#on our fates alight

[autumnslance]

BLINDSIDED and HELPED for the meme!!

(Yes these are taking me awhile. I do not control the rate at which I respond to prompts. You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. *pokes OCs with a stick, gets slapped back*)

send HELPED for a scene from my muse's past in which someone helped / saved them

“I can’t use magic,” Aeryn whispered, the admission stinging. “I’ve tried and tried, and I know it’s there, but it just…won’t come.”

The old woman nodded. “Perhaps one day you will find out how to change that,” she said. “But there is more than magic.”

Aeryn couldn’t help wrinkling her nose.

The old woman chuckled. “Yes, all the platitudes and reassurances you’ve doubtless heard before—but also more than that. Aether is not the only way in which we interact with the world.”

“But aether is everything,” Aeryn answered.

The old woman chuckled. “Spoken like a well-taught academic. Well, my teachings are not those of a university curriculum.”

Aeryn watched and listened, a small frown on her face, head tilted in curiosity. There were those who said the old weaponmaster’s wife was a witch. She hadn’t given the rumors any thought, when her stepfather had arranged her instruction for her requested nameday gift.

The old woman smiled, reaching a hand out. “Tell me, dear, in all your many readings, what did you learn of akasa?”

—-

(This one got a little long, so going below the cut, BUT how about something from my Free Company’s FF16 AU "On Our Fates Alight"…)

send BLINDSIDED for a scene from my muse's past in which they were betrayed or shocked by what someone did

Everything was supposed to have been better, once Emelia brought her children to Thavnair.

Away from Coerthas, away from its never-ending war. Away from the Inquisition and the dragoons, away the betrayal of the village priest.

Away from the loss of her husband and home.

Instead, she stood in the opulent chambers of the Meghaduta, trying not to tremble in the face of divinity.

The great wyrm sighed heavily, pain in his motions. Her eyes flicked to the wounds and burns scarring his massive form. “Worry not,” he intoned, the words clear in her mind as much in her ears. “I shall heal.”

“I’m so…sorry,” she said, the word trite and absurd for the enormity of the situation. “I had no idea…”

Aeryn, so small and young, so timid now since the events in Coerthas, had panicked—and the Manusya Eikon of War, Asura, suddenly stood in her place, roaring in fury, light and fire and storm flashing with each of her many blades.

So Zaine, to protect his sister, had rushed forward, heedless of danger. And then in his place stood Daivadipa, the Mrga Eikon of War, drum rumbling, snakeheads hissing, as he met Asura in battle.

It had taken the island’s protector and true ruler, the Great Wyrm Vrtra of the First Brood, to stop them from leveling Vanaspati.

Her children were Dominants. Her children were Dominants.

Vrtra shook his head. “Thou has but recently returned to our shores, and while the Eikons often take time to manifest, thy recent struggles hath primed thy children to accept the gods’ favor.”

Favor. Not how they would say it in much of the world. Memories of the Inquisition, rumors of Garlean hunters, crowded her mind.

“What do I do?” she asked, voice small.

“The children must be guided, as well as guarded,” the wyrm answered. “They shall be my wards, and I will teach them to control the divinity within. To the rest of the world, they shall be under the care of the Satrap—those of Alzadaal’s line who maintain my secrecy. You understand you are now part of this secret.”

Emelia nodded, mouth dry. “I want to stay with them.”

“Of course,” Vrtra replied, a warm gentleness in his tone she had not expected. “I would not separate them from thee.” He looked away briefly in thought, and she could swear he was frowning. “Emelia, what dost thou know of Aeryn’s Eikon?”

She blinked. “Asura is the Goddess of War; not always well-regarded among our people, who ever strive for peace, under your all-seeing eye. She wields many blades, and has many faces, all aspects of why one fights in war—justice, vengeance, conquest…”

He nodded, stretching his torn wings with a groan. “I hath known many a Dominant of Asura in my time. Yet none have also wielded the power of dragons.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Asura drew not only upon her own power, but upon Aeryn’s own. The inherent qualities of her bloodline have affected this manifestation of the goddess.”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice came in a hoarse whisper, her heart hammering in her chest. What was happening to her baby?

Vrtra’s head hung low. “Many Coerthans carry within them part of my sister, Ratatoskr, betrayed by mortals a thousand years ago. And in the time since, those men call heretics have found ways to strengthen the dragon within, by consuming the blood and essence of other dragons, as their ancestors did her.”

Emelia stepped back, bile rising in her throat. “That’s not how I’ve heard the story,” she said. “They only speak of Nidhogg, and his rage. Regardless, my daughter is five—she’s no heretic, and we’ve never…eaten…a dragon!” The very idea was blasphemy, even if it wasn’t already disgusting.

“No, she hath not committed such a sin herself,” Vrtra agreed. “And yet I sense my sister’s daughter’s blood within her. Thou hast obviously not partaken. Which leaves—”

“No,” Emelia sobbed, clinging to herself.

They had said the old priest was a heretic, secretly corrupting others for decades. Corran had been one of the men in town to spend time with Father Comfraire. Corran had so often worked longer, later, than some of the others, with certain comrades. Strange behaviors, strange scents and stains, strange secrets she had never looked much into; she had her own harmless friendships and interests, didn’t she? She trusted her husband implicitly, why shouldn’t she?

Emelia had seen Asura’s red draconic face, in the place of fiery Vengeance. Heard the goddess cry out in the draconic language as she had slammed magics into the wyrm repeatedly as Daivadipa tried to wrestle her down.

Vrtra tried to continue to explain in his gentle, rumbling tone, but all Emelia could do was fall to her knees and scream.

--

(No I did not proof Vrtra's Elizabethan language maybe later when it goes on Ao3.)

#final fantasy xiv #Lyn Writing #Endwalker #FF16 AU #On Our Fates Alight #Vrtra #Asura #Daivadipa #Emelia Striker #Aeryn Striker #Aeryn Prompts

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

i have done a very bad thing...

(hint: ffxvi and eye color for those who have not played the game)

#ffxiv #fourchenault leveilleur #the forbidden tools #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one) #on our fates alight #IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW

[scalefeathers]

Vierapril - 26 - style

We all deserve to feel beautiful, and to have friends who remind us that we are. Or, the Dominants of Tsukuyomi/Tungli and Valefor enjoy a bit of well-deserved downtime.

(Riven belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm, as does the au in which this scene is set.)

