#dappled grove

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched trees, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your vision turns white. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #eris vanserra #eris imagine #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra smut

[sonamytrash]

Temptress

An: As usual, I don't have anything to say for myself. I started this off quite enchanted and romantic, and it turned to filth pretty quickly.

Warnings: Pure smutty filth, public sex, outdoor sex, poor tree, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasm, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, name calling, dom Levi, daddy is used, female anatomy described, porn with plot, but mostly porn. MDNI.

The air was thick with the musky scent of damp earth and the crisp tang of pine needles as Levi made his way through the dense woodland, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting long, dappled shadows over the forest floor.

A light breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of newly bloomed flowers. In the distance, the gentle murmur of a nearby stream provided a soothing background score to this picturesque scene. It was in this serene setting that Levi Ackerman found himself, taking a shortcut through the woods as he made his way back from a nearby town where he'd been to buy tea. Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. Curious, he carefully crept closer, peering through the foliage. There, hidden among the undergrowth, he spotted you, one of the scouts' medics. You were clad in a blush pink dress, your hair loose and flowing down your back, catching the golden rays of the sun. You seemed to be engrossed in your task, humming softly to yourself crouched down, carefully plucking plants from the ground.

You smiled to yourself, your hands expertly weaving through the dense undergrowth. The woods were your sanctuary. You knew every nook and cranny, every hidden path and secret grove. It was here that you found solace from the chaos of the world beyond the trees.

Having studied medicinal plants since you were young, and now, as a member of the scouts medical team, you were able to put your knowledge to good use.

The fabric of your dress was cool against your skin, a welcome relief from the muggy air. You bent down to pluck a particularly plump-looking leaf, your movements graceful and fluid.

You paused for a moment, listening intently to the sounds of the forest. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the gentle sigh of the breeze. It was a symphony that only nature could compose, and you found yourself lost in its beauty.

Levi cleared his throat, making his presence known. Startled, you looked up at him with wide, expressive eyes. "Ah, Levi," you said, her cheeks flushing slightly, "I didn't hear you." You glanced back at your collection, clearly torn between finishing what you were doing and attending to the stoic, dark-haired figure standing before you.

"What are you doing out here?" Levi asked, his voice low and curious. He leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms over his chest. You stood up, brushing the dirt from your knees, straightening out your dress as you smiled sheepishly. "Just collecting some medicinal plants," you replied, gesturing to your collection.

Levi arched an eyebrow, amused by your reaction. "I couldn't help but wonder what kind of strange animal might be lurking around in the bushes." he teased, stepping closer. A smirk crept across your lips. "Oh, you know, just the type of weird animal that spends their day's off in the dirt."

There was an awkward silence as you both took in each other's presence. You felt your cheeks flush again, remembering the flirtatious banter that you often shared. Always tethering on the edge of something more. But never had you been alone like this before, away from the eyes and ears of the scouting headquarters.

Levi, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight danced across your shoulders, and your breasts filled the dress you had chosen to wear highlighting the soft curves of your body, a welcome change from the usual scouts uniform. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, did you find everything you needed?"

You nod, your eyes not leaving his. "Yes, I think so. Thanks for asking." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you tried to climb back up the rockery, not entirely sure how you managed to get down there in the first place. "You're not out here just to chat. Are you, Levi?" You gave him a playful smile, trying to break the tension.

Amused, Levi didn’t return your smile, but his expression softened. "No, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, in case there were any other weird animals around." He teases, reaching his hand out to you for assistance.

You felt a thrill run through you at his touch as he effortlessly pulled you up. "Nope, just me," you teased, your voice a little breathless. Your final step closed the small distance between the two of you, as you laid a hand on his chest for support. The contact sent a wave of heat through your body, and you could feel the strong muscles and steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, "And I'm fine." You assured him.

Levi looked down at your hand on his chest, his own hand curling gently around your waist to support you. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You raise your eyes to meet his, your gazes locked, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between them seemed to crackle with an almost palpable energy, and time seemed to stand still.

No, you were not okay. You were never okay around this man.

Levi's grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, drawing you closer still. Your heart racing. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms, and it made you want to be even closer.

"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. You could see the desire flickering in Levi's eyes. It was a look you had seen many times before, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what was coming, and you wanted it. You wanted him.

He took note of your features. Delicate and beautiful, but there was something wild about you, too. Something untamed. You seemed to be waiting for him, and he could feel his heart racing with anticipation.

"You've been waiting for this, haven't you?" he asked, his voice low and steady despite the pounding of his heart.

You smiled at him. The expression on your face was both mischievous and enchanting. "Maybe I have, haven't you too?" you replied, tilting your head to the side. His hand reached out, gently brushing against your cheek, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "Tch, don't get cocky, brat." his fingers further ghost along the side of your face as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I may be a man, but I still have control over my urges." his gaze smoulders with a hint of barely restrained desire. "Though I admit. You make it damn difficult sometimes."

With a gentle nudge, he guided you backwards until your back was pressed against the rough bark of a tree.

He leans in, your breaths mingling as his lips brush against your own.

You gasp, your hands finding their way to his shoulders. Your lips were soft and yielding beneath his, and he could feel you respond to his touch, your body moving in time with his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to explore the sweetness of your mouth, and you moaned in response, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He reached around, his hand finding the softness of your backside, and he squeezed, pulling you closer still. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, your hips grinding together desperately.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, and looked up at him with eyes that were now dark with need. Your hands moved over his chest, his shoulders tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the tautness of his skin. "I want you," Levi rasps, his voice thick with desire. His hooded eyes roam hungrily over your form. "Right here, right now." His calloused hands slide down to caress your curves, igniting sparks of pleasure. "I can't wait any longer." He kisses your neck and nips his way lower until he reaches the valley between your breasts. With a growl, he pulls the fabric loose, freeing your flesh from the confines of your dress. He cups your breasts in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the warmth that emanated from your skin. He takes one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, teasing it with his tongue while rolling the other one between his fingers. You arch your back, hips grinding against him, your fingers tangled in his hair. "Levi," you moaned, your voice dripping with desire.

He watched as you lowered your eyes, taking in the hardness of him through his pants before meeting his gaze again. "Then take me, Captain." You reply, and with a slow, deliberate motion, reaching down to free him from his trousers. You let out a moan at the sight of him, his gorgeous cock, hot and twitching in your hand.

Levi's breath hitches as you free his throbbing erection as his grip on your waist tightens. "You're a fucking temptress, you know that?." he growls, pressing you harder against the tree. He reluctantly leaves your nipple and captures your lips in another hungry kiss, his hips instinctively bucking into your touch. One hand continues to caress your plump breast while the other slides beneath your dress, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Pulling away briefly, he murmurs against your lips, "You're going to be the death of me," His voice is thick with want. "Humanities strongest soldier, reduced to this by a fucking siren. Tsk." With that, he spins you around, pinning you firmly against the tree, hiking up the skirt of your dress, his hard length presses insistently against your backside as his nimble fingers work to divest you of your undergarments, a satisfied smirk painted accross your lips the entire time. "But what a way to go." He relishes the feeling of the heat of your skin and the dampness between your legs. You gasped, your hips moving restlessly against his hand.

He bunches your dress up around your waist, revealing the curve of your rear. "And what a tempting sight," he murmurs, his hands caressing your supple flesh, parting your folds with his fingers, teasing you and circling your sensitive bud. You cry out, hips bucking against his hand. He presses one and then two fingers inside you, feeling your tight, wet cunt. You were so ready for him, so desperate for release. He slides his fingers in and out of you, in time with his thumb, circling your clit, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, your hands gripping the bark of the tree. Levi's fingers curl inside you, stroking all of the right spots. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he feels your silken walls clenching around his digits.

Your body arched, your back bowed as his name spilt from your mouth, and then you came, your voice shattering the tranquillity of the woods. Your muscles spasmed around his fingers, and your breath came in ragged gasps as the pleasure coursed through you. Levi's eyes flash with wicked delight at your wanton display.

