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songofsoma · 2 years

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BALDUR’S GATE 3

Karlach x F!Tav

All Roads Lead to You

one two three four

To Know Her, Body and Soul (NSFW)

The Hands That Heal

Until You See Stars (NSFW)

Sleepless (NSFW)

Take Her Apart (NSFW)

Beloved

A Very Nice Dream (NSFW)

Shadowheart x F!Tav

Where Anyone Could See (NSFW)

Bound to Me (NSFW)

Lae’zel x F!Tav

A Dirty Way to Win (NSFW)

Minthara x F!Tav

Worship of the Godless (NSFW)

Mizora x Reader

Deal With a Devil (NSFW)

Jaheira x Reader

A Lesson Learned (NSFW)

Dame Aylin x Isobel Thorm

Under the Light of Her Moon

THE WAYHAVEN CHRONICLES

Ava du Mortain x F!Detective

Safe With You

You Are Everything

Always Yours

Lucky

A Reminder of You

A Night With You (NSFW)

My Mellilla

Her Undoing

Abyssal Heart

Her Pale Knight

Chasing Nightmares

I'm Here

Genesis

Tendrils of Honey

You on My Mind (NSFW)

Undone (NSFW)

A Test of Strength [ for @aelwen ]

Five More Minutes

A Touch of a Temptress

Kiss Me Goodbye

Beg (NSFW)

To Protect You [ for @aelwen ]

Upon an Eternal Moon

Counting Scars

Biting Words (NSFW)

Vulnerable

Acts of Love

Under the Mistletoe

Call of Midnight

Empty Beds and Wanting Hearts (NSFW in first part)

All You Need is Love (And Salt)

A Little Reward (NSFW)

A Wish to be Loved

Adam du Mortain x F!Detective

Everything [ for @ladiemars ]

Until Death [ for @ladiemars]

Nate Sewell x F!Detective

Northern Star [ for @pixelnights ]

Prompts (mixed pairings)

a clumsy kiss [ for @pixelnights ]

come back here right now [ for @rosejellyy ]

bloody kiss [ for @ladiemars ]

kissing in the stairwell

do you want this

kisses that start from the fingers

a kiss that trails down the jaw

THE EXILE

Syfyn Javall x F!Commander

Light of a Guiding Star

Where We Stand

Touch (NSFW)

ASSASSIN'S CREED VALHALLA

F!Eivor x Soma

A Waking Dream

F!Eivor x Randvi

My Drengr

No Lone Wolves

Divinity is the Shape of a Woman

Ice-Kissed

ASSASSIN'S CREED ODYSSEY

Kassandra x Reader

The Eagle and the Sparrow

Sea Maiden

part 1

part 2

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bonesif · 2 years

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Not his Syfyn.

The exile (@exilethegame)

Syfyn Javall x Atlas Akrosa (werewolf commander)

Word count: 1094

Warnings: angst, descriptions of blood

AO3 link

Atlas's anger and the wall Syfyn has built around herself— an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object. The tension of their past relationship and the unspoken hurt between the two weighs heavy in the air. And Atlas has never been one to let the elephant in the room have its peace.

A rusty little one shot for a game I'm definitely not hyperfixated on. Angsty scene that takes place in the storage room.

─────────

"You..." he rolls his parched lips together, wetting them. "You've barely looked at me since I've been here."

He's staring at a mask. A literal one, painted mixed colors by the stained glass perched over them. Syfyn's grey eyes peer back at him from behind it, all familiar and beautiful and wrong at the same time. Just like the rest of Plathius. But none of the untouched rooms of his childhood, the judgment and hateful gazes and fear of palace guards could ever cut quite as deep as the woman facing him a step away.

Three years and Atlas can still read Syfyn better than anyone, privy to the tension in her shoulders; the rigidity in her posture and the way she bristles at his words. When she's uncertain, she falls back on her duty. It's always been like that. She followed her orders like a model soldier should, even when they led her places she dreads. Except with me, he thinks, except when I bent the rules, then buries the thought deep within him.