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #vierapril 2024 #vierapril #ffxiv viera #ffxiv hyur #bylti blomstrandi #riven deglass #on our fates alight

[lunarosewood23]

Raven Cross - Dominant of Ratatoskr, Eikon of Song

So you are the hidden incarnation of a dragon who was murdered by your ancestor’s countrymen...

Raven fled Ishgard soon after she had dreams of Ratatoskr’s memories, which scared and enraged her, but she knew she needed to be stronger before confronting Thordan. She often traveled and never staying in one place for too long, soon traveling with the others to Sohr Khai, where Ratatoskr’s aether resonated with her and she Primed in the final arena.

Raven’s magic is more receptive to music and her voice, though her staff channels the elemental magic. She’s heard the music on the winds and uses the melodies she hears to both harm and heal. She seeks peace, as does Raven after learning the truth thanks to Ratatoskr’s memories.

@scrollsfromarebornrealm's AUs inspired me to dabble in crossover hell and I really haven't left, and especially since this also gave me some great lore to work in with XIV's Raven lore. 😁😁😁

#ffxiv #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one) #on our fates alight #Raven Cross #In this instead of Raven going off the rails and killing a bunch of nobles for the deaths of her beloved and older brother #She just has Ratatoskr yelling at her and a group of friends who aren't gonna let her close herself off.

[dawntrailing]

#on our fates alight #takafumi imamura #final fantasy series #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxiv: music #final fantasy xiv: shadowbringers #shadowbringers: final fantasy xiv original soundtrack

[thief-of-eggs]

Headcanon that Kon finally works up the nerve to confess his love to Tim- except he messes up and confesses on April Fools day, so after a long pause where Tim’s heart nearly leaves his chest, he just laughs and says “good one”

And while Kon is momentarily confused (and a little crushed), he quickly is reminded of the date by a less than favorable prank pulled by Bart- and instead of explaining things to Tim, he decides to roll with it

It becomes an inside joke between them both. Kon starts saying “love ya” before every mission- and he means it. But Tim just takes it as a joke, and he pretends it doesn’t make his cheeks flush, pretends it doesn’t make his heart race.

The longer it goes on without Tim confessing back, the bolder Kon grows. He is pretty sure Tim likes him back, given he can hear how Tim’s heart races each time he flirts- but he’s still waiting for the proper confession. And what better way to draw it out than by getting flirtier and flirtier?

“Have a good meeting, baby, I hope they don’t keep you from me for too long”

“Hey there hot stuff, is that a batarang in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes look Tim? Because they really are. Brighter than the whole night sky alight with stars.”

Tim goes insane. He can’t show how much the phrases are affecting him, can’t let Kon know it isn’t a joke to him- so he flirts back. Because why on earth would he be normal and just talk about it?

He starts small, and works his way up to bolder statements. Speaking his heart, veiling the words as bits of their joke.

“Hey pretty boy, you gonna join us on this mission or is your head still in the clouds?”

“Calm down Kon, this is a sparring ring, not our bedroom”

“Can I get a kiss for luck babe? You know I always perform better when I’m around you.”

It’s like a game. Of wits, of wills. Everyone watches from a far with their eyebrows raised, watching the gayest friendship they’ve ever seen as the boys both flirt and flirt, a sort of game of chicken that neither seems to know the rules to.

It takes months for things to escalate so much till they’re essentially just dating. Tim doesn’t realize it until they’re sitting curled up on the couch together after a mission, his head on Kon’s shoulder, their legs intertwined under the blanket.

“We’re dating… aren’t we?”

Kon kisses the top of his head. “Took you a while, Mr detective.”

Tim’s face flushes as he rethinks every phrase Kon ever said to him, before winding back to that first fateful confession.

His heart skips a beat as the meaning dawns on him.

“You love me,” he says, less a question more a statement.

“I do,” Kon replies, fighting off a smile.

Tim’s heart races a mile a minute. He pushes away from Kon to look him in his eyes, his ribs feeling too small to contain his growing heart.

“I love you too,” he says, breathless with the confession.

“I know,” Kon answers, his eyes twinkling. Tim wants to punch him- but then Kon is kissing him, and Tim forgets every hostile feeling.

He pushes their combined idiocracy aside and grabs Kon by his shirt, and pulls the super into him.

#timkon #drabble #egg writes #tim drake #kon el kent #april fools #dc #kon el superboy

[scorpioriesling]

Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien - "Only One Bed"

You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?

You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.

Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.

Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.

You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.

As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.

It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.

Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.

And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.

He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.

"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.

"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.

"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.

"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.

"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.

"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.

"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.

"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.

Some salvation this is.

There's only one bed.

A blessing in disguise.

"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.

"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.

"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.

"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.

"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...

You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.

You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.

Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.

His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.

"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.

"Yes." He frowned.

"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.

"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...

Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.

"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.

"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.

"It's more than okay."

Eris - "Who Did This To You?"

Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.

In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.

The only thing, he swore.

One of many things, actually.

In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...

This was different.

His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.

"Please... please..."

He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.

He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.

Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.

You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.

You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.

He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.

"Please, Eris... someone..."

He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.

His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.

He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.

"Come with me."

He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.

He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.

"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.

Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.

Over. Over. Over again.

You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.

When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.

You were in Eris' room.

You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.

Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#a court of silver flames #acofas #acotar #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #a court of frost and starlight #lucien x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar series

[dellalyra]

𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

pixie says: i got him i got hydro daddy so here’s some celebration fluff ft my babies the Melusine’s.

Imagine Neuvillette coming to you, a small box in his hands and a Melusine skipping alongside.

You had been close to the Iudex for a very long time, two of the eldest beings in Fontaine. The Hydro Dragon and the leader of the remaining Naiads were bound together by fate - spirits and embodiments of the nation’s elements. Although he posed now as the Chief Justice, as you as a florist - you maintained that friendship from all that time ago.

However, his arrival at the beach you would always sit on after work with his small companion, Liath - you recognised - was unexpected. The fact he knew where to find you was enough to set your heart alight.

“Madame Y/N, please do excuse our interruption - I hope we are not intruding?” Neuvilette asks, poised as ever.

“Nonsense, Neuvilette. Come, sit. Hello Liath, how has your day been?” You say, patting the space your large cloak has been spread out on the sand.

Liath immediately pulls Neuvillette by the hand and they sit down beside you, the Melusine immediately climbing to sit on the man’s lap and the soft smile on his face makes your stomach feel warm and fluttery.

“I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance, it appears a skill of yours has eluded my talents. A skill in which Liath is currently searching for.” He says.

“Oh? How can I help?” You smile, turning to sit facing them.