"You have no idea what you're in for, pet." He growls, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as you catch your breath. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he sinks his cock into your slick heat, stretching and filling you deliciously. Your body still sensitive from your first orgasm. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he hilts himself fully. "Levi!" You cry throwing your head back.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, pausing momentarily to allow you to adjust to his impressive girth. Then, with a sharp snap of his hips, he begins to pound into you relentlessly, "That's it, let me hear those delicious sounds."

A guttural moan escapes his lips at the sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him. He fills you completely, stretching and satisfying your aching need as you moan loudly for him.

Bracing his hands firmly around your hips, he begins to thrust into you with deep, powerful strokes, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency. "You feel so fucking good," he growls through ragged breaths mingle with your desperate moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the air around you. "So hot and tight around my cock."

He sets a hard, relentless pace, pounding into you against the tree. His mouth latches onto the delicate skin of your shoulder, sucking and nipping, determined to mark you as his. One hand snakes up to knead your heavy breast as they bounce and slap one another from his assault. His other hand clutches your backside, pulling you flush against him with every powerful thrust.

"Levi...it feels so good," you mewl, He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back as he grunts with each powerful thrust. "That's right, keep saying my name with that pretty little mouth." he commands, his voice rough with lust.

His hand snakes from your breast to your clit, stroking it in time with his ruthless thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, taking my cock like this," his breath hot against the back of your neck. His teeth graze the sensitive skin there, no doubt leaving his mark. Levi's pace becomes increasingly frantic as he drives into you, his hips snapping sharply. Each powerful thrust elicits a wanton moan from your lips, driving his lust even higher.

He slams into you with bruising force, his hips snapping against your rear with each powerful thrust. The pressure and friction is delicious, and he can feel your walls fluttering around his throbbing shaft.

You arched your back, crying out his name as you came, your body shuddering with release. He continues to thrust into you relentlessly, feeling your body relax and then tense again with each thrust, your wet heat enveloping him as he continues to apply pressure to your clit expertly allowing you to ride out your orgasm. And then, just as you thought it couldn't possibly get any better, you felt it building again as you allowed the overstimulation to consume you, a second wave, and with it, the rush of hot liquid that trickled down your legs leaving you breathless and astonished as you moaned breathlessly beneath him, you inner walls desperate to milk his cock. Levi felt the fluid spill over his hand and smirked, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste your essence, "Dirty fucking girl," he says with a groan of pleasure, "I don't think you even knew you could do that." He comments seductively as he his thrusts grew more frenzied, his hips slapping against your ass with an urgency that left you both gasping for breath. "Give daddy one more." As he reaches down to rub your clit again, you mewl at the contact of his wet, slippery fingers returning to circle the already sensitive nub. He feels your body quickly contract around him, your muscles gripping him in a vice-like hold again. You felt yourself losing control, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks, "Don't stop, daddy please" you mewled, the words effortlessly rolling from your lips. With a loud cry, your body convulsed, your muscles tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Fuck, that's it. Milk my cock dry." His thumb circles your swollen clit as he chases his own release. Consumed with feral satisfaction at the sight of your debauched state. "You're such a good slut for daddy." With a final few deep thrusts, Levi buries himself to the hilt, spilling his seed deep inside, moaning your name as empties himself into you.He holds you flush against him, painting your walls with his hot, thick cum.

Levi's chest heaves as he catches his breath, his grip on your hips unwavering. "Tch, look at the mess we've made," He gazes down at you with a glint in his eyes. "But I have to admit, it's a sight I quite enjoy." 

You blush furiously at the events that have just unfolded. Your sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, hearts racing, and your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your grip on the tree had turned your knuckles white as you turned to meet his gaze. "Guess I'm not the only animal around here."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #aot smut #fanfiction smut

[strangelittlestories]

If the Princess Crocus (who you should never call ‘Crocus’, but always Croak if you know what’s good for you) had listened in class, she would have known that there were two kinds of nature spirit.

There were the ‘Constant’ (also known as the Entotheoi), the spirits of places or things like rivers or trees or mountains. And there were the ‘Flux’ (or Metatheoi), the spirits of events and changes like sudden frosts, changing winds or sudden deaths.

But Croak had not attended that particular class (and likely would not have listened anyway), so when she returned from questing one day to find the rowan blossoms dancing on the wind as they fell … her only thought was: “That’s beautiful.”

Without thinking about it (for she did many things without thinking, most of them problematic) she began to dance amongst the blossoms. She danced with jerky, violent, reckless abandon; all passion, no grace. To her surprise, the falling blossoms twined themselves around her and held her close to make the dance a duet.

And every summer, when Croak would return from the spring’s quest with new scars and stories, she would travel first to that rowan grove. There, she would tell her tales to the petals as the floated rapt in the air. With each word, the spirit would grow more solid - until a figure could be seen in the swirl of flowers and dappled orchard light. Then that figure would reach out with soft perfumed fingers to rub the aches out of the princess’s scarred limbs.

So it passed  the same way for several years, and each year the Flux got a little more solid, and Croak got a little gentler (though she had many hard and broken edges still).

#part 1/2 #writing #microfiction #flash fiction #short story #fantasy

[sangoziethesimp]

Naughty fox | YAE MIKO X FEM READER

MEN and MINORS DNI

Your girlfriend, Yae Miko doing her usual thing but you came to the shrine. You just wanted to visit the pretty lady, now why are you sweating and panting? Why is there also a fox chasing you? Oh well.

In the serene village of Inazuma, where ancient traditions harmonized with the tranquility of nature, stood the sacred shrine presided over by the esteemed Yae Miko. The day unfolded with the sun casting a warm embrace upon the landscape, its gentle rays painting a golden sheen upon the intricate wooden structures that adorned the shrine grounds. Yae Miko, draped in her ceremonial attire, moved with an ethereal grace, her serene countenance illuminated by a mischievous glint in her eyes as she observed the arrival of Y/N, her beloved and spirited partner whose presence often infused the village with a vibrant energy.

The shrine maiden’s heart stirred with the desire for playful diversion amidst the tranquility that enveloped Inazuma. With a playful yet cunning spirit akin to that of a fox, Yae Miko decided to weave a bit of mischief into the otherwise serene day, eager to engage in a playful escapade with her beloved.

Her nimble fingers traced invisible patterns as she invoked her innate powers, transforming seamlessly into her enchanting fox form. Her fur shimmered in the dappling sunlight, a radiant display of russet and gold as she stealthily trailed Y/N. The soft padding of her tiny paws against the earth echoed the whispering breeze, her movements as nimble and graceful as the woodland creatures she emulated. Unbeknownst to Y/N, the shrine maiden was now the epitome of a playful fox, reveling in the anticipation of her impromptu prank on her beloved.

Y/N, caught up in the serene beauty of the village, strolled through the tranquil paths, enchanted by the tranquility of Inazuma’s natural beauty. It was amidst this idyllic scene that Yae Miko, in her fox form, saw the perfect opportunity for mischief. With a swift motion, she approached Y/N and lightly nipped at her ankle, a mischievous glint dancing in her fox-like eyes.

"What in the world...?" Y/N gasped, her surprise evident as she spun around in search of the unseen prankster.

Giggling softly in her fox form, Yae Miko continued her playful pursuit, darting among the foliage, occasionally brushing against Y/N or causing a cascade of leaves to flutter around her. Y/N's laughter filled the tranquil groves, a symphony that harmonized with the playful chuckles of the mischievous fox.

"Alright, who's playing tricks with me?" Y/N laughed, thoroughly enjoying the mysterious interplay of amusement in the serene setting.

The spirited chase persisted, Yae Miko embodying the playful nature of a fox while Y/N reveled in the unexpected joy of the impromptu game. With each playful interaction, Y/N's laughter echoed through the serene groves, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves and the soft padding of Yae Miko's fox-like steps.

As the playful pursuit continued, Yae Miko relished the spirited joy of her fox-like nature, cherishing every moment spent in the company of her beloved. Each fleeting moment of mischief woven into the tranquility of Inazuma felt like a delightful interlude in the tapestry of their day.