Behind her dedication to orders, it's clear to him that she doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want him here.

"Did all of it mean nothing to you?" He prods at her indifference, too stubborn and never one to let the elephant in the room have its peace. Do I mean nothing to you?

Dust filters through the rich mirage of light between them.

Syfyn breaks his gaze, eyes set on the glass casing around his old armor. She's met with the eyeless stare of a white wolf pelt. She doesn't dare let her eyes wander to the daggers glinting from where they're displayed.

"Talon and fang. You know, it's like the two of us." Atlas's foot comes out to nudge her beneath the table, a crooked smile tugging at his lips until his gums peek out. He's waiting for her to say he's an idiot.

She just stares, confusion and endearment sinking into her blank expression. "Why?"

Her feet are moving before she registers it, tense wings nearly knocking into Atlas as she passes.

"So you'll always be at my side. No matter what happens out there." He looks much too proud of himself, leaning an elbow on the dark wood and flashing one blade just under his warm brown eyes. "So. Do you hate it?"

She feels like everyone in the room can see her, a warmth seeping into her cheeks that isn't leftover from baking in the sun. Her arms draw closer to herself, and she knows she's going to kick him back as soon as she admits it.

"No."

Syfyn reaches the door again, grip biting into the handle. She forces the memories down as heavily as she swings it open, hard enough that a gust disturbs her feathers.

Atlas's gaze burns into her back.

"What, you can't even talk to me?"

It's not a question, not really. It's a statement. An accusation, broiling in Atlas's throat long before it leaves his tongue.

Syfyn says nothing from where she stands. She just holds the door with such perfect stillness she could've been cut from marble. Like he's not even there.

The message is clear. We're done here. I'm not doing this right now.

It makes him restless, fists clenching so hard they form white half moons across his knuckles. Frustration and anger and pain bubble out of him, left standing alone by the cold glass case of his past. It burns like acid, threatening to eat away at him and spill out all at once.

His words come out soft and harsh and tender altogether as he says, "you know I never would've left you there, alone in a cell."

He's staring at the solid form of her back in utter silence and he wants nothing more than for her to look at him again with that smile so warm it rivaled her sunburnt cheeks— just like when they were kids, then comrades, then something more. He wants her to call him an idiot, to dare him to do things he couldn't possibly be stupid enough to do and laugh until her sides stitch when he does it. He wants her to criticize his messy clothes again. He wants her to apologize, or to tell him she misses him, or that she hates him. He wants her to look at him.

Syfyn was never so quiet around him. He can still remember it, that side of her when duty and orders were removed. How could he ever forget it?

Not The Brazen Griffin. Not Plathius's second in command.

His Syfyn. Gold would never be warm enough for what he saw in her. It was all the things he was missing now, the things he'd ruined.

There's a hollow feeling in his stomach threatening to make him feel something heavier than anger but no, no, no.

Days go by. No one comes. All Atlas can do is stare at the walls and try not to feel the blood still caked to his skin. It's under his nails. It's on his arms, his chest, dried into the fabric of his clothes. He smells it. He's tasted it. He can't tell how much of it is his, where his wounds end and his crimes begin.

No one to talk to, no place to clean the blood off his hands. No way to know if she's okay—

And now it's Atlas that can't look at Syfyn. His stomach churns and he feels he could be sick.

Not that, anything but that.

He can't bear to feel the guilt, the loneliness, the hurt he's chased away for three long years. Those things weigh heavy when they settle into your bones. They threaten to shut you down. He doesn't think he'd get back up if he fell into it now, doesn't think he ever would've in those years he spent on his own. Doesn't think he can live without his anger patched over it.

Atlas swallows hard and settles instead on bitter.

His footsteps are the only sound in the storage room, approaching until they settle right beside her. Not his Syfyn, not Sy, not Javall.

"You were going to the training field." Her words come out rigid, forced.

Atlas hisses a breath out between clenched teeth, not sure if he's angry or just disappointed.

"Right."

He doesn't wait when she pivots to shut the door, clicking every lock safely in place. And perhaps it's for the best as she catches her breath, hands trembling in the shadow of her body.

