot. I’ve gotta show it to you!’
Wrathion sighed at how enthusiastic Kalecgos was to show him this ‘spot’. Not that he was annoyed by him, but he was quite busy, you know. Between his new job as the black dragonflight diplomat, getting acquainted with a land he barely knew, and helping the Aspects rebuild the Dragon Isles, Wrathion was frankly pretty overwhelmed by it all. He never had any time left for rest.
Maybe getting dragged to the middle of nowhere in the Azure Span wasn’t such a bad idea after all, he thought, a soft smile drawing itself on his face.
Kalecgos subtly turned his head as best as he could while riding next to his friend, noticing his change in expression. Kalecgos was relieved to know Wrathion wasn’t really as irritated as he tried to look.
Their horses walked on the crunchy snow, the noise turning into a lullaby for Kalecgos. He stuck out his neck to feel the cold air bite on his skin. It was charged with arcane magic and its sting felt like soft electric shocks to him. He always loved spending time in the Azure Span. Or anywhere ripe with magic, really. He felt right at home.
Wrathion wasn’t feeling so peaceful, and turned to his friend, willing to say anything just to break the silence, but he caught himself upon seeing Kalec’s face. Eyes closed, head back, hair flying. All blues & glitter skin, though not any shinier than the snow itself. Just shiny enough that you could see the light get caught on that impossibly pale skin. ‘He looks like he’s never seen the sun,’ Wrathion chuckled, and so did Kalec, and he quickly blushed, realizing he spoke outloud.
‘That much is true. I’ve never been one for summer season. There’s too much heat! I prefer winter a hundred times over,’ Kalec said.
‘I can’t agree,’ Wrathion replied, brushing over the embarrassing moment that’d just ocurred. ‘I love the sun. To feel it warm up my scales, & have the wind cool it off while I fly, it’s just… so very freeing.’ Kalecgos saw him smile, and he thought Wrathion should definitely smile more. It suits him.
He paused, as if lost in thought, and Kalec picked up the conversation. ‘Well, I’m sorry, but that is simply not what you’ll be getting today,’ he said, a light tone to his words.
‘Clearly…’ Wrathion grumbled, and Kalec laughed. Another blush on Wrathion’s face…
‘S-so what is it about this snowy, cold place that you like, anyway? This better be about spotting a rare yeti…’
‘Even better…’
And a soft tingle sound filled Wrathion’s ears as they approached the spot. Bell chimes mixed with magic pitter-pattering in the air, entering his lungs as he breathed in deep. Kalecgos was right to have insisted on travelling by horse instead of flying over. He wouldn’t risk anyone else finding this place either.
Up on a mountain top, lilac and magenta flowers were littered around the cloudy waters of the lake. Crystals and gems sprouted from the lake’s shores, a sign of arcane life. There were trees that looked like pinetrees but not quite, as if transformed by the magic nearby. Wrathion couldn’t tell if the stars in the sky were a reflection of the bright, scintillating lake, or vice-versa.
‘It’s… breathtaking.’ Wrathion stared at the landscape, mouth agape. But Kalecgos stared at him, glad to see his friend appreciate a place that was so important to him.
‘How did you even find it?!’ Wrathion exclaimed loudly, his usual fiery demeanor back.
‘I was surveying the land, to see if everything was alright. I found it by coincidence, and have been coming here ever since. When I need time away from the Archives…’ He trailed off. They got off their horses, walked to the dock, and had sat down while talking.
‘I can see why you like this place, now. A little retreat opportunity from the responsibilities of being an Aspect, I suppose.’
Kalec sighed despite himself. He wasn’t one to talk about his troubles, but the lake was so relaxing to his mind, and Wrathion’s voice sounded so soft.
‘Exactly. It can get… overwhelming. I appreciate that Sindragosa is willing to help me every step of the way, of course I am— but I feel like… Sometimes, I think Sindragosa tries to remake the past, through me…’
Wrathion stared at him, patiently waiting for him to continue.
