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sevsdollette · 2 years ago

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Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/124546213#workskin

content warning: still smut. (MDNI) they’re at the brothel this time. fingering, edging, strap on. bondage and like dub con, i guess? obviously reader is into it but Sevika just kinda does what she wants with her to teach her a lesson. brat taming.

summary: It seems like she’s not a customer anymore. Your night could’ve been peaceful, and surely your coworkers would be jealous of you taking their business.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

note: this one’s fun. tell me why i cared enough about zaun currency to read a reddit post to learn about it. probably still got it wrong too bc i skimmed :/ still in love with her and trying to include more backstory. the reader is like very much based on my arcane oc because why not? it’s my writing i do what i want. also i just really like that story so i want to put it out there. anyway, this one is like just all smut. not much fluff, sorry, but the next one will have plenty of playful banter. hope you like :) (proofread? never heard of her)

—————— 18+ ——————

Life at Babette’s wasn’t nearly as bad as some could picture it. The job itself already gave you a place to sleep—a roof over your head. You were at a point where you were worth enough that only tolerable customers came through. Sure, you had your share of creeps, but most were clean and civilized.

Babette was like your family at this point. You’d been working for her since you turned 18. She had been promising you a job for years before that but wouldn’t allow it until you were old enough. The enforcers would take one look at a minor in her house and arrest her, even if you weren’t working. The day you turned 18, you got off the street.

The worst part was the enforcers. They would raid the place, looking for any drop of shimmer or illegal coins. Some were just trying to do their job. Others would pin you to the ground and cuff you if you blinked at one of them wrong. They’d have their fun teasing you, trashing your room “searching” for illegal activity, before spitting on you and leaving with nothing.

In another life, you were a fighter. In that life, you’d had your fair share of enforcer blood on your hands.

But in this one, you were already too beaten down to care.

Piltover had taken everything from you, much like it did to everyone else. You were one of the only workers that didn’t accept Topside clients. They could go fuck themselves; they didn’t need your help.

That was part of the reason fucking Sevika gratified you so much. It made you feel like you were really pissing off the enforcers, screwing the crime ring’s best fighter. You were helping her grow her forearm strength that night.

You hadn’t run into her since that night. It had been about a week and you’d been lying low. You never knew with those sorts of situations. People could always have ulterior motives. Besides, the lesser known brothel down the road had been raided a couple days ago and you were preparing for the day they came to you.

Sevika surely intrigued you. Given the chance, you would fuck her again, but you knew the likelihood of that. She was too important to hook up with the same person twice. She had every woman in the undercity at her disposal. You were just a whore.

—

The night was still young as you sat up after your last client. They were an excited couple that was much too interested in having a third.

Some of the party left a little disappointed.

In the end, the husband was just watching you take care of his wife. The idea made you chuckle even now.

On your bedside table was your payment. Five silver and two bronze. They didn’t tip well.

Your room at Babette’s was one of the largest there. Lavish curtains hung from the ceiling like it was a deep purple and black circus tent. Silver beading and faux gems hung around the banisters of your canopy bed. The lighting came from low lamps and dripping candles scattered around the room.

The bed, of course, was the centerpiece. It was even on a raised platform compared to the rest of the room. It was a large king with the softest silk a Zaunite could ever touch. There were secret hooks and straps hidden on the sides for easy access, and the bedside tables were packed full of toys.

Other than the bed, There was a small lounge sofa, a mirror, a long plush rug, and a swing. There were other small pieces of furniture around like cushion chairs and little tables, but nothing to be paid attention to.

You got used to your feet and walked down to the other half of the room. You approached the mirror, checking if they left any marks and if they messed up your makeup too badly.

Everything seemed good, and you checked the rest of you. You were wearing a tight black velvet corset with a straight neckline that pressed your chest up. It was part of an underwear set that connected to garters and thigh-high stockings. Your heels had been tossed somewhere around the room, and you didn’t care to find them.

On the coffee table beside the sofa was your mask, which you promptly slid back on. It was simple black and covered down to the tip of your nose. Thin silver laced the edges.

You fell onto the couch, lying across it like a luxurious woman and not an undercity whore. You had the glamor of a woman from Piltover but not the reputation.

You closed your eyes, taking this brief moment of silence. Of course, you could hear the distant sounds that came along with the job. Erotic noises came from nearly every room around, but they blended in after so many years of being there. Someone was always laughing, screaming, moaning, and weeping.

A moment later you rang a bell for the interns to come in and change your bedsheets. They did so quickly and left without saying a word. You were glad. They were a bitchy bunch trying to take your job. All because they thought they were hotter, prettier, or more skilled.

They weren’t.

Out in the hall you heard someone approaching in clicking heels. The curtains to your room slid open, and your coworker Zanira poked her head inside. Her eyes were wide, and she looked around for you somewhat frantically. “Babe, you’ve got a customer coming.”

“Okay.” Your brow furrowed at her. Usually there wasn’t an odd warning before a customer. They just walked on in. You blinked at Zanira. “Let them through?” You didn’t know how to respond in such a random interaction.

Zanira pursed her lips, obviously wanting to say something, but she just nodded and closed the curtain. Her heels clicked as she walked away, and heavy footsteps replaced hers. They were getting louder.

The curtains rustled, being pushed open for the large frame that entered.

A sly smile spread on your face as you watched her look around for you. When her dark, gray eyes met yours, you cooed, “Come back for more?”

When you heard her footsteps you assumed it was some ghastly man coming through for a quick fuck. This was a pleasant surprise. Though, whatever state she left you in would surely impact how the rest of your workday went.

Sevika pulled the curtains closed and clipped them shut. You followed every movement of hers, focusing on how her fingers flexed as she tied the curtains shut. “I heard you’re an expensive one,” she said, eyes sliding back over to meet yours.

You nodded proudly. “It takes a golden hex to get me to do anything.” It took you years to earn your reputation.

“Hm.” She looked over all your furniture, analyzing what the two of you had at your disposal. “What’ll you do for three?”

You smiled mockingly, cooing, “Fall in love with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I’m glad I only have two.”

You scoffed. You didn’t need her attitude if that’s all she was here to give. “What brings you here? My girl looked a little alarmed when she saw you coming through.”

Her brow creased and she turned fully to face your side of the room. “Am I not allowed to be here? I come all the time.”

“Yes, but you usually stay with the more… docile of our servers.”

She liked submissives. You’d heard their cries every now and then when you knew she was around. When you would speak to them and they’d mention her, they’d whisper with blush in their cheeks and a prudishness to their words.

You were no such doe.

“Come here and I'll show you why.”

You cocked one eyebrow. “I’m not moving until I see money.”

For just a moment, her strong demeanor faltered. Did she really expect you to crack like that? It was almost cute. She was disappointed. You weren’t like the easy sluts down the hall that listened to her every beck and call.

“What?” You pulled yourself up by the back of the sofa. You now sat across it like a model. It was enchanting and you knew it. “You think just because we hooked up at a bar that you don’t have to pay me?”

That was an off-the-clock fuck for fun. For actual pleasure. If she found you while you were in this room, she had to pay you. There was no premium pass just because of what happened in the back room of the Last Drop.

Though, you wanted her. Half of your brain said “so what? Whatever will happen will be worth much more than whatever she’ll pay you”. The way she stared down at you made you hot. She was there for one reason, and, hell, you wanted to make sure she got what she came for.

“You weren’t asking for payment the other night. Say, by the way you looked I doubt you even remembered what a hex looked like at the time.”

Images of what the two of you had done came flooding back (as if they ever left), and you pressed your thighs together slightly.

Still, curtly, you asked, “Is that so?” You faked a pout. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Your vulnerability is showing, Sevika. Don’t be so desperate, now.”

Her face hardened into stone, and she looked down at you with stern eyes. You would be lying if you didn’t say it excited you. This little game the two of you played was pure entertainment.