After a sequence of delightful moments, unable to contain her laughter any longer, Yae Miko transformed back into her elegant human form, revealing herself to the astonished yet amused Y/N.

"Surprise, it was me all along," Yae Miko announced with a delighted grin, her fox-like personality shining through her mischievous gaze.

Y/N blinked in astonishment before bursting into laughter. "Yae Miko, you sly fox! That was clever!"

"I couldn't resist a bit of playful fun," Yae Miko confessed, her laughter resonating with the spirited joy of her fox-like nature.

Their bond grew even stronger from that day forward, marked by the memory of a mischievous prank that led to an enduring romance, their laughter echoing through the tranquil groves of Inazuma, a testament to the delightful whimsy of their shared adventure as loving partners.

As the day progressed, the routine chores seemed to wane in excitement for the mischievous shrine maiden. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she noticed the arrival of Y/N, an adventurous soul whose presence never failed to bring a sense of joy to the tranquil village.

"Time for a little fun," Yae Miko whispered to herself, her thoughts already brimming with playful schemes.

Embracing her innate ability, Yae Miko transformed into her diminutive and enchanting fox form, her fur shimmering in the dappling sunlight. With silent steps, she stealthily trailed Y/N, the fox's paws navigating the verdant paths with an almost ethereal grace. Y/N, completely unaware of Yae Miko's transformative powers, wandered through the tranquil groves, admiring the beauty of the landscape.

Seizing the opportune moment, Yae Miko, in her fox form, approached Y/N and, with a playful glint in her eyes, lightly nipped at Y/N's ankle, eliciting a surprised yelp from the unsuspecting adventurer.

"What in the world?" Y/N exclaimed, turning around in search of the unseen culprit.

Giggling softly, Yae Miko continued her playful pursuit, darting between bushes, occasionally rustling leaves, or lightly tugging at the hem of Y/N's clothing. The playful antics continued, accompanied by Y/N's infectious laughter echoing through the tranquil groves.

"Who's playing tricks on me?" Y/N chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the mystery and unexpected amusement.

The mischievous chase continued, the playful fox relishing every moment of the impromptu game, while Y/N found delight in the thrill of the unexpected mischief.

Finally, unable to contain her laughter any longer, Yae Miko transformed back into her ethereal human form, revealing herself to the bewildered yet amused Y/N.

"Surprise, it was me all along," Yae Miko declared, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N's eyes widened in astonishment before erupting into joyful laughter. "Yae Miko, you sneaky fox! I had no idea!"

"I couldn't resist a bit of playful fun," Yae Miko confessed with a warm smile, relishing in the shared joy between them.

From that day forward, the bond between Yae Miko and Y/N flourished, marked by the memory of a mischievous prank that led to an enduring friendship, their laughter echoing through the tranquil groves of Inazuma.

#sangowrites #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin yae #yae miko x reader #yae miko x you #yae miko x y/n #yae miko #fluff #genshin fluff #genshin inazuma

[tamlinweek]

#spring court #spring court aesthetic #tamlin #pro tamlin #tamlin poll #tamlin week #tamlinweek #tamlin week 2024 #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[thecoziestbean]

So I’m trying my hand at something a little different and dipping my toe into the Baldur’s Gate 3 waters. I’m working on a Halsin x Reader one-shot that’s almost done. (Because I’m pretty obsessed with the big bear man right now, not gonna lie.)

It’s sort of a dark(ish) Goldilocks and the Three Bears (or one bear in this case).

Here’s a little nsfw snippet. Hoping to have the final fic done this weekend.

run through the forest (settle before the sun)

BG3 | Halsin x Reader | E | one-shot

“You smell like summer, when blackberries are full and ripe in their thickets, and honey is thick in the hives. I can smell the sun on your skin from your time in the water…” He drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw, until his face is buried in your hair.

“All of that? I smell like all of that?” You let out a choked, breathless laugh.

“And more. Hedges of honeysuckle and new shoots of grass, the air just before a thunderstorm, and…” Each word is like a pebble dropped into a still pond, sending ripples of desire shivering across your skin to pool low in your belly. He pauses to take in another lungful of your scent. A low growl rumbles through his chest.

“And?” Your voice is a tremulous whisper in the still evening.

He pulls back just far enough to stare down into your upturned face. His eyes are like the grove where he’s made his home: all sun dappled leaves, golden honey and green clover. The corner of his full mouth quirks, pulling at the scars that cut a jagged path across the crags and canyons of his rugged face.

“Need, little bird. I can smell it dripping like nectar between these lush thighs,” he croons, pressing his own muscled thigh between your legs to grind against the aching heart of you. He flashes you a playful smile that makes your heart swoop and stutter. “So what should I do with you, then? How will you thank me for my hospitality?”

#halsin #halsin x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #cozy writes

[theresattrpgforthat]

Are there any RPGs where the player(s) control a plant? The more realistic the better!

THEME: Play A Plant

Hello friend! Oh do I have the recommendations for you!!

Moss Creeps, Stone Crumbles by Adam Roy.

A bird perches on a tree branch, singing. A snail crawls across a bed of springy moss. Sunbeams shine through the canopy, their dappled light sparkling on the forest floor.

Moss Creeps, Stone Crumbles is a game about the slow, gentle march of nature. Using drawings and words, you’ll tell the story of a forest grove and how it changes over the course of 100 years. You can play with any number of participants from 2 through 20.

This game feels like a drawing version of Telephone - it requires each player to add something to a continuously growing map. It feels more like a creation exercise than a drawn out game, and the meditation that the author includes in the play document solidifies this feeling. If you want something simple, focused, and good for a large number of people, check out Moss Creeps, Stone Crumbles.

Undercover Houseplant, by ToriBee.

Welcome, Agent, to the most challenging operation of your career. You've been chosen for this mission due to your exceptional ability to adapt and overcome. In an unconventional twist of fate, you find yourself deployed in the field not as the usual two-legged agent, but rather a zero-legged operative: a houseplant.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate the enemy's premises, blend in with the local flora, and gather valuable intel from the unsuspecting individuals who dare to conduct secretive conversations in your vicinity.

This is a solo journaling game in which you are a secret agent, transformed into a houseplant in order to spy in on top-secret conversations. As you attempt to gather intelligence, you risk raising suspicion using a Suspicion Score. This will raise every time you fail a Growth action, which is meant to improve your ability to gather information, or a Communicate action, which involves subtle changes in your patterns in order to communicate what you’ve already learned. If you want a solo game with a humorous premise, I recommend Undercover Houseplant!

Rooted Together, by Monroeroe.

Play with a group of friends in this journaling game (that utilizes a d6) where you are mushroom folk trying to build a community. Rules light and open to expand to whatever sort of play style you find best.

I don’t have a copy of this game, so I can’t give much of an overview for this one, but based on the price and the description, I have a feeling it’s a rules-light game and likely uses prompts, considering it’s a journaling kind of game. If you want a bit more sentience and mobility in your plant (or plant-adjacent) game, consider Rooted Together!

Mushrooms & Magic, by FeatherBoy.

Years after a mysterious series of magical Churnings, kingdoms of Mushrooms awoke in a world left behind by the Ancients, surrounded by strange beasts and remnants of ancient technology from when "humans" walked the soils. In the years following, Mushroomkind fought and explored, discovered and innovated. But Mushrooms are small, and the world is large; much remains to be learned, and countless adventures are still to be had. Will you answer the call?

Mushrooms & Magic runs using a modified Powered by the Apocalypse / Monster of the Week-like system, with new mechanics for tool crafting, abilities, and several magic types. The game only requires one die - a d20 - and makes use of just four basic stats. While not necessarily rules-light, plenty of room is left within the game's structure for players to modify core abilities and attributes (and add their own!) as wanted within campaigns, and GM's are encouraged to have fun with the setting above all else.

This is probably the farthest from your request mostly because you are more like uplifted mushrooms - with very human-like attributes such as tool use, clothing, and the desire for adventure. However, it’s probably also the biggest game in this list, with a very interesting stat wheel, which is an interesting deviation from typical PbtA games. It’s a bit more granular while using the same rule-system, and I’m interested to see what that means in play.