‘I know I’ve got a lot of work to do, if I want to restore our flight to its true power and history, and purpose. I just feel a bit lost, sometimes. Sindragosa knows so much, and I feel the gap between our experiences everytime we talk. It’s hard to not— to not, well…’ Kalecgos sighed. He didn’t want to say the words. He was scared that they’d be real if he did.
‘…to what?’ Wrathion prompted.
‘To feel like an impostor.’
A pause.
‘Like I have no place here. Like I’m just pretending to be what the blue dragons need. Like even if I work hard, and read every book that exists in those Archives, that I’ll still be lightyears behind Sindragosa, or Senegos. Or, well… whatever older blue dragon is still alive…’
Wrathion had the good conscience of not mentioning that, technically, Sindragosa wasn’t alive, from what he understood when Kalec told him about it.
He wanted to say so much. That he was, frankly, quite stupid for even thinking that way. That Kalec was probably the most knowledgeable wizard there ever was. That the blue dragonflight hadn’t been this united in hundreds of years. But he paused. And he looked at him. He knew Kalecgos. He knew he needed silence to gather his thoughts. Much unlike Wrathion, who preferred to say whatever thought came to him. But this wasn’t about him, so, he waited.
The sound of water hitting against rocks & crystals surrounded them. And after a few minutes, Kalec spoke up.
‘I’m sorry.’
Wrathion blinked.
‘What on earth would you be sorry for?!’ He blurted out.
‘I… know this sounds like I’m ungrateful for the fact that I became an Aspect, but I swear that’s not the case. And I know that being an Aspect is —was, —well it still is, something that’s very important to you, and I know you probably wouldn’t complain about it the way I am right now, but I swear—’
‘Kalecgos.’
He stopped, and looked over to Wrathion. Had his complaints angered him? Or had Wrathion not noticed that Kalec was acting ungrateful before he’d pointed it out, and now he was angry? What if—
‘What if you allowed yourself a moment of reprieve? You’re the first leader the blue dragonflight’s had in so, so, very long. You managed to reunite scattered blue dragons from all across Azeroth. You’ve got siblings and cousins that admire and respect you simply for who you are.’ Wrathion’s fire red eyes betrayed the soft tone of voice he adopted. He clearly felt very strongly about the words he was saying.
Kalecgos blinked, taken aback. His heart skipped a beat when Wrathion got closer to him and reached for his hand.
‘You are exactly who your people need right now.’
Kalecgos stared at him, surprised. Wrathion held his gaze.
Kalecgos chuckled, and Wrathion’s valiant demeanor broke, leaving place to confusion, and, honestly, embarrassment.
‘What, what is it? Why are you laughing?’ His cheeks were as red as his eyes now. ‘I demand to know what makes you laugh like this!’
Kalecgos was smiling from ear to ear. To think a whelp like him would be the one to give him the courage he needed to be who he wanted to be—needed to be, more so than the all-knowing simulacrum currently living at the Azure Archives… He admired Wrathion’s attitude. He always seemed so fearless, no matter the obstacle in front of him. Suddenly Kalecgos felt the crystal tingles and bell chimes deep in his belly.
‘Wrathion. I…’
Red eyes & red cheeks were staring at him. But his lips weren’t red enough to his liking. Should they? Should he?
Wrathion seemed to agree. He kissed Kalec, and pulled back, a determined look to his face, even though he seemed quite surprised with himself for doing what he did.
Wrathion always seemed to be one step ahead of him, somehow. But he was the one person he didn’t mind following.
13 notes · View notes
battybattybattybat · 2 months
Text
Thanks for the suggestion, @alaskanffa !
The Great Pandaren Banquet
It had been nearly a decade since Aerin had set foot in Pandaria. Hetty, the premier gossip of Dalaran, had assumed that something terrible, painful, too tragic to speak of had happened, and in a way she was right.