She stalked over to you and stopped when she stood above you. You stayed lying back, acting as cool as could be. She leaned down, placing one finger under your chin to tilt your face up to meet her eyes. She didn’t smile as she said, “You’re real cute when you act like you’re in charge.” She pointed across the room. “In bed. Now.”

A shallow breath fell from your lips and, yeah, just like she said, you couldn’t even remember what money was. You wanted her again—you needed her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Fuck, you’d make up the money some other way.

You stood up, slipping past her as she ran her hand down your back and watched you go. Her gaze was like glue to your backside, you could tell.

“And get rid of that fucking mask.”

You threw it to the floor.

You crawled into your bed, pushing the covers back and sitting up by the pillows. Across the room, Sevika walked over slowly, pretending to be interested in everything else in the room but you.

When she reached the bed, She stood at one of the banisters, leaning against it and crossing her arms.

“What’s wrong?” You cocked your head to the side. “Water too cold for you?”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She gestured to all of you. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Her tone had you wishing you would listen to her. She did something to you no other fuck did. Just the way she raked her eyes down your body made you shiver. But you couldn’t let her know that.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I’m not doing anything to you until you do, and if you don’t start listening to me when I tell you the first time, we’re going to have some problems.”

“Then I guess we have problems.” You stuck your bottom lip out, mocking her.

She sighed, raking her hand through her hair. She looked back down at you. “Come here.”

You crawled forward, stopping at the edge of the bed where she was and getting up on your knees to meet her eye level.

“Oh, but you’ll listen to me now?”

You smiled. “I choose what I want to do.”

“Yeah, alright.” She wrapped her hand around your throat. “I thought you learned your lesson last time. Now, I’m losing faith in you.”

She squeezed just tight enough to have you dizzy. You grasped her forearm, leveling yourself and she held you up just slightly. Excitement riddled your body and you felt yourself getting wet. You wondered how much longer until you broke.

“And, gods, you’re gonna have to stop talking,” she growled, getting close enough to your face that you could smell her.

“But—“

She pressed a metal finger to your lips. “No.”

You swallowed a boulder. Her grip on your neck was starting to have you see stars. It was heavenly. She leaned in, but flinched back when you tried to do the same. She held an ironic, menacing grin as she held you still and kissed you.

It felt like a wash of relief. As much as you were playing to cool, you wanted her so badly. Your panties were ruined and soon you would be too. The heat in your core was nearly unbearable.

Her hand squeezed just the slightest bit tighter around your throat and she had you gasping. You clawed at her forearm and she continued to kiss you, sliding her tongue beside yours. Instead of letting you win, she took one of your frantic hands and brought it down to your underwear, encouraging you.

The room was rocking and spinning around you. Sevika kept you wrapped in her kiss as your shaky hand slipped into your underwear and you dragged one finger through your folds.

A strangled moan ruptured your kiss. Sevika moved to kiss your cheek, jaw, and then your neck as your fingers began to circle your clit. The feelings together were the perfect mix, and you felt yourself relaxing into her touch. Despite this being only your second time together, she knew exactly where to drag her teeth to have you moaning into her ear.

She took her hand from your throat, caressing it down your body as her metal arm kept you firm in her grasp. You needed it. You kept a slow, torturous pace on yourself and it was starting to make you weak. You’d finish soon if you weren’t careful.

Sevika kissed down your neck and across your collar. Her arm hooked around your waist and reached for the laces of your corset. “How do I get this off of you?”

You could hardly think with your hand still massaging your clit. With your free hand, you reached behind yourself and felt around for the right tie.

She was impatient, taking her sharp metal finger and slicing through every row of laces.

“Sev!”

The corset fell off your front and she pushed it out from between the two of you. She stared down at your breast, taking one in her hand as she muttered, “I’ll get you a new one.” She rolled your nipple between her fingers, having you sigh. “Now, shut up.”

“You can’t make me—“

Her lips caught you in another kiss and she led you to lie down on your back. She moved you so the two of you were lying properly in the bed.

You could feel your orgasm coming. You rubbed your clit faster as she seemed distracted with your breast. She dragged her lips down your body and took one of your nipples in her mouth. She ran her teeth over the sensitive skin, sucking it into her mouth. The sensations of all your pleasures made you feel electrified and you could stop from moaning her name.

You were expecting a boring night. But this was anything but that. her figure over yours was enough alone to send you over the edge. Just to know that you were in her arms, being ordered around by her, being punished by her, was maddening. You felt dizzy even without her hand around your throat.

Just as you thought you were going to cum, she pulled your hand out of your panties.

“But…” Your eyes got lost in hers.

“You really don’t stop talking,” she grumbled. You watched as she leaned over and pulled one of the drawers of your nightstand open. Excitement fluttered in your stomach as you wondered what she was grabbing.

She came back with a cloth tie. She sat back between your legs, holding it up menacingly. “Maybe this’ll help you shut up.”

Before you could protest, she was wrapping it around your head and tying it tight enough that you couldn’t speak. The gag pressed into your mouth and you bit down on it with as much attitude as you could, glaring back at her.

“There,” she smiled. “So much prettier when you’re quiet.”

You spit curse at her through the cloth, only becoming more irritated as she nodded along mockingly. As if she could understand every gargled word. Her grin only widened with every nasty word.

Her coarse hands ran over your ribs, reaching around you to flip you over on your stomach. “Stay there.”

And before you could jerk your hands up to move or untie the cloth, she had your wrists pinned behind your back. They fit between the grasp of her calloused palm snugly and she held you still.

She was reaching over again, grabbing another tie to keep your wrists together. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you were more obedient.”

You lay there, completely at her disposal, as she picked up your hips and moved them where she wanted. You were on your knees, shoulders and face pressed into your sheets, and growing wetter by the second. Your clit still pulsed from your fingers, and you needed her to touch you.

Everything she did to you was different and electrifying. Hundreds of people came to visit you but none knew how to touch you like she did.

You turned your head to one side, craning your neck to see her behind you. She was pulling her shirt off and then her bra. It was an entrancing sight, watching the muscles in her shoulders and neck move to pull the clothes over her head. Her brow was tense with focus as she dropped her things off the side of the bed.

You looked at her bare figure, nearly moaning just at the sight of her. You needed to see her pants come off too, but she was done, looking back at you with a hooded stare. She was devouring you with her eyes. it sent a shiver up your spine.

She leaned over you, pressing her chest against your back as she pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. Her breath was hot against your bare neck, and the sound of her breathing so close to your ear made your core drip. She groaned as you pushed your ass up against her hips, her teeth biting down on the back of your shoulder.

Her hands ran down the sides of your torso, dragging her fingertips over your skin to make you shiver. Her hands rubbed the underside of your breasts, massaging your soft mounds.

She cupped your breast in her hands, pressing them against her palms as she pinched your nippled between her fingers. A sigh fell from you as you continued to grind your hips back against hers.

One hand moved down your front, toying with the edge of your panties as she bullied your nipple until it was sure to bruise.

“You don’t need these, do you?” She asked.

Before you could even try to respond, she was ripping through the fabric and pulling it off you. She discarded the tatters before slipping her hand back down and diving into your sensitive folds.

“Mm,” she hummed, collecting your slick on her fingers. “So fucking wet, and I was starting to worry you didn’t like me.”

The tips of her fingers began to push into your entrance, causing you to relax into the mattress as a moan slipped past your clenched teeth. Her two fingers curled inside of you, her palm rubbing your clit as she set a slow and burning pace.

The cool metal of her arm slid around your hip, guiding you to ride her fingers. She forced you to comply with her slow pace though you wanted to rest your finish so badly. With every curl of her fingers, she pressed hard against your most sensitive spot. Your soft walls tensed around her hand, dripping down her knuckles as she left a hickey on your upper back, right where your muscle met your neck.