“Liath came to me today, mentioning how much she admired the style you wore your hair in several days ago - however, I am not well versed in the art of braiding.” He says, face extraordinarily serious for a man asking for braiding advice.

“Oh well that is something I can help with! You want your hair to be like mine, Liath?” You ask, patting her small hand.

She nods and turns to Neuvillette who passes her the box on his right. Her small hands present the blue box tied with a blue ribbon to you and you unravel the bow to find a ridiculously excessive amount of hair clips, bows, ribbons and bands laying underneath a silver soft bristled hair brush.

“I was not entirely sure of what accoutrements you would need for this endeavour, Madame, so I collected everything I could think of. I do hope the brush will suffice, it is my own.” The man says, resting his cane against his leg as Liath crawls from his lap into yours.

“This is more than enough, I could braid the hair of every Melusine in Fontaine with all of this!” You smile.

“Can you do my hair like yours, please? The one long plait with a big ribbon at the end?” The darling on your lap asks.

“Of course, sweetling. Monsieur, sit closer - I will teach you how to do this in the event I’m ever occupied.” You say, patting the space beside you, to which obliges and shifts to sit at your side.

You pointedly ignore the hammering in your chest when the breeze wafts his scent toward you: sea salt, fresh air and something cool and calming.

You begin to brush the Melusine’s hair, soft gentle strokes removing any tangles and easing a path for the style.

“So you just gather hair as you go along, make sure you have three strands - and you overlap them like so, see? If it’s tighter, it will last longer - however I find if they’re too tight it tends to give me quite the headache so I’ll do it nice and loose for this little angel.”

Neuvillette watches your fingers weave through the silky strands and deftly manoeuvre it to your will - or rather - Liath’s will.

“And ta-da!” You say, securing the soft pink ribbon at the end.

Liath reaches up and feels her hair, before looking at the small compact mirror you produce from your bag and smiling.

“Oh thank you so much! I look almost as beautiful as you now! Papa - doesn’t it look pretty!” She spins toward the man beside you.

“Beautiful as a pluie lotus, dearest.” He responds.

“I’m going to show Sedene!” She scampers off toward the Palais, leaving you with the Iudex.

Somehow - this became routine. Every day, Neuvillette and Liath would show up to your spot on the beach, or your florist as it rains - and you would fix the hair of the Melusine. However, the second day - Sedene joined too. Then Aeife, then Elphane, then Blathine and soon you had a gaggle of giggling Melusines decorating each others hair in a chain of styling.

“Madame Y/N?” Liath asks about a month into this newfound tradition.

“Yes, sweetling?” You say, finishing up her hair as she turns to curl into you.

“Are you our mama?” She asks, yawning and nuzzling into you.

At this, the Iudex snaps his head from the newspaper he was reading across from you.

“Would you like me to be?” You ask the cuddled up bundle.

“Very much so. You do our hair, and take care of us if we’re not well and give us kisses. And since Monsieur Neuvillette is like our papa - and he thinks you’re beautiful and he feels a lot of love when he looks at you then that would make you our Mama!”

The Melusine has no idea what she’s said.

You snap your head to look at the hydro dragon.

His eyes are wide, newspaper held tighter in his grip as he looks between you and the little gossip.

“Does he now? Well, then - I suppose I am your mama, if you would allow me the pleasure.” You smile, settling a blanket on the sleepy child.

As she drifts off to a well deserved nap - the man turns to you.

“I do apologise, Madame. Liath - I did not expect her to be so free with her words. If my presence makes you uncomfortable I shall take my leave immediately.” His horns seem to droop slightly, and the sky turns a little bit greyer.

“Well - someone had to make a move. After all, I have been waiting for 700 years.” You smirk, shifting to stand and lay Liath on the armchair of your apartment above your shop.

Neuvillette snaps his head to you.

“I - 700 years? That was when -” The man stands up and walks toward you.

“When we met, yes.” You take his hand and pull him to your kitchen - where you can speak without volume concerns.

He looks at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“I have been in love with you since the moment I stormed into your old home with intention of befriending the mighty Sovereign of Hydro.” You laugh, taking your hand and placing it on his cheek to which he subconsciously leans in to - every touch starved ounce of his body singing in delight.

“A Melusine revealing my love for you wasn’t quite my intention, yet I fear my lack of romanticism would have impeded any attempts made by myself.” He says, and you huff a small laugh at him - never giving himself enough credit.

“Yet, as we are here now - I’ll do my utmost. You have enchanted me, body and soul, from the day a young Naiad flung open my doors. I’m sure you’re reasoning for keeping these feelings to yourself are similar to mine - you were far too precious and integral to my life to allow myself the risk of you no longer being a part of it.” He says, stroking a long finger across the rise of your cheek. You agree with him, voicing the same opinion that he was far too meaningful to you to potentially lose, yet you figured he felt for you about 50 years ago - but thought it best for him to figure it all out by himself rather than moulding things for him - given his nature and responsibilities. You can see a trail of shimmer on his lower lashes, this sweet, oh-so sensitive man. You wipe the beginnings of tears from his eyes.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don’t cry.” You smile, seeing him grin down at you and the mirth in his eyes lights your heart.

You tilt your head up to him and he cups your face with his large hands.

“May I kiss you, my darling girl?” He asks in the gentlest voice imaginable.

“Please.”

His soft lips press to yours and you feel as if you’re floating in the purest, warmest most divine pool of water as the clarity of kissing your love sets in. The kiss is gentle, romantic and full of pent up longing - the soft swipe of your tongue across his lower lip makes his hand grip tighter on your waist as you wind your hand into the silky white hair cascading down his back.

He pulls away, both needing a reality check - he looks at you as if to ensure you’re real and you smile at him, pecking his lips once more.

“I love you, Neuvillette.”

“I love you, dearest Mate of the Hydro Dragon”

“And we love you both too!”

The cheerful, loud voices of 3 melusine’s make you both jump as they appear at your door - boxes of cakes and sweets in their arms.

“Liath! Wake up! Papa finally kissed Mama!”

#neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvilette genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin fluff #fontaine #hydro dragon hydro dragon please don’t cry

[louventcavaliersx]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐓.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Prior to the Dance of the Dragon, the vow between Daemon and his paramour lingered without knowing if it will last.

Inspired by the Song of Achilles, Patrochilles. Credit to Madeline Miller for the quote.

fanfiction | House of the Dragon

When Rhaenyra had received the tidings of Lucerys' demise, she crumpled at her place, unable to rein in her sorrow. The passing of her offspring, now her cherished child that she held so close to her heart. All hastened to her side, tending to her as she sought solace in her chamber.