#syfyn javall #mc: atlas #syfyn javall x atlas akrosa #mc talk #fic #mine #exile the game #the exile game #if: the exile #syfyn javall x the commander

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syfynjvall · 3 years

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the commander x syfyn

claire legrand, kingsbane // brandon sanderson, the final empire // emily brontë, wuthering heights // taylor swift, my tears ricochet // shannon. l alder // loki (2021) // lord huron, the night we met // taylor swift, my tears ricochet // claire legrand, kingsbane

#i was in my feelings Big time today fellas #exile the game #syfyn javall #commander x syfyn

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songofsoma · 2 years

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Light of a Guiding Star

fandom: the exile (@exilethegame) pairing: syfyn javall x f!commander words: 1,495 rating: teen

read it on ao3

Some nights were worse than others. That was something Syfyn had come to realize about Corvinnia as weeks on the road turned into months. She could always tell by how restless Corvinnia was. Whether it was staying up for yet another shift on watch or pacing around their small camp to find any relief, Syfyn knew the tell-tale signs by now.

She had known they had taken her wings. They had mutilated her in ways she couldn’t imagine—that she tried not to imagine. The very thought of having something that was a part of her very being made Syfyn sick and reach back to brush over the soft feathers of the wings tucked against her back.

Corvinnia no longer slept on her back. That was what she noticed when they spent that first night on the road all those weeks ago. She knew from experience the ex-Commander slept like the dead on her back, sometimes with arms tucked against her sides. It was always something Syfyn found amusing when waking up beside her with her head resting on her breast.

Seeing her curl up on her side on the sleeping mat had been jarring from the memories that came flooding back. They were not the same as they had been three years ago, and not just in terms of sleeping positions.

There were a few times when she did roll onto her back. Most of the time, it would wake her up with a hiss of pain until she turned back over and settled again. But on nights like these, when the aching was already near unbearable, Corvinnia would muffle a yelp in pain and sit up with a wince.

Tonight, she pushed herself to her feet with a choked grunt, her posture adjusting in an attempt to find some way to lessen the pain. Even in the low light of the remaining embers, Syfyn could see how pale Corvinnia’s face was—and that was saying something for her already ghostly complexion.

Corvinnia didn’t look in her direction as she slinked off in the direction of the thick vegetation and trees that would provide a screen from the camp. Syfyn didn’t know why, but she got up from her seat by the dwindling fire and followed her.

Twigs snapped and leaves crinkled as she walked. Corvinnia reached out and grasped at trees to support her weight as she limped through the brush. She hadn’t even stopped to put her boots back on.

When they were a decent ways away, Corvinnia finally stopped and promptly fell to her knees. Hands buried into the forest floor as she began to retch.

Syfyn didn’t know if she knew she had followed, but her mind was made up.

She crouched beside Corvinnia, gathering the black hair falling around her face and holding it back. Her entire body was trembling and her skin was clammy as claws dug into the earth beneath them.

Corvinnia spit once when she was confident no more bile would rise and shuddered when Syfyn’s hand came to rest on her forehead.

“Is it like this often?”

Blood red eyes peered over her shoulder, as if only just realizing her presence. “More than I care to admit, but less than when it first happened,” she sighed, slowly sitting back on her heels and wiping her dirt-stained hands on her pants.

Syfyn glanced at the back of her tunic. It was glued to her skin from sweat. She had never seen what the wounds had looked like. Even with the lack of privacy from travel, Corvinnia had always been careful not to expose those scars. She was littered with others she had been proud of, like the claws that had raked over her cheek. But her back was a different story.

Corvinnia noticed where her eyes had gone, though she said nothing for a long while. She clenched her jaw as if she were mulling something over in her mind. Finally, she looked away, turning her face to the ground in shame. “You might as well see them,” she said lowly.

“I…” Syfyn trailed off, unsure of how to respond.

“You of all people have the right to see them,” Corvinnia murmured, her head dropped lower. Syfyn swore she saw a tear slip over her cheek in the filtered moonlight shining through the treetops.