It was hot and painfully slow how you rutted against her hand. A slow moan slipped from you as she tugged at your sore nipple once more. She rolled it in her fingertips, massaging your soft tissue as she rubbed your clot against the bone of her palm.

“You’re so fucking nasty, baby,” she groaned. “Can’t believe I’m fucking a whore like you.”

A blush spread across your face as you whined, grinding your hips faster to try and get her to speed up. You cried her name with a demand to get her to do what you wanted, but it only came out as a string of muffled grumbles.

“What was that?” Her voice was laced with teasing pleasure. It was dripping with amusement. She pulled her fingers out a bit just to shove them back in harshly, having you suck in a hard breath. “You’ve got something in your mouth, babe. I can’t understand you.” She said it so plainly it was like you didn’t already know. Like you were just that fucking stupid.

She seemed to be taking pity on you, ravishing in the way you squirmed when she went faster. Her assault was unwavering as the pleasure spread throughout your body.

Heat shot to your head as you felt your orgasm coming. Your body was frantic, trying to grind and ride her hand just the way you needed to finish. Stray curses and moan were muted by the gag. The cloth was now soaked with your spit and drying out your tongue.

“What’s that?” She taunted, “You’re close, aren’t you?” Her gravelly voice right by your ear. You nodded quickly, face rubbing against the mattress as your eyes snapped open to look at her. The hair was falling out of her ponytail and curling over her forehead as she hovered behind you, close to your neck.

The constant rubbing of her fingers inside of you had you hardly hearing her. The room was filled with your strangled, muffled moans as all you could focus on was chasing your finish.

As quickly as you felt the orgasm coming, she pulled her fingers out of your soaked cunt. The sudden loss of sensation had you twisting under her, hard and angered words spat through the gag as you flared back at her.

“Hey—hey!” She gripped you by the hair on the back of your neck, tugging your face up to look her in her eyes. “Don’t be suck a fucking brat. You’ll get what you want, be patient.”

Your hair slipped through her fingers as she dropped your head back down onto the mattress. Your face smushed into the sheet as your lower half went cold. She moved off of you, once again reaching into your nightstand to find something else.

Your eyes widened as she pulled out a strap that was bigger than one that had ever been inside of you. That one was only for you to use on other people. You didn’t think it could fit in you.

Her name was butchered through the gag as you tried to get her attention. She was too busy pulling the harness over her hips to care about your worries.

Her pants had already been dropped to the floor, and you fought your hardest to break your wrists from the tie she’s put them in. You wanted to feel the strong hacks of her thighs. Her plain black underwear was low on her hips, revealing how far her deep purple scars went down her body.

“Sev…”

Her eyes flicked up to you. Her face was shadowed with lust. Even if you could tell her that would be too much, she wouldn’t listen. You could still see your juices on her two fingers as she walked back over to the bed, crawling behind you.

“I know,” she assured, rubbing your ass and hip. “You’ll be okay, baby. I know you can take it. You talk a lot of shit, but I see right through you. You like it when I treat you like this.”

Your fingers clenched as you tried to pull your wrists free. She only took it as an opportunity to reach down and kiss your knuckles gently. As if she was trying to be chivalrous and sweet.

A final snarky remark was spat into the gag, and this one was louder than the last. A sharp sting spread across your ass as she spanked you. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as she smacked you again, the pain tingling under your skin. It lingered as she adjusted behind you and began to rub her cock through your soaked folds.

The cold silicone made you shiver and whine into the mattress. She eased you into the feeling, but soon enough she was pressing the tip against your entrance. So covered in your slick, the tip pushed into your puffy pussy with more ease than you expected, but soon the stretch became painful.

A sharp cry broke through the gag as she continued to abuse your cunt. Every time you thought all of it was in you, she pushed just one inch more. Finally, the base of her cocker your entrance and you whimpered at the fullness. There was no more you could’ve fit if she tried. Your walls clenched around her and you pushed your hips into her to convince her to move.

Perhaps her teasing was over because she complied, pulling out and rocking back into you. She found a rhythm that you could keep up with, your thighs shaking and tensing as she thrust you again and again.

The tie around your wrists was beginning to strain the muscle in your shoulders and wrists. Your head pressed to the side made your neck crane and cramp as you were pushed harder into your bed. So fucked out, the pain was hardly noticed compared to the coursing, heated pleasure thy she sent through your core, all the way into your lower belly.

You would’ve stayed there forever. The bed creaked with every thrust of her hips, hitting against the wall as she muttered a mix of cruel and sweet saying to you to coax you along.

At some moment, she moved behind you slightly and slowed her pace. Your worries grew and you thought she was denying you your finish again, but she soon began her cruel humping again.

“Here, sweetheart,” she cooed, leaning down so you could see her. In her hand were her two hexes. “Take it.”

You glared up at her, wrists writhing in their tie.

“Come on,” she urged, holding her hand closer to your face so you could really see the money she was going to give you. “You can’t have it unless you take it from me.”

She jerked her hips into you harder, making the strap shove further into your cunt. She had you groaning, face smushed further into your pillow.

Through the bag came a muffled “fuck you”, and she frowned at you pitifully. She shrugged, moving out of your gaze and dropping the coins somewhere on her clothes.

She thrust roughly into you again. “I think you should just give up on this bratty act. I like you a lot more when you’re broken and fucked out underneath me.”

Sure, she was talking to you, but you weren’t listening. One of her hands had snaked down to your front and was rubbing tight circles around your clit. Together, her stimulation and rutting was quickly driving you to your finish.

If you could talk, you would beg. The pleasure was too overwhelming for you to come up with any bite. You needed to cum. You needed her to take you there.

Your peak was approaching fast. and she could tell from the way your hips pushed back into her more sloppily than before. It was a frantic attempt to finish before she could stop you.

“Come on, baby girl, you can cum.”

That was all you needed, her deep voice pushing you over the she as you keened, going limp into the bed as your orgasm shot through you. It came in heated waves that had you crying for her.

She was kind and slowed with your finish. The ribbed sides of the dildo beginning to burn as she slowly pushed in once more time. Then, she pulled out, rubbing the muscle in your shoulder as she sighed.

Her hand slipped up to undo the gag at the back of your head. Your limp body had her pulling the cloth out from under the other side of your head as you spat it out of your mouth.

A thick breath heaved from your lungs as you licked your dry lips. “Give me a break.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

Your nose wrinkled. With the nastiest, most disrespectful tone you could, you spat out a “please”.

She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Okay, baby, I’ll give you a break while I untie you.”

“What if I run?” You hissed. She loosened the tie around your wrists, and you immediately pulled your hands free, rolling your wrists as you pushed yourself up onto shaky arms.

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” she said, helping you roll over onto your back.

You stared up at her, the hair sticking to her forehead, her chest rising with her heavy breaths, and the imprint of a wet spot on her underwear. The sheen on her broad shoulders and biceps was entrancing as you were lost in the sight of her as she leaned down to kiss you softly.

Her hot tongue slipped against yours as you whined against her lips, cradling her face in your hands. She rubbed her palms down your hips, adjusting your legs and spreading your thighs as she brushed the sticky strap against your core again.

A weak sigh slid between your mouths as you braced yourself to take her again. You were sore, but as the dildo rubbed against your clit, you were alight with arousal once more.

She frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m not done ruining you, sweetheart. I want to see you cry on my cock.”

She sunk deep back into you, having you a heaving mess under her. “Now,” she began. “Do you think you can stay quiet without this?” She held up the gag, looking down at you with an expectant gaze.

You let out a heavy breath. As it fell out of you, you realized she’d won. You were too tired and fucked out to bite back. All you wanted now was for her to take care of you. You’d do anything to keep her here with you.

“Good girl.” She rubbed her thumb across your cheek. “See? You can behave.”

She pulled out just enough to ram back in. Your mind was lost in the heat of her. You were ready to beg if need be. You just couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of her fucking into you.