The remnants of the young boy and his dragon washed ashore on Dragonstone.

Dread seized you as you bathed in the balmy waters. You chewed at your lower lip, grappling with the impending storm that loomed over all. None shall emerge unscathed. The dragons shall clash and waltz until one prevails and the other succumbs.

The downfall of the dragons was imminent.

Lost in reverie, you failed to perceive the door creaking open, heralding the entrance of the man. Only when his hand alighted on your shoulder did you startle with a soft gasp.

"'It is me, my love." His rich voice banished the tumultuous thoughts. You lifted your gaze to meet his, discerning the unease mirrored in his eyes; he too foresaw the looming conflict.

A hush fell upon you both as you reclined against his embrace, swallowing the lump formed in your throat. You prayed that neither of you shall meet a grim fate. The throne could fall to the Greens, yet your sole concern was your beloved.

Daemon tenderly kissed your temple. "You are tense," he observed, caressing your shoulder blade. "Tell me your worries." A gentle plea. He had never been unkind to you. Never.

You spoke, "Daemon, war is on the coming. Lucerys shall be avenged one way or another, and I dread it shall claim us both." The chamber was filled with a hushed breeze, engulfing the palpable tension and fear that gripped you so tightly. The water now felt icy to the touch, unlike its previous warmth, unlike his touch.

The Prince remained silent, pressing another kiss on your temple. After a pause, he murmured, "In the end, we all meet our demise, my love. Such fears need not consume you. War was inevitable when that drunk cunt of a king seized Rhaenyra's throne in our absence." Yet his words failed to offer solace as intended.

Turning towards him, you twisted your body to face his. Tears once concealed now brimmed in your eyes as you clasped his hands. "I care not for the Greens or the throne. Death does not faze me. It is our parting that I dread. I cannot bear to be parted from you, plagued daily by fear for our safety." Your words were a soft whisper, tinged with regret at the tremor in your voice. How could you rein in your emotions when his life hung by a thread much like yours?

The Prince knelt closer, his eyes reflecting a love unmatched. "The gods are cruel. They shall never grant you lasting joy and triumph."

Drawing nearer, relishing his words, you leaned into his gaze.

"I'll tell you a secret" he raised your chin, locking eyes with you. "I shall be the first." Boldness shimmered in his gaze, deepening your affection for him. "Swear it."

"Why me?"

"You are the reason. Swear it."

Enveloped in fervent love and unwavering devotion to him, you uttered a vow that would alter your lives forever. "I swear it."

A grin played upon his lips.

"I feel like I could eat the world raw."

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #the rogue prince #house of the dragon #asoiaf #x reader

[theelfsongbard]

Counterweight

Pairing: spawn!Astarion x AFAB!reader

Summary: after the epilogue, you and Astarion share a summer’s afternoon together in the meadow. For @oharahive’s breeding kink challenge!

Warnings: epilogue spoilers, breeding kink, mentions of potential future pregnancy

Word Count: 2273

Image source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/760123243354175763/

These past 6 months have been the counterweight to 200 years of misery. Thank you.

He had said those words to you weeks ago, and from then, he had slowly been opening up more and more to you. More frank, more transparent with his feelings than ever before. Today, he is quiet again but you know his mind is anything but, still coming to terms with his grand adventure and the turn of fate that it has brought with it. All at once, he speaks up.

“You bring me the best happiness. You show me the way, where I cannot see and you give me love where I don’t always deserve it. I don’t know how you do it, but I will always be grateful for you.”

The summer breeze blows over the meadow, sifting over the long grass like a wave of verdant green. How lovely it is, to be here, to be loved. Astarion’s thoughts lazily drift as he rests his head in your lap, his eyes shut and sheltered from the sunlight by the wide canopy of an old oak. Slowly he breathes in, bringing cool air into lungs that no longer work. Things have changed drastically in the past 6 months, and now, despite his condition, he found himself flourishing and a free man.

Above him, your gentle humming stops though your hand in his hair continues to massage his scalp with just the right amount of pressure. “And I would give up anything to see you happy for all eternity without hesitation. Has last night’s party been on your mind, love? You’ve been introspective lately.”

“How can I help myself, darling? I can’t help but think about how things could’ve turned out so differently, and yet every iteration I think about, I cannot imagine myself being happier than I am now. You led me here and I… hate to think what life would be like without you being my guiding light. I’d be bitter, resentful, enslaved still by my own will or by Cazador. And I know that I was not always easy to love, but you stayed anyways when it would have been so easy to walk away.”

“You are worthy of love. I have chosen to love you because waking up to your smile every day and seeing you grow into who you are brings me joy. You are my home and my guide. The obstacles we faced together only strengthened our bond.”

Astarion cracks one vermillion eye open, a knowing smirk on his lips, “You like my smile? Why don’t you tell me more?” His voice deepens playfully as he drags you down to press some feather-light kisses on your mouth. This is his way of processing his feelings on complicated topics, as if he is afraid that wallowing in his thoughts any longer will eat him alive even though he has become less self-conscious about openly sharing his thoughts now.

You gasp in feigned scandalousness, “If I feed your ego too much, you might be too full of yourself for tonight’s dinner! I suppose you’ll just have to settle with knowing that you’re just lovely.” The way you giggle into his mouth sets something alight in him and he flips himself over, pinning you down into the grass below him, earning him a squeal of delighted surprise. This time, it’s your turn to lean up and capture his lips with her own, pulling a low rumbling chuckle from deep in his throat that vibrates through his chest and into hers where he presses against you. “Cheeky little thing aren't you?” the sound of his voice combined with the feeling of his arms caging you in makes your heart beat wildly in its ribcage. Nobody plays the game of seduction better than Astarion and the past 6 months together have only given him time to learn exactly what makes you tick.

“If you're worried about me being too full for dinner, I suppose I can always have dinner a little earlier, if you'll permit it. There's always room for dessert afterwards.” his lips graze tantalisingly over the exposed skin of your neck, his nose nuzzling the shell of your ear with care.

The ring of your laugh chimes like a bell on the wind, “Oh, just stop playing coy and come down for a bite then!”

You don’t need to ask twice before you feel his fangs probing for the blood beneath your skin before finally piercing into your neck, you grit your teeth and cling to his arms as he bears down. The feeling of pain never gets any better no matter how many times he feeds from you, but you have gotten used to the icy pricks and the ensuing numbness as he draws the blood from your body into his. It's his chest that warms first, followed by the healthy flush of life that fills his cheeks and… more intimate regions making itself known by the hardening desire pressed into your stomach.