Where Sunflowers Grow, by Darkheart Games.

You and your friends are sunflowers growing in a field once torn by human war. The battles are long over, but the soil your roots drink from holds the memory of blood. When the memories wash through you, you share your experiences with your friends.

Where Sunflowers Grow is a game for three to six players and can be played remotely or in person. The game requires ten unshelled sunflower seeds (or ten small slips of paper) in addition to the PDF in order to play.

I think this game is the most grounded in a real setting, with the unique perspective of plants growing on a field where violence took place. Your characters weren’t present for the conflict itself, but the violence has still managed to affect your life. I really like the thematic element of using sunflower seeds to randomize the memories which your sunflowers will move through. However, this is not a game for everyone - make sure to prepare your table for conversations about violence, trauma, and attrition if you want to suggest this game.

The Flora, by Affinity Games Collective.

The Flora is a meditative structured freeform game for 1-6 players. 

In it you will play a long-lived plant, rooted in place, their history and responses to the elements, fauna, their human caretakers and the human-shaped world. The game starts with fledgling Flora growing in our present day, you will feel the marks of human activity, the shifting seasons, and the changing climate as you adapt and grow, and eventually decay and die. 

You’ll be answering questions, choosing options from tables, telling or writing stories about the Flora and the different caretakers in the Flora’s life, drawing and updating a map of the Lot on which they live, and drawing the Flora throughout their lifespan. 

It looks like this game can be played either solo or in a group. The “what you will need” list on the game page recommends a timer, so it looks like you have the ability to play the game in short bursts. The primary focus of the game is observing the growth of a plant through a series of caretakers, until it reaches the end of its life. I think there are also different options for the kind of flora you play!

Gardenborn: Knights of the Green, by Verdant Green Games.

You play as sentient plant knights called "Gardenborn" as you quest to find a long-lost Grail that holds the key to ending a devastating fungal plague ravaging the wilds.

Gardenborn is a cooperative TTRPG designed for one GM and 2-5 players. As sentient plants, you will venture into the Deep Wilds, where a plague called the Bloodrot festers. There are monsters such as Toadgres and infected stags, called Deergons. I like the stats for your characters: willow, hardy, tolerant and creeping. The game is still in its initial stages, so expect less setting and perhaps a few pieces that are rough around the edges, but the setting is lovingly present even in just the first draft!

Mossy Mechanics, by Diwata Ng Manila.

You've seen the power of the Succulent Sorcerers, you've experienced how a Petal Paladin enacts their order, and you have been beholden to the strength of the Bonsai Brawlers - now, be enchanted by the prowess of the Mossy Mechanics!

I’ve recommended the other instalments of Sin’s previous plant games, and it is only fitting that I include the last one here. You used to just be a clump of moss, but the “Other Mother” has awoken you in her first step of a plan towards world domination. Will you fight for her? Or against her?

This is such a sweet little system with the same basic stats across all games. All characters have Resist pips and Raw Magic pips, which determine your threshold for success. In Mossy Mechanics, you choose a Mechanic Form, which gives you your basic stats, as well as a Mod, which gives you special abilities. There’s also a quick little page containing everything your Garden master needs to know. If you want something cute and small and easy to run, I recommend Mossy Mechanics.

(I also have share-able character sheets for this one!)

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #indie ttrpg #plant games

[missusk]

Hi, I really like dappled grove and I was wondering if I can have permission to bind it so I can have a hardback copy? Thank you!

Omg sure! That sounds really cool, how do you do that? I've been wanting a printed copy myself but had no idea how to do it without paying some website to do it for me 😅

But also so glad you love the story, tysm! ❤️

#ask #dappled grove

[miggylol]

I've enjoyed the polls of this type I've seen, so...

#polls #tumblr polls

[13th-dragon-prince]

Piercing eyes stared through the foliage of the dense greenery that covered him. The bark beneath his claws was soft as paper as his talons tensed and relaxed in preparation. With such dark coloration the dragon’s petite body blended against that oaken wood and dappled shadows, the blueish leaves within the thickened trunk teasing against his senses as the wind ghosted over quiet nerves.

One wouldn’t be remiss to think the gecko was little more than a gnarled burl laying out along the branch as he did.

But this was no idle creature, no this was a predator, with silvered-blues darting across the broad walkway beneath him, searching, waiting, hunting for the prey to come ever closer.

His broad tail slithered around the limb as his prehensile toes digging into the groves far better than any single hand could do, the animistic talons keeping grip as he pushed himself up just enough to rest his chin atop the back of his palms.

Boredom was beginning to threaten him, it made his teeth clack with the need to cause problems.

Thankfully (At least to him), the answer to his dilemma soon came around the corner, his slitted pupils rounding in playful excitement at seeing the target nearing his perch; a shiver wiggling the tip of his tail as an unsounded rattle of the waiting snake, his tight grip loosening as his haunches wiggled too and fro before-

POUNCE

#thread: Open #[[He's playing don't worry he won't bite]] #[[Unless you want him too]] #[[Friendly little gecko who just wants to cause problems]]

[riverwindphotography]

Cow parsnip glows in a sun-dappled Aspen grove, Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

(c) riverwindphotography, from the archives

#original photographers #aspen trees #wildflowers #sunlight #nature

[homeworlddesign]

Paintbrush Residence, Wyoming / CLB Architects

Evolving as deliberately as the forest which surrounds it, the Paintbrush Residence stands as testament to the longevity of thoughtful design. Situated in a dappled Aspen grove outside Jackson, Wyoming, the treehouse-like project reorients the occupant to their place in nature, bringing them into a closer, more intimate cohabitation.

#architecture #home design #interior design #retreat #residential #house #design #architects

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

 And When You Move, I'm Moved

(Read on AO3)

My first BG3 fic, and it's a bit of tooth rottingly sweet smut with Gale and my Tav, Artemis.

edit: after some very nice comments on AO3 I finally feel brave enough to post this here

18+ Minors DNI (smut under the cut) p in v sex, hand jobs, romantic fluff

Artemis steps light-footed towards Gale’s tent, her elven grace keeping her footsteps in the gravel of the camp quiet as she pads forward and crouches down at the opening to lift back the material and check if he's asleep. The lantern inside his tent still flickers, a book held up and hiding his face. She’s not quite sure if he’s awake, but she whispers his name anyway, "Gale?"

Flinching, startled, his book falls onto his chest, but before he can say anything, he’s silenced by the vision of her illuminated by the moonlight outside. A smile crosses his lips at the friendly intrusion. “Tem? What are you – ”

Putting a finger to her lips, a sly smile grows from behind it as her turquoise eyes sparkle at him, the golden flecks around her irises illuminated by the lantern light inside his tent from his late-night reading. "I couldn't sleep," she whispers. Crawling in, Tem pushes back the white hair that hangs in front of her eyes before curling up beside him. "Did I wake you?" 

His arm wraps around her, pulling her closer until the curves of her link to him like the pieces of a puzzle. “No, I was wide awake, you caught me in a moment where I was deep in thought – thinking only of you.”

A soft smile pulling at her lips, Tem hums. It was a lie, but it was a charming one. "What were you thinking about me for?" she asks coyly.

Gale’s warm chuckle fills the quiet between them as he lets the silence hang for a moment. “I often find myself musing over you, my thoughts straying, reflecting on our first kiss…I’ve thought of little else since then. The taste, the feeling of your lips against mine, your breath against my skin…”

She rolls onto her stomach to get a better look at him, resting her chin on her forearms as her long waves of onyx and platinum hair coil together down her back. "It was a very good kiss, wasn't it?” She says with a grin, her cheeks blushing at the memory. 

“It was. Perfect even.” Gale breathes, savoring the thought for a moment before continuing. “And now, I've been ruminating on how those lips might taste the moment I wake. Of how I might savor your breath when I draw close and…”

He stops just short of kissing her, and her gaze falls to his mouth before looking up at him with wide eyes. “And?” She’s already swooning, her vision swimming in the flickering golden light as her heart pounds in her chest, thundering like a storm beating against the coastline. 