Your hands, still sore from the tie, pressed against her collar and chest. Her skin was softer than expected, and slick with her sweat. You reached between your bodies and cupped her soft breast, massaging it gently. She moaned into your skin, rutting into you so the strap stimulated her clit just as much as she pleasured you.

You were so full, her cock so thick as she rubbed the ribbed sides against your abused walls. You wrapped your legs around her, pulling her closer as you ran your hands through her hair.

Her lips met yours in another heated, hungry kiss. She was nearly desperate, spit mixing with yours as she thrust harder and you whined against her mouth. Her teeth nipped at your bottom lip. She rested on one elbow, hand threading through your hair as her metal fingers gripped your thigh to keep you tight against her.

She wasn’t focused on your pleasure, humping against you just so she could feel the strap rub against her clit and get her off. She used you as a fucktoy to reach her climax, being ceaseless in her own pace.

The idea of it made you feel close regardless. The fact that you were her’s and she used you however she wanted had warmth spreading through your core and sparking to your clit.

Your eyes began to sting as tears built at the edges. It was a flood of sensations that had you moaning and crying out as she kissed you again.

“You’re okay, sweet girl. You look so beautiful right now.”

She bit down on your neck so hard you were worried she’d draw blood. Your makeup was running down your face as tears collected in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. You tugged at her hair, having her moan against your skin.

You met her hips, trying to persuade her rhythm to please you, but she only pushed your hips down harder. “Stay still, baby, I’m close,” she groaned. Her incessant thrust only hurt, smacking against your cervix as she chased her high.

Another wave of arousal rolled through your body as her chest pressed against yours, her nipples pressed into your skin and breasts. It didn’t take much longer before she became a mess above you, moaning loudly in your ear as she jumped her cock into you quickly to satisfy her finish.

Stray whispers of praise fell from her lips as she continued to thrust into you, wanting to see you cum and you were close. Shivers shot down your spine as she dragged her lips across your jaw, and your orgasm came on suddenly, having you shake and your vision go white. You screamed, nails digging into her shoulder as your pleasure overtook you.

She hushed you, hand rubbing your hip to coax you down from your high. Heavy breath heaved through your chest as you lay there, hot and thoroughly fucked as she helped you come back to her. Your eyes cracked back open, finding her looking down at you gently with a slight crease in her brow.

“You there, doll?”

You smiled, nodding as she rubbed her thumb across your bottom lip. Sharp exhales still shot through you as you relaxed against the bed and in her arms.

She pulled out slowly, easing out as you but your lip from the sensation. You watched as she took the harness off. She came back with a cloth and wiped the insides of your thighs.

“Why can’t you be this nice all the time,” you jested, pushing her shoulder gently with one foot.

She scoffed, laughing lightly. “I could say the same thing to you.”

You made an annoyed sound in your throat, brushing her off as she got back up. The mattress shifted with her weight and you tried your best to sit up and lean back against your pillows. Your wrists ached as you pushed yourself up, and the tendons in your thighs were sore as you closed your legs.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” you muttered. “How am I supposed to do my job now?”

She shrugged, pulling her pants back on. “That’s not my problem.”

You crossed your arms. “Food is expensive.” You didn’t make enough money that day to buy dinner for yourself yet, and you were starting to get hungry. She tired you out in every sense. Hell, you really needed some water too.

“Okay,” she nodded. “How about I make it up to you? I’ve got a poker game tomorrow night and one of my guys just bailed. There’s an empty spot at the table if you want it.”

Your brow furrowed. Why the hell did she want you there?

“You can eat as much as you want,” she offered.

Your head tilted to the side. Every pro and con ran through your mind and a million questions shot through you, but one came to the surface: “Why me?”

“Because I want someone easy to beat,” she teased, pulling her shirt over her head. She saw your glare and shook her head. “Really, there’s just no one else, and the game won’t be as good with less people. You seem like you could hold your own against the guys I hang out with—much better than the girls down the hall.”

Surely, she had some ultimotives. She probably just wanted to get in your pants again but was trying to be nice enough so you would let her. A night at her poker table would probably be a good time. You gambled with some of the other workers when business was slow and you thought you were pretty good. Besides, being seen with her so publicly would probably keep you safer when walking down the street.

“What time should I be there?”

She was fully dressed, standing at the edge of the bed. If she was happy with you agreeing, she didn’t show it. “About nine.”

“Okay. Fine.”

She nodded, leaning over the bed. “Okay, I have to go now.” She motioned for you to come forward and kissed you slowly when you complied.

She hummed against your lips. “Walk me out?”

“Funny.”

She laughed, leaning back and muttering a goodbye as she walked out. You said it back quietly, face slightly contorted in confusion as you tried to figure her out.

After she was gone, you laid there for a while in silence. Your sweat stuck to your skin as you ran your hands over your hair to tame it in the back. You wiped the makeup that was smudged under your eye.

A few minutes later, Zanria poked her head back into your room. You assumed she was just being nosy, but you soon saw she was carrying a tray of something.

“What?” You asked, feeling a bit too tired to be nice.

“She paid for this,” Zanria said, walking up to you in the bed. You sat up more to see the platter full of grapes, cheese, chocolate, and other small foods. There was a small pitcher of water, too.

Of course she did. She seemed to care about you a lot more than she was supposed to, and you weren’t complaining.

You only hoped it wouldn’t get too deep

#arcane #arcane league of legends #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #fluff #sevika fanfic

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allisluv · 11 months ago

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COMING CLEAN

Chapter Five — the list

pairing: finnick odair x fem!oc

content warnings: president snow is a warning in himself, tooth rotting fluff mostly, flirty comments, traumas, implied sex work, dissociation and i think that’s it <3

word count: 3.1k

previous part — next part

Dahlia had never managed to escape what had happened during the 67th Hunger Games for very long. Everywhere she turned, there were reminders. A cold snap in the weather. Sickles in district nine. She grew to associate the colour red with violence and blonde thirteen-year-olds with Alara. Carbon copies of the young girl she was meant to protect. Carbon copies of the young girl she couldn't save.

Even in her sleep, she could not separate herself from the horrors in the arena. Her dreams were plagued with disturbing memories. Beckett's lifeless body lying limply in her arms. The way the colour drained from Mallory's face as Dahlia slit her throat. The light leaving Xavier's eyes. How Apollo had used Eleanora's body to light a fire in the mountains. Alara crying out for her mother.

Dahlia woke with a start, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Tears gathered on her waterline and she blinked them away quickly. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of her neck and into her damp pyjama shirt.

Finnick was snoring quietly, his chest rising and falling in steady motions. He must have been a deep sleeper to keep dozing through her tossing and turning. The alarm clock on his locker flashed with a hologram of the time.

It had only just gone 10am which gave her plenty of time to relax before tonight's gala.

She pulled back the duvet covers and quietly crept her way towards her suitcase. It was still open from last night, so she didn't have to worry about the zipping noise waking him up. She pulled a yarn of wool and two knitting needles from her suitcase before tip-toeing her way onto the balcony.

It wasn't anything special: two white plastic chairs and a matching round table. There was a row of potted plants through the bars and a view of the bustling Capitol streets. Not all that different from her own hotel room.

She settled in the shade of the balcony and got to work almost straight away. She was three-quarters of the way through knitting a black sweater for her sister; Ivy had outgrown at least half of her wardrobe in the last month alone.

Having something to do took her mind off the particularly harrowing flashbacks from last night.

Beneath her, cars honked their horns at other drivers on the road and she could faintly hear a conversation from the penthouse suite above her. It was rare to have a peaceful morning in the Capitol and it certainly made her trip that much easier.

Finnick stumbled onto the balcony about an hour later. He squinted in the morning sunlight and wiped the traces of sleep from his eyes. "Morning," he sat opposite her and set two full mugs of coffee on the table. "Have you been up for long?"