Drunk on the fresh bouquet of your blood, Astarion laps his tongue against the puncture wounds at your neck, capturing the remnants of his dinner as it runs from the site. An appreciative moan pours from his throat, and when he pulls away at last, you can see that his eyes burn with fire and need. Feeding Astarion doesn’t always lead to sex, but the intimacy of the act makes it a very appealing activity for you both and today is one of those days.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about our future as well, what adventures it might hold for us both,” he kisses up your neck, tickling you and leaving you gasping for air as he teases. The only coherent word you can manage to utter is a shaky “yes?”.

“And I had the most interesting chat with Gale at the party.”

You frowned, wondering where on earth he was going with this. There was once a time when he and Gale weren’t on the best of terms with one another, not in the least because he was also competing for your affection when it was clearly already given to Astarion. Although time had mellowed out Astarion’s moodiness and dislike of the wizard, you couldn't help but think that perhaps it was jealousy that had stoked the fire of his appetite today.

“Oh? And what about him?” you squirmed about as his lips found your ear.

“It's nothing about him, but it is about us. You see, he was telling me about a guest lecturer he had at his school, a dhampir.”

Oh. Oh. So that was what was on his mind.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” The implication hung there, tantalising. The idea of children wasn’t a topic that you had broached with Astarion. In all honesty, you had both had your hands full with other things; adventuring, searching for a cure to vampirism, working to rebuild the Underdark for the many spawn that had been released from Cazador’s manse. But now that he had mentioned it, your mind couldn't help but be filled with images of Astarion lovingly gazing down at a small fragile bundle close to his chest, swathed in cloth. Astarion smiling as he held out a finger clutched by tiny hands. Astarion cooing and stroking its cheek as it drifted into a trance, protected from the cruelty of the world by his love. “Astarion.” A familiar tingle of heat fills you and concentrates itself at your core as the thoughts suffocate the forefront of your mind until nothing else surfaces.

“Think of them reaching for us, seeking the comfort of our loving embrace, filling our home with joy in the mornings.” he breathes in wantonly, inhaling your intoxicating scent. You are fertile, and the tang of your blood on his tongue and the scent of it lets him know that your body is ready at its peak to receive a child if you should choose to do so. “I’m ready for a child, if you are, my love.” he breathes it like a promise against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours waiting for your answer.

“Yes. I am ready.” you respond in kind, kissing him earnestly. “Give me your child.”

Astarion’s ministrations grow as much as his enthusiasm. From where he is hovering above you, he growls with a hint of possessiveness and primal joy. The fact that you were willing was a promise of security, of having you by his side in the years to come with the knowledge that you loved him so much that you would choose to create something that would immortalise your expression of love for each other in flesh and bone and flowing blood.

You were his of your own choosing and he was yours. Would always choose you and stand by your side. The thought drives him mad and admist the attention that he lavishes on your lips, a hand snakes down your body, freeing your tucked shirt and undressing you with uncanny dexterity and speed fueled by his need to have you as his partner and his mate. Immediately. To press you down and fill you to the bursting with his essence until his seed overflowed in your womb and blessed you both with child.

His hand is distracted by the curve of your breasts, kneading them gently as he begins to move down your body to lick and suckle on them. The moans pouring from you only serve to heighten his own arousal and fill him with satisfaction as he plays you with all the expertise of a bard with a well-acquainted instrument. When he finally relieves you of your pants, he lovingly dips a finger along your folds, making you buck your hips up, collecting the slick and rubbing it against your clit, revelling in the way you’re already wet with desire for him causing a shiver to run through your body. “Excited, darling?” he dares to tease out with that high giggle of his. The heat in your cheeks only grows as you huff, “you don’t say. Please, don’t stop now.” you're so desperate for his touch, to feel him inside you.

He chuckles, “Only because you’re so desperate -“. He licks a long stripe up through them, but despite pretending otherwise, the hold you have on him is too great and inhumanly quickly, he scrambles back up, his knee hooking up under yours to open you up and pulling himself free from his trousers as he aligns himself with your entrance, coating himself in you before pushing in until he’s fully sheathed in your warm heat. The unexpected stretch rips a stifled yelp of pleasure from you and Astarion can’t help but moan in kind. “Don’t hide, let me hear you.”

Waiting until you’ve adjusted to him, he lifts your knees up to his shoulders, folding you over so that he can bury himself deeper inside. The new position brings you closer to the edge as he thrusts with increasing vigour, losing himself in the need to fill you up completely, imagining his seed taking and the swell of your belly bearing the evidence of your passion for everyone to see. “I want to see you dripping with my seed, fucked full until there’s no room left for anything else.”

“Then do it!” you just about screamed as he reached between you to rub on your clit. “Give it to me,” you sobbed, “until there’s nothing left to give.” the added pressure sent you tumbling over the edge, and your vision blacked out momentarily as your mind tried to catch up with your body, still spasming and twitching around his cock, milking him of all he had as he met his release with a shuddering roar, driving himself even deeper than he had before as he spent himself inside you. He doesn't move to pull out, keeping himself and his spend inside you do as long as possible and the intention of the action makes you clench slightly around his softening cock drawing a hiss from Astarion. “You want to go again, love?”

Catching your breath, from the exertion you couldn't help but drag him down to lay beside you, holding him close as you rest your head on his arm, nuzzling close to his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. It spells safety and tenderness that you know is only reserved for you. “Not right now, Astarion. I'm exhausted, but maybe we do it again another day,” you say with a laugh, “after all, if it doesn’t work this time, we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

“Well,” he says with a lazy kiss, “I’m very on board with your idea.”

“This is nice. This is really nice,” you whisper to him. “I just want to lay here with you forever.”

His hand snakes over to rest on your waist, the reassuring weight grounding you and the gentle press of his lips to your hair making your heart flutter. “Then let’s stay, for a little while longer at least. Close your eyes, darling.” Without even being able to see it, you can hear the smile on Astarion’s lips as he says it. You can’t help but feel a swell of contentment and pride at these moments of softness where so much was said with so few words.

You don't know how long you lay there in the field with Astarion, holding each other as the sun sank below the horizon but the next time you’re pulled from your trance, it’s the stars that watch over you as you anticipate the hopeful possibility of what might come to fruition.

#astarion smut #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #AFAB reader

[autumnslance]

Me: "Eh, it's fine, I don't really have an idea for the FF16 AU my FC's been playing with, there's no eikon that really suits Aeryn..."