Gale smiles, a deep rumble filling his voice as he finally meets her gaze. “And how conceivably your heart might reverberate against mine as I lay with you.” He leans in closer, his breath whispering across her lips as his hand rests against the pulse in her neck. A smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Your heart’s racing.” 

She places her hand on top of his, clasping it tightly, feeling his own pulse through his flesh. “You have that effect on me.” Pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, her lips drift across his skin until they reach the lobe of his ear, and she whispers, "There's a grove just a quick walk from here. I'd rather be under the stars."

His brow raises, mouth opening and closing without words to speak as his throat bobs.

Her smile causes the crescents under her lips to wax into full dimples as she takes him by the hand and leads him out of the tent and into the wilds like a will o’ the wisp, glowing under the silvery light of the moon. 

In the grove, amongst the trees, the branches and leaves cast patterns as shadow dapples her face. Stopping where the light is especially bright, her skin reflects the silver of the moonbeams that glow upon her and he brushes his fingers through the white hair that frames her face, admiring how it seems to sparkle in the twinkling light of the stars. “A moon elf under the light of the moon. How fitting.”

"You're not the only one who appreciates poetry, Mr. Dekarios."

He raises an eyebrow, smiling as he hums at the sight of her. “You, my darling, are the sweetest sonnet.” Tangling his fingers in her silky hair once more, Gale draws closer, tilting his head as he leans down to kiss her.

She cradles his face in her hands, fingers drifting through the waves of hair that curl at his nape, and as she is lost in the feel of him her mind drifts and the thought of a bed fills her thoughts. Her hands slip from him, and her fingers point to the earth below, casting magic that produces a thick blanket of moss around them, a mattress of foliage for them to lay upon, dotted with fragrant wildflowers. 

The perfume fills his lungs and coats his tongue, and Gale is taken aback by the scene she’s created for them. “How very romantic.” Grinning, he pulls Artemis close to him and nuzzles his face against her neck, his lips brushing across her skin.

"Can't have your poor joints getting sore now, can we?" she teases.

Lowering to their knees, slowly , he leans back into the grassy bed she’s made them. She is quick to climb into his lap, to sit atop him, and her fingers move to the ties of her shift, loosening the bonds of her clothing as she leans down to kiss him.

Desire surges through him as her lips trace the outline of his mouth. Running his fingers along her back while his other hand gently kneads the soft flesh of her thighs, he pulls her closer. Groaning as her slender fingers stroke his jaw, burying her face into the crook of his neck, kissing him softly. Her tongue running along his thumping artery. He draws circles on the small of her back over the material of her shift and imagines the smoothness of her skin below. As the intensity of her kisses grows tenfold, his voice becomes husky, “I must have you.” He murmurs, “The truth is... I've been ruminating on this moment for far too long.”

“And you will have me. Patience is a virtue, Gale. Just let me make you comfortable.”

Pulling her hair aside to reveal her neck, his mouth explores every inch of her exposed flesh. “I’ve had trouble focusing on much else, it’s been quite vexing trying to control…” He trails off, his voice a whisper, his mouth pressed to her.

"Where your mind wanders to?" she asks, taking his chin in her hand, having him look in her eyes.

“When I imagine us like this…” His words are broken by a low groan as he pulls her even closer, intoxicated by her sweet, sultry aroma. “I cannot help but account for all the ways I could please you…”

Dragging her thumb along his lower lip, her voice lowers, "You need only be in my company to please me."

He breathes in deeply, the warmth of her breath as she speaks and the feeling of her caress upon his flesh sending a wave of pleasure down his spine. Pressing a passionate kiss against her lips, his hand moves to caress her cheek. “If you keep conversing like this with me... I’ll be powerless to wait much longer…”

Rolling off of his lap, Artemis lays out in the thick moss and grass, her hair flowing out around her head. She's a picture before him, the flowers framing her perfectly. Pulling off the thin shift, she lies nude in front of him. Perfectly in her element. He grins and lets out a deep rumble of pleasure as his gaze slowly travels down her body, his hand gliding over the skin of her hip. “I eagerly wish to please you, but the urge to leisurely savor every bit of you in this moment is far too commanding.” Brown eyes fall to her lips and his body begins to tremble with his need for her.

She sits up, her hands pressed into the spongy ground, her arms set wide on either side of her. Her smile is as bright as the constellations above. "Then savor me."

He exhales an excited gasp as he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to hers, his eyes fluttering shut, then opening to admire her figure. Her body is that of an artist’s muse, lithe and supple, with the soft curves he dreamed about in his days of solitude. Trailing kisses down her neck to her chest, his mouth wrapping around the nipple of each of her breasts, sucking and licking until they become hard. He moans against her flesh, his hands roaming over her form as each breath becomes heavy, his gaze burning with desire.

Taking one of his hands in her own, she brings his index and middle finger – smelling of the parchment of old tomes – to her mouth and she places them on her tongue, her lips wrapping around them as she begins to suck. He groans softly as he watches his fingers slip into her mouth. It’s warm and wet and he loses all sense of himself. His mouth falls from her breast with a wet pop and he draws his fingers from her mouth, pressing them to her chest, feeling her heartbeat as a flush overtakes her. "You are perfect." His mouth traces a line down her neck, his tongue gently lapping against her skin. 

The feeling sets her skin on fire, the whiskers of his beard burning against her. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder, Gale."

He licks his lips. “And right now, I'm so entranced by the vision before me I simply cannot take my eyes off of you.” Leaning in close, his body pressed against hers, his lips brush over hers as he gently caresses her thighs, teasing the skin. Their faces sit only inches away from each other, being this close to her, it’s like they are the only two in existence. “I want your lips. I crave your body.” His words are whispered, the volume a gentle rumble as he leans in closer, his breath fanning against her face . “I desire your heart, Tem... to have and to hold, to cherish and to protect from all harm.”

"You already have it. I've been yours since that moment I pulled you free of that portal."

His eyes light up as he hears her words, his breath catching in his throat, his kisses becoming frenzied, passionate. Tracing patterns down the smooth skin of the curve of her waist with fingers stained by ink. “You love me...?” He asks breathily, his lips kissing the hollow of her clavicle.

"Of course I love you.” She looks at him, her brow cocked. “You had reason to doubt that?"

“I struggle to believe someone could find such a heart as mine deserving.” 

Cupping his face in her hands, she gazes into deep, brown eyes. "You deserve all the love in the world, Gale. I know that Mystra hurt you, but I never will. You don't have to prove yourself with me. I adore you, just as you are."

He stares back at her, overwhelmed by the beauty he sees before him. His hand tracing down her cheek, cupping her chin. Her words warm his heart. Kissing her, gentle and tender, his lips sweet and warm as he smiles against her mouth. “I have no reason to believe a woman like you could ever harm me. You’ve been by my side when most would have abandoned me entirely. You deserve only the best.”

"I don't need the best. I don’t need gods. I just need you, Gale. The man before me. You need not be anything else."

His smile fades, but the desire in his eyes remains. “You are everything to me.” His voice a whisper. “I cannot imagine being without you. And I dread the day I can no longer touch your skin, hold you in my arms, and kiss the lips I adore.” 

"Well lucky for us both wizards and elves live extraordinarily long lives. You need not worry about that for quite some time."

His smile returns slowly. “You're far too good to me.” Kissing her gently, he leans down to lay on his back. “Perhaps this is me being selfish, but -” his voice is a low rumble, almost a purr, “I want to experience all of you for eternity.”

Resting on top of him, her chin on his chest, long black lashes fanning against the apples of her cheeks as she smiles. "I can't promise you forever, but I am yours entirely."

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her and running his fingers through her dark hair, his gaze lingering on the way the stars reflect in her eyes. “That's all I need. To be yours.”

She presses her finger to his mouth, quieting him. "No more words, Gale. Focus on the way this feels."  Undoing the ties of his robes, she frees him of the restraints of his clothing. "You are mine."