Dahlia was too absorbed in her knitting to offer anything more than a shrug. Her eyes were trained on the stitches as she threaded the needles through the wool. Eventually, her fingers stilled and she discarded her completed knitting to one side. She peered into the cup he had nudged in her direction and was surprised to see that he had committed her coffee order to memory.

"Thank you," she cupped her hands around the mug, craving the warmth. Finnick shot her a soft smile and sipped his iced coffee. Dahlia tentatively lifted the mug to her lips and gulped it down, the liquid scalding her throat. "Did I wake you up? Sometimes I forgot how loud the knitting needles can be."

Finnick let out a breezy laugh and shook his head. "I'd probably sleep through an earthquake so you haven't got anything to worry about," he ran his hands through his strands of bronze hair and attempted to untangle the knots with his fingers.

"How long have you got until your first appointment this morning?" he asked gently, taking care to keep the question as casual as he could. He didn't want to make a big deal out of it. "Have you got enough time for me to show off my magnificent breakfast skills? I can assure you that it'll be worth it," he grinned, cockiness seeping from every word.

Dahlia bit back a smile and ducked her head until she had regained her composure. "That depends on whether or not pancakes are on the agenda," she quipped, her head tilted at an angle. "I have very high standards, you know," she teased with raised brows.

Finnick ran his tongue over his teeth and jumped to his feet, digging his hands into the deep pockets of his pyjama pants. "Oh, I'm sure you do honey." He yanked open the balcony door and the curtains fluttered in the wind.

She gathered her patchwork into her arms and slipped into their hotel room, sliding across the wooden floorboards in her white socks. She placed the almost-finished sweater vest on her bedside locker and dug the knitting needles into the ball of wool for safekeeping.

Finnick was scouring through a cupboard for a frying pan as she made her way towards the kitchenette and opened the fridge.

She sifted through packets of waffles and bottles of pink lemonade in search of the butter, which was the only thing she couldn't pinpoint a location on.

Letting out a small noise of triumph, she pushed herself onto her tippy-toes and pulled the butter from its hiding space. To his credit, Finnick had pulled the rest of the ingredients out of the cupboards while she was preoccupied.

She used her hip to push him aside and he laughed, folding his arms across his chest like a child that had been kicked out of the kitchen while the adults were talking.

"I thought I was meant to be making you breakfast," he protested, a slight whine in his voice as he leaned against the oven.

A smart remark died on her tongue when someone knocked on the door. She fired a tea towel at his chest and he caught it without even blinking. "If you give me food poisoning, I'll kill you," she warned.

Dahlia stepped away from the oven to see who was hammering their fists against the door at this time in the morning. Her gaze softened when she saw a young Avox on the other side of the door. The boy held an envelope in his hands and he couldn't be any older than twelve.

"Hi there," she sunk to her knees and clasped her hands together in her lap. Dahlia didnt like towering over him - it may come off as intimidating and she didnt want him to be frightened of her. "Is this for me?" she whispered, pointing at the letter clutched in his fist. He nodded nervously and placed it into her outstretched palm. "Thank you." He picked up his feet and scurried off down the hallway.

Dahlia hauled herself to her feet and closed the door, wandering back into the kitchen with the letter in her hand. Finnick cracked an egg against the side of a mixing bowl as she sat on the countertop next to him.

Dahlia's eyes briefly scanned the neat handwriting on the front of the envelope and she let a laugh slip past her lips. She ripped it open and read through the letter as Finnick flipped the pancakes in the air.

Dear Dahlia,

Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were going out with Finnick O'Dair? I want to know every little detail. Since when? What's he like? Is he really as handsome as everyone says? Does he treat you like you hung the moon and stars? He better. You deserve someone who treats you like there's nowhere else they'd rather be than with you, Lia. I can't wait till you get home, so please write me back as soon as you get this

Did you know otters sleep holding hands so that they don't drift away from each other? I bet you didn't know that, did you? Tell Finnick. Tell him. I bet he won't know that either! And tell him that there are six thousand different types of coral. I think he'll like that one because of his district.

I wish you were here. I miss you terribly. River won't let me feed Thumper ice cream and he's really not a good cook. I think I might die of starvation by the time you get home. Also, Wyatt is sad again and I don't know how to cheer him up. River is trying his best but he keeps giving out and shouting at him for not moving from the couch. I'm trying to look after him because I might not know how to make him feel better, but at least I don't scream at him.

You're the only one who knows how to make him do things. He doesn't eat a lot, even when I add smiley faces to his food, which usually works for me. Anyway, please tell me how you do it and maybe it'll work.

I hope you are doing okay. Tell Finnick that I said hello. Everything is okay so please try not to worry. Thumper is alive and thriving. You were right, he does like lettuce. Anyway, write back and let me know how you're getting on.

Lots of love,

Juniper xx

"Pancakes are ready," Finnick announced, transferring them onto linen napkins marked with the Capitol's seal. He grabbed the sugar and lemon from the cupboard above his head and joined Dahlia at the kitchen table.

She wasted no time in rolling up the pancake and ripping into it with her teeth. "June wants me to tell you that there's six thousand different types of sea coral," she covered her mouth with her hand as she spoke. An amused smile played on his lips. "She wants me to find out if you knew that or not."

Finnicks warm laughter filled the room and it made her heart buzz with that pleasant feeling again. "I didn't know that," he admitted, sprinkling sugar over his pancakes. "Is she a fan of the water then?"

"Ironically, she's petrified of the water. I've tried to teach her to swim but she wasn't having a bar of it. No, she just likes memorizing facts and then repeating them in her head," Dahlia explained.

He was about to answer when someone rapidly knocked their knuckles against the door. His spine straightened out and he struggled to his feet, but she was closer and beat him to it. A glance at the clock told her that it had just gone noon which meant that it was probably one of their prep teams ready to poke and prod them into perfection.

She unbolted the door, expecting to see Bloom or Caspian standing on the other side, but was met with an unpleasant surprise. Dahlia's blood ran cold.

President Snow's right-hand man, Everett Montgomery, was on their doorstep. Two armed peacekeepers accompanied him.

"Miss Holloway. Is Mr O'Dair around?" Everett grunted. Finnick ran to the door at the sound of his name and Dahlia absentmindedly put herself between him and Everett. "I'm to escort you both to President Snow's mansion. He would like a word."

Dahlia stood her ground and dug her heels into the floorboards as Everett tried to push his way into their hotel room. "I'm afraid you will have to wait ten minutes while we get ready." Everett opened his mouth to protest but she was quick to cut him off. "I wasn't asking for permission."

By the look on Everett's face, it was evident that he had never been told no before. She left no room for arguing and with his mouth hanging open in shock, Dahlia slammed the door in his face and locked it for good measure.

"You have five minutes, Miss Holloway!"

The room was swaying as Dahlia stepped away from the door. She moved over to the sofa and pulled herself together. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom to get changed? I won't be long," she sat on the sofa and pulled her case apart in her haste to find a change of clothes.

"Yeah, go ahead," Finnick yanked a few items of his own from the chest of drawers. "There's no rush. Everett can't exactly leave without us, anyway."

Dahlia disappeared into the bathroom and winced when she saw her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. The lace of her pyjama shirt was barely concealing the hickeys along her collarbones. Her hair was disastrous and she had a feeling it would take a while to untangle all of the knots. She hadn't done a good job of cleaning off her makeup last night; she could still see streaks of foundation along her face.

She stepped out of her pyjamas and discarded them on the bathroom floor. Slipping a black shirt over her head and pulling a pair of ripped jeans over her wide hips, she ran her brush through her long locks of caramel hair. She never bothered with makeup -- she had enough of that during galas -- and once the traces of last night's mess were gone, she pulled on a pair of shoes and peeked her head out of the door, eyes firmly squeezed shut. "Are you decent?"

"Don't act as if you wouldn't love to see me without my clothes on, honey."

"Finnick!"

