Fic - FF1, f!Black Mage/f!Red Mage
Jun. 11th, 2024 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ghoulmouseFandom: Final Fantasy 1
Characters: f!Black Mage/f!Red Mage
Rating: Teen
Length: ~500 words
Notes: Reposting some Kiss Battle 2024 stuff! First, vaguely femdom wizards. (goals amirite)
"Such a shame," she said, tipping Atra's hat back by the brim until her face was no longer in shadow. Kneeling on the floor, both hands resting on the red mage's knees, Atra tilted her head up; the buckskin leather of her breeches beneath Atra's fingers was soft and solid and felt exactly as expensive as it probably was. Amhara was an heiress, or something like that -- her stone was a family heirloom that had sat inside a treasure box for generations. Atra had found hers while camping in a crypt, and had tried to sell it for supplies even though she had been well aware from the instant she picked it up that it was a holy artifact.
Amhara's long fingers slid beneath Atra's high collar, undoing the fastenings one after another. "You really shouldn't hide this pretty face, you know," she said. Atra had never thought of herself as pretty, but then she had never really thought about it at all.
Soon, the top of Atra's coat was undone, the threadbare scarf that she usually pulled up over her face discarded on the ground. Amhara was studying her like she was a manuscript -- ink-smeared cheeks and cracked lips and freckles and all. She blushed, not used to being looked at, but resisted the urge to look away, to pull her hat down over her face again to hide it. Amhara had told her she shouldn't hide.
"I think," Amhara purred, catching Atra's chin in her hand, "that you've been holding back on me."
"Maybe," Atra said. Amhara's thumb brushed against her lips, and the red mage's nails, darkened with henna and filed almost to points, pressed into her skin. Atra kissed the tip of Amhara's thumb before she slipped it past her lips, into her mouth. It tasted like perfume and brimstone.
"Don't be coy," Amhara warned. "I know you have twice the fire I've got. You can hide it away all you like, but I know power when I see it."
"Mmhmm," Atra hummed, sucking lightly on Amhara's invading finger, which seemed to bring a tiny small to the red mage's face. Amhara had a way of sounding convincing, but it helped that in this case she was entirely right.
It wasn't that she didn't know the incantations. She was just afraid she'd lose control of the results.
And she was afraid she'd like the chaos a little too much.
"Next time we fight," Amhara said, drawing her thumb out of Atra's mouth and tightening her grip ever so slightly, "what are you going to do for me?"
"Stop being afraid to show off," Atra said.
"And?"
"Burn it all down."
Amhara laughed, lightly, like silver bells ringing. "That's more like a black mage," she said.
Atra grabbed the brim of her hat and threw the battered felt monstrosity aside as Amhara pulled her close.
Characters: f!Black Mage/f!Red Mage
Rating: Teen
Length: ~500 words
Notes: Reposting some Kiss Battle 2024 stuff! First, vaguely femdom wizards. (goals amirite)
"Such a shame," she said, tipping Atra's hat back by the brim until her face was no longer in shadow. Kneeling on the floor, both hands resting on the red mage's knees, Atra tilted her head up; the buckskin leather of her breeches beneath Atra's fingers was soft and solid and felt exactly as expensive as it probably was. Amhara was an heiress, or something like that -- her stone was a family heirloom that had sat inside a treasure box for generations. Atra had found hers while camping in a crypt, and had tried to sell it for supplies even though she had been well aware from the instant she picked it up that it was a holy artifact.
Amhara's long fingers slid beneath Atra's high collar, undoing the fastenings one after another. "You really shouldn't hide this pretty face, you know," she said. Atra had never thought of herself as pretty, but then she had never really thought about it at all.
Soon, the top of Atra's coat was undone, the threadbare scarf that she usually pulled up over her face discarded on the ground. Amhara was studying her like she was a manuscript -- ink-smeared cheeks and cracked lips and freckles and all. She blushed, not used to being looked at, but resisted the urge to look away, to pull her hat down over her face again to hide it. Amhara had told her she shouldn't hide.
"I think," Amhara purred, catching Atra's chin in her hand, "that you've been holding back on me."
"Maybe," Atra said. Amhara's thumb brushed against her lips, and the red mage's nails, darkened with henna and filed almost to points, pressed into her skin. Atra kissed the tip of Amhara's thumb before she slipped it past her lips, into her mouth. It tasted like perfume and brimstone.
"Don't be coy," Amhara warned. "I know you have twice the fire I've got. You can hide it away all you like, but I know power when I see it."
"Mmhmm," Atra hummed, sucking lightly on Amhara's invading finger, which seemed to bring a tiny small to the red mage's face. Amhara had a way of sounding convincing, but it helped that in this case she was entirely right.
It wasn't that she didn't know the incantations. She was just afraid she'd lose control of the results.
And she was afraid she'd like the chaos a little too much.
"Next time we fight," Amhara said, drawing her thumb out of Atra's mouth and tightening her grip ever so slightly, "what are you going to do for me?"
"Stop being afraid to show off," Atra said.
"And?"
"Burn it all down."
Amhara laughed, lightly, like silver bells ringing. "That's more like a black mage," she said.
Atra grabbed the brim of her hat and threw the battered felt monstrosity aside as Amhara pulled her close.