Patch 6.5 Hildibrand: "So we're introducing Asura as the Thavnairian Goddess of War, who has light powers and swords."

Me: "....Welp. FF16 AU it is, she's the Dominant of Asura and a protector of Thavnair now..."

#final fantasy xiv #Endwalker #Patch 6.5 #Growing Light #Gentleman Inspector Hildibrand #Asura #Thavnair #FFXVI AU #On Our Fates Alight #Aeryn Striker

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

on our fates alight--the moogling

------

He was going to kill a moogle.

Or two.

Maybe the entire godsdamned settlement.

"You know, you're slightly proving the point by just standing over here and being all dark, mysterious, and broody. Maybe just a little edgy too, kupo."

Maybe all of fucking Dravania.

Heedless of the potential danger it was in, the moogle parked itself next to Odin's Dominant. And then...

"Seb's not a bad guy, Seb's not a bad guy."

It was fucking singing.

"Seb's not a bad guy, Seb's not a bad guy."

Riven? I'm going to go on a killing spree. Sebastian transmitted mentally--as loudly as he could. No response from Valefor.

"Seb's not a bad guy, Seb's not a bad guy."

#ffxiv #ffxiv-ffxvi au (the other one) #on our fates alight #if you are wondering if sebastian gets his own dark-knight esque moogle song and dance number...THE ANSWER IS YES

[scalefeathers]

vierapril - 28 - pride

Tsukuyomi/Tungli isn't as, shall we say, volatile as some eikons, but that still doesn't mean you wanna get her (or her Dominant) mad.

(undoctored image and additional fashion phots below the cut)

#vierapril #vierapril 2024 #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv viera #on our fates alight #bylti blomstrandi #ffxiv astrologian #ffxiv red mage #screenshot edit #my art #procreate

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 11

royal flowers series masterlist

prev | next

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni. but it's finally time for some fucking SMUT!! piv, a little bit of dress-tearing, a teensy bit of mutual masturbation, grinding, fingering, somewhat of a fuck-or-die situation if you squint, kind of a little soft

a/n: did y’all miss our boy? i missed our boy.

Anakin slips back into the party wordlessly. There’s too much to think about. He finds you almost instantly, his feet taking him to you on instinct as though there’s some sort of magnetic link between the two of you. His hands rest at your hips as you speak to one of the senators, while his lips press into your temple. You’re quick to dismiss the Senator, feigning the excuse of a headache as you slip your hand into Anakin’s and stride out of the banquet hall. 

“What is it?” You ask him in a soft murmur, not wanting to be heard by unfriendly ears. 

“Not here,” Anakin responds, squeezing your hand softly. He can’t find it in him to let go of your hand, and every time he thinks to, it’s like his muscles only fight his mind, gripping your hand tighter. The parts he tamped down for so long, that possessive ugly side of him that he thought he’d finally outgrown thanks to you, makes its way to the forefront of his mind. You don’t even want him, you see him as just a friend, but Maker, there’s something carnal inside Anakin that wants to claim you as his. He wants to sink his teeth into your neck and leave bruises that won’t fade. You’d be his, and not just for show— no, he wants you to know that you’re his too. 

The thoughts in his head make him feel sick; it goes against everything he’s stood for, all his life. He wants to raze the world to the ground, all for you. And if you reject him, he wants to burn the ashes. But Anakin knows it’s wrong. He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. The both of you have a friendship that is still fragile— it took so long to build it to what it is now. There’s trust, but it wasn’t always there. These thoughts aren’t him. Anakin’s distinctly aware that it’s an amplification of all those desires he repressed, but it’s amplified for a reason. His oath to the dark side is already eating at his soul, parasitic and corrosive. 

He needs to tell you what happened. 

“Anakin, are you okay? You feel feverishly warm,” you say, but Anakin only holds your hand tighter and walks faster, practically dragging you all the way to your shared room, slamming the door shut before he lets go of your hand. It’s so incredibly difficult to be around you right now, because every desire that he repressed for months around you is now clawing through his chest, unfiltered, unabashed. He wants you, and his soul is screaming at him to just give in. It’s the influence of the Dark Side, his inability to suppress his urges. 

“It’s Chancellor Palpatine,” Anakin says through gritted teeth. He’s starting to feel genuine pain now. Years and years of Jedi conditioning being split down his body, every memory of anger and hatred and desire and love all coursing through his body, his nerves, setting his skin alight and stealing the breath from his lungs. 

“What do you mean? Anakin, you look sick,” you say, reaching up to his forehead to touch his skin before he swats your hand away. 

“He’s Darth Sidious,” he responds, not bothering to respond to your concern. He’s locked in on you now, predatorial. His heart’s out of control, beating wildly as control and desire war within him. 

“Anakin, please, you need to explain more. You’re scaring me,” you say, watching him cautiously. He looks a mess. He hadn’t looked this disheveled, strands of his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat when you left for the ball. And that look in his eyes, that look of something wild that sets your own heart racing. 

Anakin closes his eyes. He needs to get himself under control. He knows how to, doesn’t he? All that Jedi training, but that’s not the problem. The problem is he wants you. So bad he can taste it. He wants to run his tongue up the length of your body, feel every inch of your skin with his tongue. 

Forget that. Clear your mind, he reminds himself. 

“When we were out there, I told Palpatine—Sidious— about the nightmares I’ve been having. Nightmares about you dying. He began to tell me about Sith legends, about a Lord that could control death itself. He, he offered me the power to save you—“ 

“Anakin, I’ve told you this before, that’s not what I want—“

“Let me speak,” he snarls at you. He’s sure if he looked at you, he’d see the hurt on your face. But he can’t coddle you right now. His body’s on fucking fire. “I swore his fealty to him, to the dark side, because I thought it was knowledge I, we, could use. But it came at a price.” 

“Oh, Anakin,” you whisper, your voice pained. “I never wanted this for you. Never intended for you to get caught up as a spy.” 

“Well it doesn’t fucking matter what you wanted for me now, does it?” Anakin snaps, opening his eyes to glare at you. A mistake. His anger is quickly overtaken by desire, starved and depraved. He knows his Force signature is spiking, and he’s too stretched thin to pull it together. Distantly, Anakin recognizes the threat that exists now; if he represses his desire for you, allows it to build and build and build before it shatters, Palpatine will know something’s wrong. 

“Anakin, please,” You plead with him quietly. “Please, just tell me how I can help.”  