"Calm down, I'm only pulling your leg, of course, I'm decent," he laughed and laced up his trainers. He turned to her as she bundled her pyjamas into her suitcase. "You ready honey?"

She glared at him but there was no heat behind the look. Maybe the nickname was starting to grow on her more than she cared to admit.

Everett hammered his fists against the door until they answered. He marched them into the elevator and the peacekeepers were practically walking on the back of their heels. If she had to guess, they were under strict instructions to make sure neither of them made a run for it.

The armed peacekeepers cleared a path through the mass of reporters gathered outside the hotel entrance. Everett ushered them into the back of a limousine with tinted windows and jumped into the passenger seat. The driver stepped on the gas pedal, weaving in and out of the crowds as photographers continued trying to snap a shot of them.

The pancakes had turned sour in Dahlia's stomach and she was praying they wouldn't make a reappearance. She smoothed her hands along the material of her trousers, fingers gliding over her kneecaps. It was soothing and she managed to keep her breakfast down the entire car ride.

Everett led them into President Snow's mansion and guided them down secret hallways that were guarded by armed peacekeepers in crisp white uniforms.

While Dahlia had been in the President's mansion for many a gala, she had only been invited into his private quarters twice before; the first when she was propositioned on being sold to rich Capitol men and women and the second after her parents were murdered and she had exchanged her bodily autonomy for her sibling's freedom.

Everett slowed to a stop in one of the corridors and gestured to two plush velvet armchairs and an array of magazines. "Wait here. I'll call you when the President is ready," he opened the heavy double doors to Snow's study and let it slam closed while they took their seats.

Adrenaline shot through Dahlia's body like a drug. Not knowing why they had been called in for a meeting was killing her. She was too busy wrecking her brain for what they could have possibly done wrong to notice that her cuticles were starting to bleed.

Finnick's leg was bouncing up and down as he reached across and gently took her hand in his own. "Stop that," he rubbed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, trying to provide a slither of comfort in the darkly lit hallway. She couldn't get the words to leave her mouth so she squeezed his hand to convey her thanks.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as they sat in the corridor. It felt like waiting on death row because whatever Snow wanted, it couldn't be good.

After what felt like a lifetime, Everett beckoned them inside.

Finnick gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he led the way into the study. President Snow sat behind an oak desk, fussing over a white rose in his lapel. He didn't look up until the two of them were settled in the chairs opposite him. "I've always favoured the white roses. They bring out my eyes, don't you think?"

Dahlia had a habit of laughing at inconvenient times and she bit down on her tongue to stop that from happening. It was probably a rhetorical question, anyway. "You wanted to see us, President Snow?"

"Yes, Miss Holloway, I did," Snow left the rose alone and clasped his hands in front of him. "I want to commend you both on your acting, for starters."

"Who said we were acting?" she countered.

He shot her a tight-lipped smile. "Let's cut to the chase, my dear. I'm sure you're aware that there's been an increase in demand for your services. I wanted to personally make sure you both understand that our agreement has not changed. Here is a list of clients that you need to see before you are free to go home."

He slid two pieces of paper across the table. Finnick couldn't help but notice that Dahlia's list was significantly longer than his.

Dahlia wondered how mad the president would be if she ripped up his goddamn list. "There are at least forty names here."

"Seventy-five. There's more names on the back," Snow corrected matter-of-factly. "I must remind you that your clients are to be treated with the utmost respect. That goes for you as well, Finnick. We wouldn't want a tragic accident to occur, now would we?"

Dahlia dug her nails into the palms of her hand until blood dripped down her wrists. Her jaw clenched and she refused to break eye contact with him.

Fire burned through her veins, setting her nerve-endings alight and it was at that moment that she knew Snow was going to regret ever laying eyes on her.

She was going to burn the Capitol down from the inside out.

#the hunger games #grace talks🐚🌷#thg #headcanons #finnick odair #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair smut #sam claflin #dahlia holloway #coming clean wp

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darkwolf76 · 2 months ago

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day, roots, bling, and favorite from the character design ask game for Deidre? I need to know more about her style!

Sorry this took me a while! It really is the ADHD in me sometimes that dictates when I get to asks. I start thinking about my answer, get distracted, and boom.

day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

Deidre wears court appropriate fashions for a girl of her standing when a child and teen, as a lady-in-waiting to the princess. I don't have super specific trends in mind for her, but generally, she wears more fancier, more tailored clothes while at court, and if she's back in the Riverlands or away from court, she wears simpler, sometimes looser gowns. She favors a lot of hand embroidery with weirwood leaves on her dresses while away from the captial. She also doesn't like shoes or stockings and would be barefoot all the time if she could get away with it.

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

I didn't base her clothing on any historical or technical trends. I don't get super detailed about clothing in my stories with my writing style. I'd say my biggest inspiration for her looks were her face claims, especially her older one, Anabel Scholey. The outfits she wears for her role in Medici I imagine are more like what Deidre wears at court, while the simpler looks in her role in Britannia are the kind of outfits she wears while at home in the Riverlands. The more Celtic/witchy looks from Britannia are for when Deidre enters her Witch Queen at Harrenhal era, later in the Dance of the Dragons.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

Deidre has plenty of jewelry, like any noble lady of her standing. Earrings, rings, dress belts, bracelets, necklaces, she wears all these types of articles at various times, but more so when she is at court in King's Landing. For her simpler state of dress while at home in the Riverlands, she doesn't wear as many pieces, and they tend to be simpler and nature inspired, particularly evocative of weirwoods and the Gods Eye.

Her jewelery of note, at least so far, is her pair of ghost orchid rings. It's a set of two very simple rings, a silver and a gold band, each set with a singular glass stone with ghost orchid blossoms preserved inside. A rare swamp flower that only grows in the neck, it was her mother Elera Reed's favorite. Lyonel had some brought down to Harrenhal as a wedding gift, and when he found out she was having twins, had some of the blossoms preserved into glass beads that he set into two rings for his wife. After she died in childbirth, the two rings went to her daughters, Dyana and Deidre, and after Dyana's death, her ring went to Deidre as well. Deidre always wears those rings as a reminder of her sister and mother. After certain events, she gives her gold band of the set to Criston Cole, which he wears on a chain around his neck secretly for the rest of his life. She eventually gives her silver band of the set, the one that originally belonged to her sister Dyana, to her daughter Dyana Rivers.

arms (favorite): Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

Deidre is not a warrior herself, but she does carry a knife with her from the time she is a young girl. It was gifted to her by her base born aunt, Alys Rivers, right after her twin sister died. A silver blade with a bronze colored hilt, evocative of the colors of a weirwood, it is inscribed with first men runes and used by Deidre for blood letting whenever she makes a small sacrifice to pray to the Old Gods, usually just a cut on her finger, sometimes more.

#oc: deidre strong #ask answered #thanks for asking!

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astra-galaxie · 2 months ago

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🌺🍕🥊❤️🍀🧠💎 for elijah young, our favorite bunny man :)

Another fan-fave OC of mine! He’s the OC I created to be Amy and Duncan’s father and Miriam’s ex-husband. Let’s see what answers I have to your request, Issy!

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Yup! Vukašin “Vuk” Zima-Valt is Elijah’s love interest and also Marina’s uncle in my series! You’ll be seeing the two again once we return to the present!

🍕 - What is their favourite food?