That was where she’d met the first man she’d ever loved, and where he stayed. He’d never loved her, and never would. What was there to return to but painful memories?
As it turns out, there were old friends there too. Her sister from another mister, her friend ‘til the end, and the sweetest woman she’d ever met, Bo Yi, was getting married.
Finally! She wasn’t sure why Li Feng had taken so long to propose to her girlfriend, but she had at long last and here Aerin was. The mage had arrived through a long disused spell and been welcomed to a full weekend of wedding festivities.
Aerin had forgotten how much Pandarans partied and feasted. The first night was a vast dinner hosted by Bo Yi’s family, the next by Li Feng’s, and the wedding was held on the third night. She’d given a speech at the reception that left grandmas gracefully weeping into their silk hankies, she’d danced with Bo’s older brother, she’d met Bo and Li’s new friends and impressed them and been impressed in turn and the wedding had been lovely, goodbye, farewell, until we meet again, and just then, just when she turned around to leave, the worst happened: *oh by the gods why did Bo Yi invite him? And why hadn’t she warned me?
And when had he gotten so big?*
Chou Barrelheart was wearing exquisitely embroidered emerald robes — he’d always had a taste for finery — that fit him well, and did nothing to obscure the vast slope of his belly, the rolling hills of his chest, the wide plateau of his backside. He’d always been big, but whatever he’d been eating had clearly agreed with him. He was immense.
Aerin wondered if he’d gotten married. If some lucky woman — was she Human, like her? Pandaren like him? A Dwarf? An Elf? Whoever she was, Aerin hated her — was filling his belly at the table every night and warming his bed afterward.
Hate was too weak a word. And yet, she knew she couldn’t hate this blessed woman. Aerin hadn’t left because he cared for someone else — she left because he didn’t care for *her*.
The party was winding down already, surely she could slip out without speaking to him.
Unfortunately, his keen perception hadn’t changed, unlike his other obvious differences. The same instincts that had saved the both of them dozens of times from Mogu and Mantid and wild animals and sometimes just ordinary old assholes, ready to stab and steal, now put Aerin at the center of his attention.
His gaze landed on her from across the banquet hall just as she said farewell to Mrs. Hearthbrew. His forehead wrinkled under his cream and cocoa fur, and his bright hazel eyes grew wide. Was — was that a look of panic?
*That’s my cue*, she thought. *Go, go, go. Make a Drustvarian goodbye. Flee before I embarrass myself further.*
She departed quickly, her pace a polite sprint, nodding and beaming with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes to everyone on your way out. All of her attention was on her feet, the last thing she needed was to trip and fall, so that she didn’t see the soft, green wall of silk ahead of her until she ran face-first into it.
Right into his big, round belly.
“By the Light, I never thought I’d see you again,” he breathed.
Aerin donned a polite smile, the best one she could at short notice. “Well, I won’t be here for long! I better be on my way. Good to see you.” Being rude would only make things more uncomfortable. Best to be blandly polite.
“I was an idiot,” he blurted out as you attempted to round his girth. “I was a damned idiot and I’ve missed you every day since you stepped on that boat.”
She’d imagined something like this, of course. She’d dreamed of it, over and over, until she’d forgotten the dream, forgotten the hope, and now, years later, it rose like a seedling out of decay. She paused at his side, his vast, squeezable side, layered in soft tiered rolls, just to think.
“Do you mean that?”
Chou turned to face her, or rather, to swing his roundness toward her. His gut swayed under his silk when he stopped. All Aerin could think about was that drooping swag of underbelly. From here, it looked much larger than it had been the last time you saw him. “I do. I haven’t even gone on a date with anyone else in ten damn years. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
Her hand floated up, feeling a little numb, and drifted of its own accord over to the swell of his full gut. A quiet gurgle sounded as it churned over the wedding banquet, rich food digesting in a belly obviously accustomed to richness.