“I need you,” Anakin says. The words slip out of his mouth before he can catch them, like sand falling from his fingers, something ugly and carnal. You blink in stunned silence, and he forces himself to think of some possible explanation. “It’s the Dark Side. Sidious thinks I wanted you enough to turn to the Dark Side, which means that the Force is now influencing me to mimic that amount of desire.”

A lie, Anakin knows. There’s no amount of Force that could plant a desire in him that wasn’t already truly there. But it’s a little white lie that won’t hurt you, right? What’s the difference if he actually wants you or if it’s just the Force if either way, if he doesn’t have you, his cover will be blown? 

“And it’s— it’s hurting you?” You ask him quietly, thoughts running through your head that he can’t quite place. Anakin just closes his eyes and nods in shame. “Then take me,” you say, quiet but assured. 

“I can’t let you do that,” he argues with you, but his resolve is slipping. He needs to get away from you. The part of Anakin that was raised a Jedi is urging him to run, to get away from you just to protect you. The part of him that he’s been fighting his whole life wants to tear your clothes off and fucking devour you. 

You hesitate before him, battling your thoughts before something takes over you and you’re grabbing the front of his suit, lips meeting aggressively as you press yourself close to him. His cock throbs as your lips move against his, teeth and tongue tangling messily as you attempt to undress him. He walks you backwards into the wall, hands finding your ass to hoist you up and allow you to wrap your legs around his torso. Anakin grinds against your center desperately, seeking some sort of movement as you kiss him sloppily. A groan sits in his throat when your hand tangles itself in his hair, pushing his mouth closer to yours. 

He parts his mouth from yours, moving to your neck to drag his teeth down lazily along your artery. Anakin’s hips keep rocking against yours, that familiar ache driving him entirely as he paws roughly at your body.

Maker, it feels good, your body so close to him like this. But it’s not enough. He can still feel the layers of clothing between you, and it’s like he’s not even aware of what he’s doing when his hands tear the seam at the front of your dress like it’s paper.  

“Sorry, princess,” Anakin laughs as your tits spill out, turning around to toss you on the bed before his mouth finds your nipples, the warmth of his mouth making you arch almost involuntarily into his mouth as he settles himself between your thighs again, dropping his hips in between your spread thighs as he desperately seeks that sweet pressure on his aching cock. “I’ll get you a new one,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue against the skin of your breasts. His hands accompany his mouth— squeezing, pinching, playing with them until you’re dripping and aching for him. 

“Maker, you’ve got such nice tits, huh, princess?” Anakin asks you, sitting up to throw his suit jacket off and tug his shirt off. He doesn’t bother with fully taking his trousers off, only managing to unbutton and tug them down to his mid thighs before his desperation forces him back between your thighs. His hands tug your skirt up to expose your soaked panties, grinding his still-clothed length against them as he mouths at your neck. His hands are roaming all over your body desperately before one hand settles at your ass, squeezing as he rocks against you.   

“Anakin, I need you,” You moan, your hands running down the expanse of his back to press him closer to you. Your nails are leaving little crescent-shaped indents in his back with every rock of his hips against yours, and it’s making him go fucking crazy. 

“Sucking on your tits got you this worked up, princess?” He asks you teasingly, biting your lip. His hand strays to your cunt, tugging the fabric to the side before his fingers collect the slick that’s gathered there. He thumbs at your clit, moving in slow, gentle circles until he finds the spot that makes your body twitch under his ministrations, grinning against your lips as he plays with the bundle of nerves. He waits until you’re panting and moaning before easing one finger, then a second, into your tight, slick hole. 

“Oh, baby,” he moans, pulling away from your neck to watch his fingers fuck your cunt. “Maker, you should see this, your filthy little hole taking my fingers so fuckin’ well, pretty thing.” 

“Anakin,” you moan, your own hand straying to his cock and wrapping your hand around his shaft. Your hand matches the rhythm of his fingers in your cunt, making him drop his head to the pillow as all thoughts flee him except the feeling of your pussy and your hand wrapped around his cock. “Want you inside me so bad,” you whimper, stroking him lazily before reaching to squeeze and tug at his balls. 

“Can’t say no to that pretty voice of yours, princess, not when you ask me so nicely,” He says, pulling your panties off from your thighs, down to your calves, where he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your ankles before tugging the cloth off entirely. You’re still donning the remnants of your shredded dress, but you’re too dizzy with lust to care. 

Anakin settles between your legs again, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, dragging your hand down his abdomen to angle his cock right towards your aching hole. 

He hums with barely-restrained want when his tip is fit into your slick entrance, shallowly thrusting the fat head in and out while you adjust. “Feels like I belong in here,” Anakin grunts, slowly easing the rest of his length into you. “Taking me so well, princess. Maybe I should’ve done this earlier.” 

You laugh almost deliriously in response, pulling him down to your level to kiss his mouth fiercely. It’s messy, lips and tongues melding together imperfectly as he drives his hips into you. His voice shapes itself into your name, moaning breathlessly as he finds sweet relief in you. 

“Why’d you have to feel so fucking good, huh? Makin’ me feel like switching to the Dark Side was worth it,” Anakin groans. His hips drive into yours sharply, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot with each move. He finds a rhythm with ease, sinking deep into you with each stroke of his body. 

“Anakin,” you babble, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your body takes it all in — the heat and pressure of his body on yours, his hands roaming up your body, the feeling of him inside you, so deep that your pelvis is flush against his. You can feel your slick dripping to your inner thighs, to his balls, making a mess of it all. Worth it.

“What was that, princess?” He laughs at your fucked-out face, pressing a kiss to your temple. You can feel him smiling against your skin, rocking his body into yours, hear the smack, smack, smack of his hips against yours. 

You clench around him as you feel yourself near your climax, and Anakin groans, but his rhythm remains unfaltering, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure— both yours and his. He thumbs at your clit, pushing you over the edge as an orgasm spreads across your body. Pulsing warmth spreads from your cunt, drowning you in waves of pleasure as your vision whites out at the edges. Anakin’s only barely able to pull himself out of your tight heat, painting your stomach with his cum. 

He finds himself laying down by your side, basking in the afterglow with you. It seems to him that there’s altogether too much to say, so he’ll say nothing at all. He finds himself running his thumb over your cheekbones gently as you blink sleepily at him, finds his heart leaping out of his chest when you cradle his jaw with your hand. He’d like to think that means something, wants it to mean something so desperately. And when he leans in to kiss your hair, his mouth says the things his voice will not, his lips moving almost imperceptibly against your skin. 

I love you.

He hopes you know it, somehow.