Ice cream. Elijah enjoys eating and drinking anything cold, but ice cream has always been his favourite. It's also a treat he and Amy have a shared love for, so that’s an added bonus! Duncan isn’t as big of an ice cream fan as his father and sister, but the three have plenty of treasured memories together involving the icy treat.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Love: Prepare for Christmas! Christmas is Elijah’s favourite holiday, and he loves getting ready for it. From trimming the trees to decorating cookies, Elijah is in his element when the holiday rolls around! If he could have a Christmas tree up all year round, he would! (Not that there is anyone to stop him, so he may leave the tree up instead of packing it away this year…)

Hate: Going to parties. Elijah has been an introvert his whole life, and while he will attend parties, he prefers to stay for as long as minimally required and leave the first chance he gets! It's not that he hates people; it's just that the excitement can become too much for him, so he tries to avoid overstimulation. But if it's a small party with close family and friends, Elijah will always enjoy himself and can stay for hours with the right company.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

Holding his children for the first time. Elijah loves being a father, and when he held each of his children for the first time, his heart filled with so much love and pride that it felt like it could burst. And no matter how many times he holds one of his children or how big they get, he will never forget the tiny newborns they once were and the innocent wonder in their eyes as they explored the world for the first time.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

The fact that I wanted Amy to have a relative who showed her love and whom she could rely on. After Duncan was arrested, we know she and Miriam struggled even more to have a good relationship (and personally, I’ve never liked Miriam), so I wanted to create my version of her other parent so Amy would have someone in her corner when times get tough. While Elijah and Amy have had their issues in the past, they have worked not to let them define their present and become a family again.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

His design. It’s simple but cool, and I’ve always been a fan of the scar I gave him over his eye! I have a thing for giving important OCs unique eyes, whether it is through their colour or other things… I also like how, because of the necklace he wears (a mixture of pink, blue, and purple beads), he was made bisexual!

(Thank you, Ticcory, for making the connection and helping make the idea canon!)

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

I don’t think I will. For one, he’s very important to Amy and many other characters, and while I do enjoy writing angst, I would hate to take Elijah from them. At least at this point in my series planning, he will survive! But who knows who I’ll end up killing off down the road? (Not me sometimes!)

Astra Fact: I recently decided to make Elijah’s birthday December 25th, so I guess this post is a Christmas gift to you guys and a birthday present to him!🎄🎁❄

And that’s a wrap! (Get it? Wrap? Wrapping presents? Ha! I’m hilarious… Not!😆)

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!❄❤✨

#criminal case #criminal case pacific bay #elijah young #amy young #headcanons #ask

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arcade-universe · 7 months ago

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This is the arcade universe. A nice little place for those side characters in Stardust Arcade to have their own little light. Characters that only play a small role, or characters who are not close enough to Stardust arcade to get mentioned. Are available to be asked questions here. As I've done before, I'll have a small list below of who you can interact with.

So have fun asking characters.

Now for the other note. I'm going to keep Amph Universe as my main place for any crossovers to happen. But. I am allowing in Arcade Universe variants/OC's to do crossovers in here. What this basically means. Is if you have a character created within the arcade universe. You can cross over with them here. This is mostly to keep the cannon continuity. As I see nothing wrong with people's OCs or Arcade variants wandering around in the canon timeline. The only exception is directly interacting with Stardust Arcade. Of which I will suggest moving that over to Amph universe. Here is a little instruction guide on how to do crossovers.

Anyways. Onto the basic, transfer sequence or rules for Arcade variants and OCs.

I do not care how your OC or Arcade variant looks. Do whatever.

Animatronics must be given some sort of physical age. Or at least labeled as old or new AI.

Animatronics can't yet be bio-organic. They can be bio-mechanical, mechanical, or nano-organic. Bio-organic is only for specific magic's.

Each animatronic should have a soul. The only exception is very very new AI animatronics.

Soul characters are allowed.

Souls can take any shape you want. Even animatronics. No borders.

Souls can be semi-physical. Souls also do not need to be connected to an animatronic.

Here is a document for some rules behind the souls and also magic.

Arcade has a very specific family system. Please read this document for families.

This is a document talking about how ages work.

This is a document about the current timeline of arcade. (This is based off of stardust's perspective though.)

This is a document explaining what new AI and old AI are, And also explains how humans and companies handle it.

Establishments can be owned by anyone.

Establishments are a good way to transfer universes. Increasing the distance between establishments also helps this.

Magic can either be well known or not well-known. Please take note of this for every you region you create.

A good way to transfer a Lord is to either make them the oldest animatronic, or make them the most magically powerful animatronic.

Magic can be whatever you want. It will be compared to my magic system. But you do not have to follow it.

Magic can be used unwillingly, or without knowledge. Since it is the soul that controls magic.

It is suggested that you don't go past three unique magical traits. While a simple magical trait can be plenty vague and powerful. A person that can control every element is not allowed.

Now for the grand list of characters you can talk to. (Lots of secrets too)

Vapor

Dim

Cade

Comet

Morning

Shadow

Bright

Nessi

Sundown

Sköll

Leiðr

Cody

Tangle

Carney

Nightmare fredbear

Kaus

Bead

Crater

Cygnus

Antares

Rigel

Algol

Neptune

Halimede

Neso

Thalassa

Sao

Hum

Zip

Xolo

Pastel

Gladiator

Wizard

Witch

Butler

Werewolf

Blue Moon

Crimple

Mist

Derek

Misty

Philip

Gregory

Cassie

Ryan

And plenty more im forgetting.

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eywaseclipse · 8 months ago

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Get to know my Original Characters

Name: Tani te Ol'ul Peyral'ite

My Omatikaya OC 🌱🌲🦋

Daughter of the mighty hunter Peyral and

Taktu te Omi

Clan: Omatikaya

Age: 20's

Height: 8'8" she's one of the tallest female na vi for her age group

Ikran: She tamed a beautiful indigo almost black female Ikran with scatters of bright bioluminescent spots named Oare which means Moon in Na'vi

(pronounced Oh-R-Ay with rolled "r')

Special Skills: Archery, Ikran flying, weaving and craftsmanship, spear fishing, and hand to hand combat thanks to Jake Sully's informative combat lessons

Her Favorite Food: minced hexapede meat with rice and vegetables stuffed in a smoked hand wrapped banana leaf, Dawn Fruit for its sour tangy flavor, bladder polyps for the saltiness, thistle bud for snacking

Tani was a young child when the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains took place so she stayed back with her grandmother and other children while the elders looked after them. She had an older sister named Zetey the same age as Neytiri who was killed in battle and regularly talks to her at the spirit tree

Experiencing war at such a young age significantly changed her and the way she acts, many elders in the clan commend her for her stoic attitude and maturity.

She leads a very hectic lifestyle serving as one of the high ranking warriors in the clan under Jake's leadership alongside her parents

She secretly wishes for a quiet life and large family dabbling into healing work and weaving goods for the clan

She has an even temper and is not usually tempted to lash out, she's very calculated and cunning

Every hunting festival she makes new garments usually showcasing a significant event that occurred before the big hunt

She has a large collection of beads and rocks she's received from both Tuk and Loak she keeps in a special bowl by her bedside at all times

After joining union with Jake she collected a rock from the river where they had a heart to heart and strung it onto her songcord

She has a soft spot for Loak being the younger sibling herself and often defends him and tries to get Jake to soften his attitude

She ends up having 2 more babies with Jake, a boy, and another girl

She and Ronal end up becoming great friends and their babies have many play dates together

Tani and Jake have matching Metkayina tattoos on their shoulders

My Metkayina OC 🌊🐋🪼🐚

Name: Ni’raya te Tapuae Fetu'ite

Mother: Fetu te Tapuae Kanani'ite

Father: Aolani te Tapuae Akela'itan

Age: 27

Clan: Metkayina

Occupation: Free diver and hunter

Background: Ni’raya is a strong-willed young free diver who spends much of her time training young clan members and hunters readying to pass their iknimayas. She prides herself in shaping the young members find their place in the clan. At times she feels a bit suffocated by duties and finds herself wanting to just swim and hunt. Her mother is a known healer in the clan. Several elders apprentice under their Tsahìk separate from the Tsakarem so that the clan has plenty of sub healers handy. Her father is a renowned warrior help protecting the clan alongside the Olo’eyktans for many years Her family is very high ranking, they are like clan royalty

She and Kaipo have been courting one another for several years now. One of the strongest warriors of the clan, a high ranking hunter who proactively keeps the clan safe amongst their Olo’eyktan Tonowari. Kaipo specializes in weave making and on his free time helps to train young free divers with Ni’raya

Family name Tapuae

The new love interest :

Kaipo te Hawea Kanaloa’itan

Kaipo: means sweetheart

Hawea: means peacemaker

Kanaloa: means king of the ocean

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elkieselkiewrites · 2 months ago

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Happy STS! assuming your OCs have been invited/broken in to a super fancy party - what are they wearing, what are they there for, are they having a good time or have they been dragged in protesting?