Years ago, she had spent hours stuffing and massaging this belly, gazing into his eyes and telling him how handsome and strong he looked, how comforting it was in his arms, how beloved he was in her heart. The cocoa-colored mane of fur on his head now had a few streaks of gray, and he was much bigger, but the way she felt when her fingertips brushed his quivering tum, the way he sharply inhaled, all those felt like no time had passed at all.
He was perfect. He was huge. He was hers, at last.
“Prove it.”
***
Chou looked over his belly to the plate of hot cinnamon buns. “These are new.”
“I’ve been studying,” she said smugly. Unlike him, she had tried to date again. It never worked out, but over the course of a few eager, hungry men she had learned how to make more than just dry mana buns. She couldn’t make anything other than “bread”, but apparently arcane energy understood that to include so many delicious treats: cakes, pastries, muffins, buns, cookies, anything floury and carb-laden and delicious. Often quite sugary too.
And tonight, she’d had the pleasure of making all of them for the fattest man of any species you’d ever known. Even that deliciously obese Draenei you’d dated in Theramore couldn’t hold a candle to the new layers of fat that Chou had added over the years. His gut was subtly tear-drop shaped, and hung between his thick, well-padded thighs. Bulging rolls, visible under the fine silk, graced his knees and elbows, and his chest was blessed with large, pillowy moobs. It was hard to draw her eyes from his magnificent body, especially when he softly quivered with every movement.
He reached for the pale ale to wash it down – more carbs, she noted with glee. “I can taste every hour of concentration,” he teased, then did the sweetest thing: he opened his mouth for more.
“That’s the last of the cinnamon buns, what would you like next?”
“Pork buns,” he said, grinning. “Can you make pork buns?”
Well, she certainly couldn’t make animal flesh, but there was a type of protein she’d had once that was made of wheat gluten. Would that be another type of flour? She thought so… or hoped so. “It’s been an age since I’ve had one. Describe it to me, remind me of what it should taste like.”
Chou wiggled in his seat and rested his paws on the sides of his belly, thoughtfully giving himself a jiggle as he pondered the ideal pork bun. “Well, the sauce for the pork must be the perfect blend of savory, salty, and just a bit of sweet.” He licked his chops and paused. “Maybe a bit more sweet, as you’re making them just for me. And the dough must be as soft and fluffy on my tongue as it is in my stomach. I have to be able to eat as many of them as possible.”
“To enjoy the flavor?”
“That, and, more simply, I just like eating.” Chou grinned, quite pleased with himself and his appetite. “And I *really* like the fire in your eyes when you watch me eat.”
Aerin pursed her lips, but didn’t deny it. “And is that all you like about me?”
His grin faded, his eyes grew tender. “No. I like the way you study everything, magic, food, even people. The way you care. The funny look you get on your face just before you laugh.” He bit his lower lip, adorable fanged teeth on full display. “Is my belly all you like about me?”
She shook your head, but said, “I can’t really be sure. It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with you.”
He winced. “I deserve that. Perhaps we can spend some time together while you’re here?”
“What do you think we’re doing now?” His grimace softened, then disappeared as Aerin held her hands up. Eerie blue light shimmered from between your palms, and in a moment, a steaming pork bun sat in her hand. “Try this and let me know how it is.”
He leaned forward to receive it, and closed his eyes as he chewed. He hummed in pleasure, and swallowed before opening them again. “By the Jade Serpent, that was perfect! That was fried gluten in place of pork, wasn’t it?”
She shrugged with feigned modesty, but smirked. “It was.”
“I almost forgot how much I loved it when you surprised me.” He leaned forward again. “Would you feed me more, please?”
“How many more?” she asked slyly, feeling powerful, desired, and more aroused than she’d been in years.
Chou took your hand and pressed it to the engorged curve of his upper belly, allowing her – no, making her feel how full he was, how fat his tum had grown. His eyes sparkled when he answered, “As many as you can make.”