#smut #my writing #distortionbobble's fics #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #reader insert #anakin x reader #star wars smut #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #royal flowers #royal flowers series

[little-diable]

Victory - Finan x Reader x Sihtric (smut)

I rewatched the last episode of TLK yesterday, so I had to write this drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Basically pwp, the three fuck in their new chambers

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), unprotected piv, threesome

Pairing: Finan x fem!reader x Sihtric (1.3k words)

picture credit to the owner

“You know,” Finan’s voice had a rough undertone to it, staring down on (y/n), who was kneeling in front of her two lovers. “Now that we are finally here, after all these years, I think it’s time for us to properly claim you, as ours, as part of our new life.”

Just hours ago they had taken Bebbanburg, fighting their way to victory with blood sticking to their features, blood that had been slowly washed away by the pouring rain. Some may call it the gods wishes, some may call it luck. But (y/n) couldn’t care about fate, not about luck, at least not as she was kneeling naked in front of Finan and Sihtric. With dilated, lust-blow pupils she took in their frames, how the two towered over her with exposed, tensed muscles, with grinning lips, and pupils filled with anticipation.

“I think I lost count on the amount of times you’ve claimed me before.” (Y/n)‘s teasing words were swallowed by her gasp, head forced back by the hand Sihtric used to grasp her hair. The Dane had an almost challenging gaze swimming in his pupils, wondering if she’d dare to speak up again.

The rules between the three were clear, burned into her mind and body like a prayer she’d speak on her knees, with hands interlaced, and her eyes closed – if she’d pray to the Christian God that is. But now, as (y/n) was still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a strongly brewed ale, she couldn’t help but smirk, forgoing her command to stay quiet in moments like these. “You know, I don’t think it’s fair that you’re allowed to claim me, while I have to do whatever you ask me to.”

“Look at that, Finan, I told you, our victories make her arrogant.” Sihtric’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he studied Finan, the grin widening on the man’s lips, how he ran his hand along his beard. 

“I guess we need to hump her arrogance out of her, but first I need to stuff that greedy mouth of hers.” Before (y/n) could even begin to understand what was happening, Finan had freed his twitching cock, pushing it right past her lips, into her mouth. A surprised gasp left (y/n), eyes instantly finding Finan’s glistening ones, hoping that she’d never forget the lustful expressions tugging on her lover’s features. Finan fucked her mouth without holding back, cock forced deeper and deeper down her throat as if this was his last time to feel her, a starving man aching for the smell of cooking food and freshly brewed ale, a mere dream he’d cling to till his last breath leaves his lungs. 

Sihtric watched the scene in front of him unfold, hands working on his cock, trying to match the rhythm of (y/n)’s mouth, how she worked on the parts her mouth couldn’t reach with trembling fingers. The Dane couldn’t help but thank his gods for blessing him with (y/n), for pushing the woman into his and Finan’s life, glued to their sides till the sun would no longer alight the horizon, calling darkness to rest over the lands they keep fighting for. 

“That mouth is the Devil’s work.” Finan’s words were paired with sharp intakes of air, trying to breathe through the clashing waves of lust that tried to drown the soldier, hoping to swallow him whole as his high caught up with him. His head rolled back, hand grasping her jaw to keep (y/n) from moving away, set on filling her cheeks with his cum. “You’ll be a good girl for us tonight, right?”

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, could only hum around his cock with the corners of her mouth burning and her wrists trembling in pain. No matter how many times she’d lay with Finan and Sihtric, she still wasn’t used to their stamina, to the way their bodies worked, a mystery amongst those keeping other restless souls awake late at night. 

Her eyes met Sihtric’s, getting lost in the pupils that had watched more humans die than one could count, and yet the man emanated so much love, so much calmness, she couldn’t help but search his closeness at any given chance. With one hand she reached out for Sihtric, guiding him closer, reaching for his cock to push him over the edge as Finan fucked her mouth, chasing his orgasm. 

The moans of both men filled the room like sounds of victory, betokening the end of another successful battle. Finan’s cock twitched in her mouth as the man suddenly let go of her, gently pushing himself away from her, the same time Sihtric stepped away, pushing (y/n) down on the fur covering the cold ground. 

With Sihtric positioned behind her and Finan in front of her, the men got back to work, wanting to fill her with their cum, to leave their marks on her in the most primitive ways. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close as Sihtric’s fingers brushed through her slit, collecting drops of arousal, finding her pulsing bundle. Her moans clawed through her, struggling to move her hands, to cling to Finan as Sihtric pushed into her without another warning.

“Oh gods, I–” (y/n) couldn’t speak, struggling to give room to the emotions thumping through her system, to the things both her lovers were making her feel. The raspy laugh clawing through Finan forced her to open her glassy eyes, pulled against his chest as her free hand worked on his cock. 

“The gods won’t help you now, love. You’re ours, ours to hump, ours to claim, ours to mark.” Sihtric’s words had an almost teasing undertone to them, leaving her trembling, deeply exhaling against the crook of Finan’s neck. Like ships sailing through the rough sea, their bodies clashed together with every ferocious thrust, allowing Sihtric to bury himself even deeper inside of her, body made to fit the one of her lover. 

The three of them would die for one another, giving their last breaths if it meant rescuing the others. Perhaps it was the path fate had pushed them onto, born to find the others, to form a trio that couldn’t be broken apart by wars, by raging fires, by those that wanted to hurt them. No, they’d forever stay like this, linked together. 

“I‘m so close, please, please let me.” (Y/n)’s voice shook, eyes squeezed shut as she added more pressure to her grasp on Finan’s cock, pushing the man closer and closer to the edge. She could feel Sihtric’s fingers digging into her hips, leaving marks on her skin as he chased his own high, set on filling her with his release. The eyes of both men found one another, wordlessly communicating with smirks glued to their lips, set on pushing her over the edge with them. 

Their moans blended together, a sound so sinful they couldn’t help but wonder if anybody close was listening to them. (Y/n)’s eyes rolled back into her head as she came with both men following moments later, leaving their stain on her with their cum. The three of them were heavily breathing, not daring to part just yet as they allowed the heavenly feeling to wash through them, searching one another’s closeness. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, love, that was only the beginning.” And with a smirk tugging on her lips, (y/n) kissed Finan as Sihtric pulled out of her, watching his cum drip down her thighs with a proud smile.

#sihtric smut #finan smut #sihtric x reader x finan #the last kingdom imagine #Finan x Reader #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom

[snapscube]

favorite non-endwalker track? (^ has not reached it)

Feel like it would be from Shadowbringers most likely, probably either A Long Fall, Insatiable, or On Our Fates Alight.