His body trembles with a deep thrill as she runs her fingers along his chest and shoulders, stripping him of the material that was draped upon his skin. Sliding her hands down the length of his body, she slips her hand down the front of his trousers. Her slender fingers caressing the sensitive head of his cock and his eyes go wide, but her fingers keep his mouth from opening. She strokes the length of him gently as he grows harder with each pump of her fist.

Gaze fixed upon her, Gale swallows heavily, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. “You'll never truly conceive of just how much I admire you.” His voice trails in a murmur as she continues, his eyes closing as shivers course through him. “I want -” His breath catches again, her touch forcing a moan to escape.

Pressing the tip of her nose against his, she smiles as he still can't help but speak. Her wizard who refuses to be silent and just enjoy the moment. "Shhh." She kisses his lips, denying him the breath to speak.

He shakes with pleasure, their gazes locked in a hypnotic dance as she kisses him. He tries one more time, the words stumbling out between short, labored intervals of breath. “I want…” Closing his eyes, his body rests against the soft blades of grass below him as he tries to turn his focus to take in the taste of her. 

Tem looks at him as if she can see the entire cosmos in his eyes, every star, every unseen region of time and space. He often speaks of the astral plane of the gods, a realm beyond the reasoning of any mortal. In this moment however, it's like the shockwaves from the birth of the universe ripple through the sparks between their skin. His cock getting harder in her grip, it starts to throb. It’s too much. Overwhelmed by sensation, he lets her drive him to the brink of madness, his hands slowly roaming over her body, her skin growing ever hotter as the sensations peak. He finally lets out a gasp, eyes wide. His voice is soft, lost to ecstasy. “Tem, I'm -” He can't help himself, the years of loneliness overwhelming him. But before he can reach his explosive end, her hands slip away from him, and rather than having her fingers clenching him tight, her hips lower down upon him and it’s like the rapture of the Weave as his body becomes entwined with hers. Held in the power of her magic. 

She gasps and moans consumed in their bond, and he loses himself to the power she holds over him. Her love is something he wants, something he needs - and by the Weave, his body tells him he has found it. His breath comes in heavy gasps, his hands roaming up her back. “Tem.” Her name falls from his lips, and he can do nothing but stare up at her as her teeth drag over the pout of her lower lip while wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her like the tide. He lets out a deep groan, his body responding to her every movement. There's little doubt of her love now. Dragging guttural sounds out of him as her velvet walls tighten around him becoming too much to bear. “I love -” He tries to continue, interrupted as his chest heaves, squeezing the very oxygen from his lungs.

Her head tosses back, and the wolf shape she usually takes on dares to break free, but she bites it back, refusing to let the beast come out. Remaining every bit the elf Gale fell in love with. "Gods, I love the way you feel," she cries out with tears in her eyes.

Holding her tight, his fingers dig into her hips, his nails catching along her skin. He’s desperate to hold onto sense, trying to memorize the way it feels being inside her, the sounds she makes, but his mind is taken far afield, running wild. 

She presses her forehead to his, her hot breath fanning against his face as she sucks on his bottom lip pulling him into a passionate kiss. Her nails scratch down his chest as her hips roll against him, curving up to take him deeper, the angle she has him held in rubbing against that perfect spot over and over again. It’s magical – there is no other word to describe it. Feeling their energies combine, meld and dance, a song written in the stars. The most natural thing in the world. Gale’s mind spins as the kiss consumes him. The feeling of her wrapped around him, her arousal drenching him – it’s too much to bear. His eyes shut and it feels like his soul has been bared to the world. "Gods..." He breathes, his voice shaky as he lets his body sink into the blanket of greenery. His eyes fixed on her gaze, his heart beating in his ears. Swallowing thickly, a chill runs up his spine and his hands grip her hips, as if to test that this was all real, and not some overly vivid dream.

Tracing her fingertips along the lines of the orb that rests below his chest, the dew of her sweat glistening in the moonlight, she looks down at him with heavy-lidded eyes as the afterglow begins to warm her. “That was…incredible.” 

Her hair blows around her in the breeze and he swears she has the appearance of a goddess. She is the sunrise and the bright glow of the moon all in one and he is in awe. Splendid rapture . Tem is a million symphonies, a thousand ballads, and the finest paintings and sculptures all made manifest in one soul. He can’t look away from her, and in this moment, he knows he never has or will love another except her. His deity, and he the Chosen of Artemis.

#skelly writes #oc: artemis #ship: moonweaver #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #bg3 #gale smut

[haebe-doesart]

dear @i-got-hit-by-a-planet, happy holidays!!! this is my gift for you from the @mcytblrholidayexchange, I hope you like it! :D

beta-ed by @rutellingmeashrimpfriedthisrice tysm for your help!

Summary: Joel and Scar travel the kingdoms selling crystals reputed to give magical properties. Their caravan is always ready for a hasty getaway, for no particular reason.

text under the cut if you prefer:

So, against the odds, it continues...

It starts when Joel tries to sell magic beans to Scar, desperate and not very convincing, and gets an offer of partnership instead. Joel has his reservations at first, but—as previously mentioned—he's desperate. They end up working well together; Scar with his charisma and Joel with his easygoing nature, and when it comes to it, brute force.

The caravan swings off the main path and through what feels like a wall of fully-grown berry bushes, then slows to a stop. The horses snort in protest, Scar exclaims "oh, goodness me!" from inside, and Joel grumbles as he dismounts; was that really a path?

Nevertheless, it appears they have arrived in the Fairy Fort. An abandoned stronghold of a faction long disbanded, nature has overtaken the castle that once stood on the hill. Superstitions and legends spread like wildfire here, and no traveller dares cut back the brambles in the way of its eastern entrance for fear of retribution.

Joel picks the more stubborn branches from his hair and surveys the clearing they're in. It's surrounded by eerily skeletal oak trees, the occasional leaf clinging valiantly to its branch, but the denseness of the trees more than makes up for the thin foliage. Only dappled patches of sunlight reach the forest floor, which is patterned with red and brown mushrooms.

He spots a circle of them ringed by darkened grass and carefully gives it a wide berth as he checks on the horses. Forget superstitions, what were they thinking, letting horses trample through that mess?

The horses have stopped but not stilled. They don't seem hurt, fortunately, pawing at the ground with their hooves. Emerging from within the caravan, Scar slips past Joel to pet them and thank them for their work.

"Who's a good horse?" he croons, running his fingers through their manes. "You are, yes you are."

"Am I, Scar? I didn't know that." Joel asks, amused. He can't help it, really, and laughs when Scar yelps and flails, turning around with a hand on his heart.

"Joel, you can't do that to a man!" he protests. Joel holds his hands up in apology, shaking his head.

"Sorry, sorry!"

After a brief rest, they continue deeper into the grove, proceeding more cautiously. The horses rear occasionally, whinnying at something unknown. Joel hangs strings of bells on the reins, and sews protective charms into Scar's and his clothes. It doesn't hurt to be careful; they're here because they're greedy, not because they have a death wish.

They pass a large swathe of land ravaged by a forest fire. Scorch marks reach up the stumps of trees left behind, soot and ash painting the area in streaks of grey. The air is oddly warm, too, as if the fire had just recently been extinguished instead of having burnt out ages past. Legend has it, this is the place where the undead witch Cleo had her fiery revenge against those who wronged her.

But the place isn't only defined by the legends hanging over it. There's a thriving community of people—who are, presumably, not fairies—set up in the town. It's almost worth the rough journey over, Joel thinks, as they settle into a cosy inn for a meal. Laughter and chatter fill the room, and after they've overcome their reservations about fairy food, it's the most relaxed they've been in weeks. Joel blows the steam off a warm bowl of mushroom stew as Scar charms the diners beside them, pitching an array of protective crystals set into lockets, bracelets, and rings.

They don't need to know the iron chains cost more than the centrepieces. At least they aren't really lying when they say their wares can protect them; iron does help against the fairies reputed to live here. Scar's doing them a favour, frankly.

Speaking of whom, Scar's pitch has progressed from fanciful to outright unbelievable as he gets caught up in the delights of storytelling, and Joel quickly sets down his bowl to intervene.

And continues...