Blue light danced on the walls of the humble inn, flickering in Chou’s eyes. He opened his mouth, again and again, for his little mage.
Aerin conjured more and more, neatly placing each batch on the side table before popping them, one by one, into Chou’s waiting mouth. With every delivery of fatty, sweet, salty goodness she leaned into him a little more. At first, her breasts merely brushed his silken robe, then his moobs and her bosom swept against each other with every motion, then she sank into the precious softness of his belly.
When she moved, he winced. “That’s right,” she cooed with deceptive sweetness. “We just came from a wedding banquet, didn’t we?”
Chou nodded and covered his mouth, belching. She leaned in harder, feeling a satisfying wickedness in her actions, and another belch erupted from him. His eyes widened, “Sorry! Yes, we did. I suppose I’m more full than I realized.”
“What did you eat?” Her hips ground against his plush fat, summoning more gurgles and eruptions from his gut. “Tell me everything that’s filling this belly.”
He shut his eyes, wincing. “Many, many vegetarian pork rolls that you made, oh, and emperor salmon, Mogu fish stew, wildfowl, oh, they served spring rolls before the banquet, crystal noodles with shrimp, I had some skewers of beef before leaving for the wedding…” He went on and on, a litany of eating that had begun this morning and built to a crescendo of gluttony through the wedding, reaching its peak, here with Aerin and her never-ending supply of bread.
Her body was pressed against his, her lips inches away from his mouth as he continued. He’d eaten so much, so damn much, and he didn’t seem that full. Anyone else would have been in a food coma hours ago, but he still licked his lips. Aerin felt hungry for him and devoured him with her eyes. He was so soft, so huge. She wanted to stuff his belly round, until he begged her to stop, or, perhaps, begged for more, begged her to stay and keep feeding him.
“And I think that’s everything,” he said.
“Everything,” she said with a genuine laugh. “I think you really did eat everything!” Her hips rocked against his swollen belly, and he tried to belch subtly again. “How much food does it take to really fill you up? To stuff you until you can’t manage another bite?”
Chou opened his eyes at last, and blinked in surprise to see how close she was to him. He froze under her gaze, his heart pounding in his padded chest. Aerin could feel it thumping, and pressed herself even closer. “A lot,” he said quietly. “I don’t know exactly how much, but even more than this.”
Aerin bit her lip and groaned. “Can we find out?” she asked. Her voice was low and husky, yearning, hungry.
His big belly grumbled, a low growl fading to a high whine. Neither could look away from the other, their eyes locked in a burning need for each other, and to see Chou too full to move. Finally, he found his voice again. “Aerin… please feed me.”
An interlude with a pandaren
He was the fattest man Aerin had ever been with. Long ago, she had loved exploring all the unique ways his body piled on weight, not that he’d gained that much back then. There had been such serious matters going on around them that stuffing him was much lower on their list of priorities than they would have liked. Now, he threw his fine robe aside and she got to see the body she’d always wondered about.
He lived up to his last name, expanding evenly in all directions. Aerin was delighted to see how fat his rear had become, remarkably round and firm. His belly was the opposite, hanging and flabby, wobbling like jelly with his breath. His chest was broad, as were his shoulders, and even broader with the inches of fat he added. Heavy breasts rested on his gut, and his dark nipples were stiff, visible through his fur. His arms had muscle underlying the layers of pillowy lard, and bunched with every movement. He was perfect, and more lovely than she ever could have imagined.
She stepped, or perhaps lunged forward, burning to touch him and reacquaint herself with his body. The sweetness of the sigh he exhaled at her touch stirred her even more.
Human men —or, remembering a deliciously obese Draenei who’d shared her bed a few months ago, any furless man — who grew to tremendous sizes acquired a unique fragility to their skin. It drew her in, she always wanted to care for, pamper, and adore those precious plump folds, kissable, vulnerable.