She still didn’t move. Was this something she really wanted? Of course, she had wondered, but it would become reality.

Tired of her stalling, Corvinnia reached over her shoulders and tugged the back of her shirt up, swallowing back a hiss of pain as the sweat-soaked fabric peeled away from the skin.

Where her wings once were laid two horrendous scars that traveled down her back. Skin had grown over top of them, but they were still red and angry in the silver light. The flesh around them had been mauled with scar tissue disfiguring her muscular back.

Against her better judgment, Syfyn reached out and ran a delicate finger between them making Corvinnia flinch.

She pulled her hand away quickly.

“You didn’t hurt me,” she assured, though it was unconvincing from her labored breaths. “I just don’t like being touched there anymore.”

Anymore.

More memories of Corvinnia laying in her lap as Syfyn ran her hand between her wings of black feathers. If she were a cat, Corvinnia would have been purring in delight. Now, she was flinching away from that same touch as if she’d just been burned.

Syfyn couldn’t help the pressure building behind her eyes nor the way her body dipped forward, her forehead pressing against the nape of Corvinnia’s neck. The once Commander stilled and Syfyn was afraid she had overstepped until a hand released her shirt and reached back to run her fingers through Syfyn’s hair.

“Syf,” she murmured so low it was barely audible.

Syfyn said nothing. She didn’t know what to say. For so long she had done everything in her power to try and forget these feelings. She had told herself she didn’t love Corvinnia anymore, not after what she had done. But a part of her always knew that it was a lie.

She loved her so much that sometimes it was hard to breathe.

Corvinnia was her moon where she was her sun. She was her guiding star amongst the midnight sky. And without her, the nights had been so long and so very dark. Syfyn had been nothing but a hopeless traveler walking blindly these last few years.

“Syf?” Corvinnia said again.

Syfyn realized she was crying. Her sunburnt cheeks were wet and so was the back of Corvinnia’s shirt. The latter didn’t seem to care as she turned around to finally face her.

“I left you.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “You cannot blame yourself. I hurt you in ways that I will never forgive myself for.”

They both remembered. The blood, the screaming.

“You have every right to hate me, as much as it hurts me, I know it’s what I deserve. I will spend the rest of my days atoning for what I did to you because I am still so hopelessly in love with you. I would give my last breath if it meant saving yours. I’m not doing this,” Corvinnia waved her hand around, “out of duty. I do this in hopes that one day, I will be once again worthy of you.” She was crying too now as her words were thick. Some color had returned to her cheeks and her skin wasn’t as sweat-soaked in the coolness of the night air.

Syfyn swallowed hard, her hands coming to rest on her shoulders. She never had been good at affection, especially not initiating it and not after all this time and heartache. But she needed to feel the solidness of Corvinnia’s body underneath her palms.

“We will do this,” she said definitively, grey eyes meeting crimson. “We will finish this and you will come home.”

Corvinnia smiled sadly at that last part. “Home.” She looked up at the pines blocking the night sky. “I don’t even know where that is anymore.” A humorless laugh escaped her dry, cracked lips, fangs exposed to the night.

Syfyn looked away, her shoulders slumping. There had been one point in their lives that it would be safe to say they were each other’s homes. Neither of them quite fit in the life of the palace, but they had each other.

Glancing over, Corvinnia touched the back of Syfyn’s hand. “We have a long road ahead of us before we must worry about such things. For now, I am just happy to have you with me again.”

Her hand turned over, catching Corvinnia’s, their fingers lacing together.

For good this time , Syfyn wanted to say. The words swelled in her throat but her tongue refused to curl around the words.

It was a promise she could not keep.

And looking at Corvinnia, it was clear she knew as well.

#i read the chapter five drop last night and cried over syfyn #then immediately wrote this #first time writing syfyn crossing my fingers it was alright LMAO #if you don't read the exile you're missing out #my writing #the exile #the exile game #syfyn #syfyn javall #oc: corvinnia #syfyn javall x f!commander #corvinnia x syfyn #syfyn javall x commander #wlw #interactive fiction

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