The wheels of the caravan clatter over the uneven path, rocking it from side to side. Leaning against one window, Scar peers outward to the forest. They are departing the kingdom of BEST, pockets heavy with swindled gold, and Scar can't help but whoop in delight. A passing wind sweeps away the sound and loses it amongst the rustling of leaves.

The farther out of BEST territory they go, the sparser the leaves become. Evergreen spruce trees melt into dry, barer branches as the deciduous oaks and birches shed their leaves in the winter wind. The movement of the caravan kicks up a cool breeze, and Scar fancies he sees snowflakes drifting along the chilly air. That is surely just his imagination, however; it is not that cold yet.

Ahead, Joel steers the horses to their next destination. He's humming, cheerful, as is usual after their customary stop at the town of Snowpeak. The people there come from all places, though the locals are used to their tricks. Joel cares more for the company; Etho the trickster is stationed at the Snow Fort, the fortress that gives the town its name. Scar, for his part, is happy to conduct dealings from the caravan alone while Joel attempts to charm Etho, or what Joel does.

There's an exclamation of surprise, and Joel tugs on the reins; the caravan lurches past a fallen tree. The pots by the window swing from their hooks and Scar rushes to their side, hands flying frantically. Ah, the hazards of a moving home.

He settles the assorted plants—succulents and kalanchoes, which will bloom in the springtime—and pats the ceramic pots as if to say "now stay put!".

Behind, the white walls of the Snow Fort are slowly fading into the mist. When the snow comes, it will gather on the spruce walkways and pile against calcite walls, letting the fortress live up to its name. Until then, the most arresting feature of the fortress is its soulsand defences, cleverly built under planks; they leave enemies stumbling while their allies skate past with charmed shoes. Scar has one of those, too—and plenty of fakes that he's sold to curious travellers and prying enemies.

Not that Scar takes sides, of course. No, no; he's completely independent... but Joel does, and Scar likes the leverage it gives him. (That, and he's afraid of Etho—though he'll never say that!)

And continues…

The smoky scent of gunpowder floats about him. Joel carefully transfers the explosive powder onto the waxed paper, holding his breath as the movement sends clouds of dust blossoming into the air. Gunpowder is volatile, light, and exceedingly easy to ignite. Joel resists the urge to brush the specks of grey from his sleeves; the slightest friction could set the whole thing off.

Later, when there isn't a full pouch of the stuff inches from him. Of all the ways to go, exploding because he couldn't stand getting his clothes dirty is not his preferred one.

He is in a clearing, a safe distance—he hopes—away from their caravan. Through the thick tree trunks, he can hear Scar humming to himself, though he has to strain his ears. Softer still is the sound of a campfire crackling, the contented neighing of horses, and the scratch of ink against paper as Scar writes. It's a domestic little scene that Joel can practically see, made familiar from years of travel, and he is struck with an intense, almost dizzying need to protect it.

Hence why he's doing this, he supposes. The vigilantes known as Smajor and Moon have been worrying at their heels, making trouble for the two of them. Joel intends to send them a message, and he's out of fancy paper, so explosions it is.

Joel reaches—slowly, holding his breath—for a piece of string. With a finger holding the paper in its folded position, he loops the string carefully around the package.

The rest of the mechanism is easy to assemble. The string is tied to a latch attached—say that ten times fast—to a spring, which holds a stopper linked to a string of fishing line in place. Ingenious, really. With the slightest step on the tripwire, the package of gunpowder will tear open and spill into the space between the open latch and the casing. The catch swings back due to the spring, which sparks against the gunpowder, and— boom.

Joel feels pretty pleased with himself for coming up with that. He divides the gunpowder into two packages and slots them into his bag with the rest of his materials. The wax will hopefully reduce any stray friction as he travels to the Scottage, where he'll set the whole thing up.

As he heads back to their campsite, he notices that Scar is indeed sitting by the fire. Joel lingers by the trees, bag hanging from a far branch as he starts brushing the last of the grey powder from his arms. There is a series of soft pops as they ignite, but in small quantities, they're harmless enough. Once he's satisfied, he retrieves his things and returns to his partner.

And continues...

Years ago, Scar took up lapidary on a whim, liking the process of shaping gems and jewels. He learnt how to use the files, templates, rock tumblers, and trim saws; charmed his way into an apprenticeship with a local jeweller. He handled rubies, emeralds, lapis, even a diamond or two. When the money ran low and the mines lost their wealth, it was just a switch to a cheaper, more brittle material.

Scar turns his attention to the pieces of glass in front of him. Or should he say, crystals? His newest batch: a dazzling array of crystals in pink, green, and violet. He picks one up to polish and smooths a finger over the natural-looking bevels. It really is his best work yet. He'd made them on the journey over, sanding and polishing each chunk of glass to a perfect shine.

It is tricky to write on a moving vehicle, though, which is why Scar leaves the intricate details till they arrive. Later comes the ribbons; gauzy, delicate, and most importantly, pretty.

In the lull between customers, or the quiet at the end of the day, he loops lengths of ribbon around each crystal and writes in shimmery ink on perfectly cut paper. Pretty little labels in a flowing script, making fantastical claims of the crystals' properties. Strength, Luck, Protection… Everyone underestimates the power of presentation, and Scar'll be damned if he doesn't use that to his advantage at every opportunity.

They've set up shop in Sunspark, a village on the outskirts of the Southlands. A sta-hall, Joel would call it, because "when in Rome", right?

At this time of day, the cobblestone streets are empty. The air is still, as if waiting with bated breath for something to break the silence. Seated at their stall, Scar watches the sun set slowly, dipping over the roofs of the houses across the square.

It's winter and the days have shortened. Golden light spills onto the counter, catches and refracts through the glass— through the crystals. It catches on Joel's hair as he ducks through the doorway.

"Hey, Scar," says Joel, sleeves rolled up and hair in a bun. His voice is lowered, like he has also sensed the hushed atmosphere. There's a clock swinging from his vest, delicate clockwork outlined in gold and lapis, small diamonds inset to act as miniature stars. It's extravagant and practical, exactly how Joel likes his possessions.

He checks it; the hand ticks closer to night. "Good day today… I'm thinking another day here and it'll be about time we pack up,"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely," Scar agrees. He leans on the counter, attention drifting around the area. A crow pecks at a gap between the cobblestones, the clicks of its beak against stone echoing faintly.

There's a flicker of movement between the houses. Scar tenses. Joel follows his line of sight and swivels around, crouching slightly in preparation.

A strong wind whooshes past.

A man bursts from the shadows, cloak billowing in the wind. For a second, all Scar can see is a deep scowl and the glint of eyes under the hood. Then, he gasps as it is thrown back to reveal a very familiar face.

"Grian?" he can't help but exclaim. Scar knows him; Grian is one of five leaders of the Southlands' most notorious faction, a rowdy bunch called the Spyglasses. Apart from that, well, Scar may or may not have recognised Solidarity, another Spyglass, at his stall yesterday. And he may or may not have sold him... false goods. But that's neither here nor there!

Beside him, Joel yells, "What are you doing here?"

Grian skids to a stop, hair wild and eyes alight with righteous indignation. Scar recognises the look, because it's often directed at him by previous customers. He rises from his seat, readying himself to start running.

Before Grian can launch into a rant—Scar remembers those, too—he pauses and does a double-take. "Scar? Joel?"

"Yes, yes, we know each other's names; we're all very famous people." Joel sighs, waving aside Grian's spluttering objections. He pauses, feigns disinterest as he looks Grian up and down. "We're actually closed, you know, but we'll make an exception for you. I suppose."

"Why hello there, good sir," Scar sweeps into a bow obligingly. As always, Joel brings the managerial aloofness and Scar plays the friendly sales clerk. "May I interest you in some wares?"

"NO!" Grian shouts, laughter creeping into his voice regardless. "No, Scar, you cannot!"

He jabs a finger at Scar, sending Joel into raucous shouts of laughter. Grian slides a glare in his direction; Joel laughs harder. "You scammed Jimmy! Do you know how much I heard about you two liars and scoundrels today?"