For Chou, his fuzzy coat protected his delicate flesh. His rolls slid atop each other with a soft rasp of his thick, silky fur. Across his chest and belly it was the color of fresh cream, which changed to dark and milk chocolate patches along his back, shoulders and limbs. The way the pattern framed his roundness seemed designed to enhance his fatness, to draw her eye, then her hand, to the thickest, softest parts of him. His discarded robe fell across her bed at the inn. It was so voluminous she could use it as a blanket – but she’d rather have him.
Every inch of him was new and yet poignantly familiar. On the hang of his gurgling, fatter belly, his fur thinned to a velvety whisper under her palms. He gasped at her gentle touch. “Aerin, sweetness,” he whimpered, lying back on the bed, surrendering to her.
“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full,” she chided him.
“But my mouth isn’t – oh.” Chou sounded sheepish and dutifully popped a braided sweet roll between his lips.
“I ask so little,” she teased, and knelt between his knees. With one arm, she braced the heavy bulge up to reveal his thighs and loins. His pale pink skin blushed under the coat of cream, which deepened and thickened over the swollen fat pad obscuring his member. Under Aerin’s eyes, it hardened and peeked out from under that heavy bulge.
“Oh, hello, lover,” she cooed in delight, and dove in to taste him. He moaned and pawed at his belly, jiggling its volatile contents in a soothing rocking motion. She labored under the heavy weight of his immense tummy, her face smushed into his pillowy fat pad, making her own blissful sounds. Her sex ached to be touched, but she needed both hands to pleasure her fat, furry man.
Aerin pulled one of his thick calves between her thighs and ground her hips against it. His scent, spicy, warm, with a base note of earth and wood, filled her nose while his cock filled her mouth. He was so huge, filling her senses and, damn it, her heart. It felt right for her to be here with him, doing this.
No, this was about pleasure, she said sternly to herself. Her heart needed to stay out of this.
“I need to ride you, Chou,” she said, pushing herself up from the floor. He turned his head towards her, chewing the latest bun. She beckoned to him, “Give me the plate, let me feed you.”
He nodded eagerly and shifted on the bed to help hold his belly off his fat pad. “Will you… will you take your robe off?” Chou’s voice was almost timid. “I’d love to see your body, Aerin. You are the loveliest woman I’ve ever known.”
She hesitated. Part of her wanted to say no – the wounded part she was desperately to ignore – but the rest cried an enthusiastic yes. She wanted his soft fur tickling her nipples, his fat rolls warming her thighs and belly, her bare breasts cupped by his plump, strong hands. With shaking fingers she unlaced her robe starting with the narrow bodice. It fell down around her, revealing her corset, bloomers, and stockings.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he gasped, his claws sinking into his flesh with excitement. “Your breasts look even bigger than I remembered.”
“Funny,” she smirked, now untying her corset laces. “All of you looks bigger than I remembered.” He grinned at her and opened his mouth, cuing her to feed him.
“Poor fat bear,” she teased. “Too fat to sit up and feed himself, he needs someone to do it for him.” Naked, she crawled onto him, swinging one round, sturdy thigh across him to straddle his prone bulk. Aerin nudged her knees under the heavy spread of his belly, and stretched over the swollen expanse to stuff him further.
Chou nobly ignored her banter and chewed the bun quickly. “More, please.”
Aerin giggled. It was a much larger stretch than it had once been to ride and feed him at the same time. “Chou, I might need both hands to hold onto you.” The plate wobbled in his belly, his whole body rippled with motion every time either of them moved. Her breath caught in her throat.
He looked down at her, over the plump mounds of his chest, chin rolls mashing together, and arched his eyebrow. “I thought you wanted me fatter, Aerin, what’s wrong?” A wicked smirk snuck across his face. He wiggled, making her squeak with laughter.