"Nooo?" Scar tries for innocence. He knows how much Jimmy, code name Solidarity, talks when he's upset, indignant, or otherwise feeling wronged. That's why they like winding him up the most—and Grian's reactions are just the cherry on top.

Joel has quietened and slunk to Grian's back, a smirk splitting his face in two. There is no threat here, though they'll probably have to leave the town ahead of schedule if they've been discovered. If they can just redirect Grian's attention…

"A— a lot, alright? He won't stop going on about you and your protective crystals," Grian says, disdain dripping from the last two words. Joel makes elaborate gestures behind his back, culminating in a dramatic pantomime of his ears falling off his face from, presumably, Jimmy's constant talking. Scar stifles a snort.

"Wha—" Grian whirls around, suspicious, and sighs. "Very funny, Joel,"

When he turns back, the stall is empty—of both crystals and Scar himself. Joel's snickers linger as the pair melt swiftly into the shadows, disappearing down the winding streets to the sounds of Grian's screeching.

And continues...

For all the glamour of a life of trickery and travel, it has its mundane times. Now, as the first frost breaks across the land, their pace slows in concession to the dropping temperatures and Joel can't help but feel a little restless.

They are in the Southlands again—Amethyst's Peak, nestled deeper into the territory—because Scar has more contacts there. Joel wonders if they'll meet the Spyglasses again. It's too fun to mess with them, really; Grian's dramatic anger aside, they are actually quite friendly with the pair of conmen and there's no end to their shenanigans when they meet.

Business has slowed for Joel and Scar though, now that they have to operate on foot while the caravan is off for repairs. Joel wishes them luck with it; there are splinters and cracks and dirt in every corner, born of a year of constant travel.

In its absence, Scar has gotten them a place of sorts. It's a lovely house, charming even, and especially welcome on a cold day like this. Where the biting wind would have pried its way through the slats of the caravan, the brick and mortar of the house keeps the interior comfortably warm. Joel sits himself by the fireplace and wraps his hands around a mug of wine. Scar is sat by the window, nose practically pressed to the glass as he watches the snow pile on the street outside, falling in not so much flakes as clusters of snow.

"Scar..." Joel calls to him, tipping his head at an angle to stare sideways at his partner in crime. "I'm bored."

"Well, why don't you look at all this snow!" Scar suggests and turns to look at him, delight evident in the expressive flying of his hands. Joel doesn't want to look at some boring snow. Plus, he's still shivering from that morning, when a sudden heavy snowstorm sent them sprinting across the street back to shelter.

He says as much to Scar, concluding with a pout, "And I didn't get to buy those books, even though I've been looking bloomin' everywhere for those!"

"Hey, that's not too bad!" Scar says. His hands fly some more. "We can go back tomorrow, if you like."

"Yeah, tomorrow, while a sheet of solid ice falls on our head out there." Joel retorts sarcastically. Scar follows his gaze out the window, where the thick flurry of snow blocks out the street. The glow of lanterns shines weakly through the onslaught; still, it is hard to even make out the silhouettes of the houses opposite.

"…You have a point." He concedes.

"But I'm about to go mad here; what can we even do?"

"That's the question, isn't it, Joel?" Scar sighs. There's a certain distant quality to his sigh that suggests Joel is in for a long speech. "I don't have the faintest clue. We've been on the road for so long—don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change that at all—but now that it has been changed, Joel, against our will; we are at a loss. Perhaps we've gotten too used to the rapid pace of…"

"Let's play cards," Joel heads off the incoming introspection. He searches his bag—still unpacked, shoved into the closet while they took in as much of the town before winter hit in full force—for a deck. Scar abandons a sweeping gesture and hurries to his side, making grabby hands for the cards.

They don't get to the 'playing' aspect of playing cards. Scar is too engrossed in shuffling them in increasingly elaborate ways, and Joel eggs him on and attempts to vanish an ace up his sleeve. Still, amidst the falling card towers and the scattered cards of a failed shuffling, the snow gathers around them.

Joel cuts the deck of cards again and starts anew. He thinks of winter days and sunny laughter, of endless unlikely tales and the clink of glass-turned-crystal. His pocket watch ticks on, counting the seconds until they're ready to go on the road again. Together— always.

#mcytblrholidayexchange2023 #joel smallishbeans #goodtimeswithscar #last life #magical mountain #trafficblr #hae wrote #YIPPEE!!!!!! IM SO HYPED FOR REVEALS!!!!

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The End of the World

She hobbled beneath the canopy of soul-oaks. Their bone-white branches intertwined, blocking out almost all light, casting a haze of crimson onto the grove. Her body felt infinitely heavy, like she was dragging the weight of a world with her. In a way, she was.

Her golden trail of blood dragged like a snail's slime, staining the scarlet leaves with the last dregs of a god's life. Her wings drooped on the ground, limp. It was the end of her, and she knew it. Yet she continued walking, through the faint dappled light filtering from beneath heart-leaves, into the clearing beyond.

Her job was completed, her succession settled. She could lay down her arms and die peacefully. Oh, how her heart yearned to do so, and her body was falling apart with the need to take a final nap. But she knew she would never awaken, and she had one tiny task to complete.

In all her millennia of wandering through the planet, she had never found the End of the World.

The soul-trees were thinning to reveal a rocky beach, and a pitch black starless sky. Wind howled against the remaining trees, screaming a mournful harmony to a world long gone. Just a few steps away lay a precipice, a thin carcass of stone overlooking the Void. An endless darkness. Infinite. All consuming. The End of the World.

And if she had it her way, it would be her end too. No reincarnation, no restless ghost roaming the galaxy in search of a cure to its lassitude. No, she would have nothing but eternal sleep.

The wind caroused with her hair, toying with the battle braids, nipping at her exposed skin like a rambunctious child. But she had no eyes for anything save that ledge. 

Sour bile and sickness. That was what she smelled of. A dying woman. She had lived so long, so very very long. Long enough that she thought herself to be immortal.

"But the sun will rise and the mountains will fall and all things will come to an end," she croaked, reciting a trace of a poem from another age. The rest had been lost to the void, just as she was soon to be.

One step closer to the edge. Another step. The pain was excruciating, every millennia of her life weighing down on her body. 

She had been beautiful, once. Fearsome, awe-inspiring, worshiped by all. But she was old, old, old beyond belief.

And her skin, once clear and milky pale, had crumpled like paper, folding and crinkling until her face was an old map of all her travels, becoming ashen and waxy.

Her hair had once been the passionate scarlet of fire, her eyes the crimson of blood and battle-lust. The colour had been drained away from her, leaving naught but a shell of her magnificence. 

She had towered over the mere mortals, made them cower and whinge with her great magic. Yet here she was, hunched over herself, unable to so much as summon a spark. 

She would have wept to see herself reduced to this, but she was too weary to feel such passions. 

One more step. She stood on the tip of the ledge. The Void stared into her, an ancient enemy. She met its gaze evenly. From the very beginning, she knew she would die in its maw. 

In the fathomless depths, she saw her past. Empires wrought by her hand and obliterated at her will. Civilisations, rising and falling like ants. Temples and cathedrals alike raised in her honour, whilst every other god dwindled to nothing. Feasts and festivals in her name, vast tributes of meat and wine. Wars of faith, crusades to appease her. Luxuries and pleasures beyond a mere mortal's comprehension.

But everything she had treasured, everything she had truly loved, was gone. Her children, slain at her own hand to keep her throne. Her sisters, lost to the annals of time. Her love, her one true love, resting beneath the ocean waves. And now, she would die too. Her name would be snatched away by the wind. Her statues and temples would crumble into oblivion. 

She closed her eyes. Clumsy fingers removed her necklace, the mark of her power, tossing it onto the sandy bank. Perhaps someday, an explorer might stumble upon it. With the last dregs of her heart, she wished it was so. In the end, she did not want to be forgotten.

She took the last step.

Then she fell into the Void, and welcomed its cold embrace.

#writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #short story #writing community #fantasy #spilled ink #Wrote this after seeing the end of the world in Norway #You should go check it out its really pretty