“Hmf,” Aerin said, trying to seem haughty even as she rocked on her cushiony seat. “I’ll trust you to keep eating.” Her small hands, sturdy and strong, pushed at his belly and fat pad before she sank down onto his cock with a blissful sigh. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she groaned out the most guttural, primal, inelegant sound she’d ever made. His member, though buried in his plush fat pad, was as thick as the rest of him, stretching her out and making her gasp. She ground her hips on him, rubbing herself like a cat against his luscious blubber.
“Jade fucking serpent,” moaned Choi through a full mouth.
Aerin’s eyes were shut tight, surrendering to the marvelous sensations rippling through her body. She hadn’t the wit to banter, or the interest. Every mote of her being was wrapped up in riding her fat bear.
“Plate’s empty,” Chou grunted, then whimpered a little pathetically. “Belly’s full. So full…”
Her lips split into a wide grin. “How full, Chou?”
She could hear the answering smile in his voice. “So full! Couldn’t fit another bite in me.” He belched as if to punctuate how stuffed he was. “I feel like my stomach is being stretched. I want to eat like this every day, girl cub.”
“Everyday?” Her voice was throatier and hoarser.
“I want you to feed me until I can’t budge, sweetness.” Choi’s voice rasped, a hitch in his breath interrupting himself. “I’m so bloated, so damn full, little owl, you’re going to make me so fat!”
The pet name, his glee in his gluttony, the touch of his jiggling, soft body, all roiled in Aerin’s body and she sank her fingernails into his plush sides and buried her face in his belly. Her body shook with pleasure, her core squeezing his cock until he filled her with his seed.
She collapsed in a happy, sweaty puddle on Choi’s soft belly. His breath slowed, his hands slid over her body to rest on her back. The tips of his nails gently tickled her skin. “Incredible,” Chou said quietly.
Aerin stayed quiet for a moment longer. “Did you mean everything you said?” Her smaller body was still and tense.
Chou slid his huge paws under her arms and dragged her up his body to look her in the eye. “Every single word. I’ve missed you for ten years. I’ve wanted to be fed by you.”
“How can you be sure?”
He made a moue of frustration. “I was still a boy then, and I was scared. Too proud to admit it, but I was scared of everything. You. Love. Having a future and having no future. War was the thing I feared least then. It was life that scared me.”
“And now?”
He pressed his muzzle of her temple, and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her against his plush softness. “The only thing I fear now is losing you again.”
Aerin could feel his body stiffen every second that she silently pondered her reply. She twined her fingers in the fur in her chest and slipped her arms around his neck. They lay, quietly gazing into each other’s eyes before a silly smirk burst on her face. She kissed his cheek and a little smirk curved her full lips, “Then you’ve no fear at all, my fat bear. You’re only ever a portal away.”
1 note · View note
uninspired--poet · 1 year
Link
Tumblr media
“It's still your turn,” Sylvanas said, and it sounded like a dare to Jaina.
“Okay,” Jaina said, drawing in a deep breath. “Earlier when I asked who made you feel that way, was your deflection on purpose?”
“Yes,” Sylvanas said without much hesitation. “At times I find it disconcerting how much you discern from my behavior. I feel like maybe you didn't exclusively study business, and it scares me.”
“I double-majored in psychology. Does that scare you?” Jaina asked, and Sylvanas continued playing with the paint-stained scrap of cloth she’d dragged back to herself across the table.
“It terrifies me,” Sylvanas admitted, her voice so quiet Jaina almost didn't hear her.
31 notes · View notes
celenacallaghan · 7 months
Text
Desi aides in cleanup after the Wrathgate and learns just how frustrating the group known as "people" can be. Izzy agrees.
This chapter was a nightmare to get out. The balance between pacing and falling action was fun. But the chapter is up and exciting stuff is coming next time ^^ Reunion tiiiiime <3 <3 Thanks so much everyone, stay safe and sane, and I'll see you next time!
5 notes · View notes