Happy STS!

I'll answer for Postmaster characters today. Assuming this is mid-canon, they have likely been invited somewhere as guests and friends of Renia or Bolek (what with them being aristocracy).

Ida would, of course, be wearing her uniform: a white linen shirt under a brilliant blue woolen doublet with brass buttons and matching breeches, marigold stockings, a marigold one-shoulder mantle, and a blue cap. She wouldn't be dragged kicking and screaming there, but she'd rather be in her bed at a reasonable hour than drinking and dancing. She can't dance, for one, but could be persuaded to attend with some guilt-tripping and the promise of good food.

Renia and Bolek would be dressed to the nines, given their stations. Renia would be in a Gorian-style satin gown with full sleeves and a lace-trimmed smock with a broad, starched collar, probably in a forest green or midnight blue. She'd, of course, wear her hair up, and decorated with a lace cap. Bolek would be in black or dark grey himself, as he dislikes fancy clothes at the best of times. He would be in a traditional Gorian robe, tied with an embroidered sash, and would probably also be wearing a traditional cloak with arm slits and a stiff collar. Neither of them are social butterflies, but that's part of why they'd invite the rest of their travelling companions. You don't feel out of place when surrounded by your friends.

The Favalan are the most elaborately dressed, and the happiest to be there. Favalan love a fancy social gathering, and Luus and Neer are no exception. They are the most gregarious, they drink the most, are dressed in the most lace and embroidery, though the style is quite different to their Theden companions. Even Til and Nol, who are less social, more serious and socially awkward (respectively), wear the fashion from the Weterlands: regardless of gender, bodices have high necklines, slashed sleeves, and plenty of brocade and beading. Rather than skirts or breeches, Favalan have fashion to suit their long tails, and all genders wear "pumpkin" hose and colourful braies with high boots (to keep their legs dry when walking the Weterland canals). Luus and Neer will be drunk and dancing and socialising a lot, while Til will be watching her wife from afar with fond exasperation, and Nol would be most likely found with a sketchbook in a corner somewhere hoping to find fashion inspiration while avoiding any and all conversation.

Muin culture does not prize clothing as much as Favalan or Theden do, so much of what Fannan wears would look simplistic to those accustomed to elaborate satin, silk and wool. Most Muin clothes are made of bast fibre from nettles or flax, even their armour is usually a kind of linothorax - hardened layers of twined linen constructed like scales or plates - but that's not to say it can't be as intricate and beautiful as Theden designs. Fannan would likely be wearing a long linen tunic dyed bright orange by polypores, with a mixture of drawn threadwork and needlepoint embroidery along the neckline and edges, fastened by a woven belt. Fannan is a diplomat by trade, and loves Theden art and music, so would be delighted to be at a Theden party, taking in the sights and sounds, and making as many connections as he can manage.

Aarna would be likely wearing a doublet and breeches similar to Ida, but padded with wool, as is Delvish fashion, to appear softer and less "stone-like". Unlike Ida, Aarna's doublet and breeches would be made of leather, likely pinked with intricate patterns of stars (also the fashion out of the Delflands). Aarna is not much for Theden-style dancing, but is more than willing to strike up a conversation or two over a mug of something more alcoholic than wine. No one would dare try and match him drink for drink, though. He's literally made of stone, and has a constitution to match!

#asks and answers #storyteller saturday #postmasterwip #sorry this took so long #I looked up one word and then ended up in a wiki hole learning about the Livonian war for 3 hours

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hyperfluffed-scribbles · 2 years ago

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Welcome to my hovel

hi. My name is hyper. I use she/her, and I’m a minor. I post whatever I want here. Right now it’s mostly rain world but I’ve also the magnus archives on the brain as of late ! Expect cringe all around.

General rules/things to keep in mind

Do not send me anything nsfw/suggestive pretty please.

Don’t interact with me if you fall under basic DNI criteria. That means racists, homophobes, transphobes, terfs, and pedos.

You can send in art requests! I can’t. Guarantee I’ll get around to doing them. But you can !!!

Please ask beforehand if you want to use my art for something. I don’t bite !

Ask me things …… I beg……… i plead ……

If I don’t like you I will block you.

Other places you can find me

My Sketchers united (where I also post art!): https://sketchersunited.org/users/131359

My main blog @hyperfluffed

My YouTube (I animate sometimes! Barely!): https://youtube.com/@hyperfluffed?si=j-P-CJbvFSvUNvH_

My copious amount of sideblogs @tim-stoker-tuesday @portable-holes @stuck-in-the-home @scugaliciousdefinition

My ao3 (I haven’t written anything yet but I plan to eventually…. Maybe …..): https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperFluffed

my Artfight (where I host most of my OCs): https://artfight.net/~HyperFluff

Tags

ocs are all tagged with #oc: name

#hypers cool rain world stuff - rain world OC’s

#fandom art - any art from a fandom

#hypers skrunkly hoard - oc tag

#jonjohn - anything relating to the crackship of John Ward x Jon Sims my friends and I made.

#animations - for whenever I remember to animate stuff

Art is tagged with the year it was made. Watch me improve in real time !! Maybe!! When I remember to post!!

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c-cocco · 2 months ago

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kinda been taking it into my own hands as far as making my own little true form sukuna plushie goes since i'm not really sure if or when an official one would come out (tho, tbh i'm not completely sure how long it'd take me to actually make this x_x)

(more design rambles under the cut)

i kinda got the very general design idea/pattern from my little persona plushies i got (here's the joker one as an example)

the body is a simple front and back piece with separate arms and the head two front pieces (the face/head piece and the hair/bangs) with a little dart on the top center line and at least two back pieces (a third can be layered on top if you're making a character with longer hair), then two extra ear pieces that sewn into the side seams. In sukuna's case, his body would obviously have to be a bit bigger to fit in the extra arms but i feel like that shouldn't be too hard to figure out proportions wise (i know those are kinda off in this sketch, but i just wanted to get the basic ideas down xD;; ...i also forgot about the back two pieces of the head x_x;;).

I'm just not sure about how i want to do the details tho.. like i know that, unlike the persona ones, i want to make the clothes separate (b/c i'm a sucker for making little outfits) but, as stated in the side notes of the sketch, while im a bit more sold on doing embroidery (or embroidery + felt patches) for the face bits, im really not sure how to do his tattoos... im currently less sold on embroidering those and leaning more towards patching them on with felt (especially if i end up using felt for the skin fabric).

most of the fabric for the joker one is this 'felt-ish'/fleece-y feeling stuff that has some sort of a woven layer to it so it's a bit more stable (idk what it's called but i know it's used a lot with plushies) which makes it a good option (aside from knowing where to buy it) but i dont think patching them on would look as integrated. i could piece them in but that would probably be more trouble than it's worth at this small a scale.. i think most of the official plushies embroider them in now that i think of it so i'll probably have to do that unless there's a way i can still patch them on with a thinner fabric 🤔 (perhaps it would be a way to add a different texture too....)

the hair is pretty straightforward in comparison.. the joker plush uses that soft minky fabric with the short pile so i'm probably going to use that (it's just... hopefully i can find that specific shade of pink-beige-ish.. tho pink is still a good plan b if i can't ofc).

i think that's about it with my thoughts on the matter.. i'm also planning out a gojo one too even tho i know there's plenty of small plushies for him xDD i'll probably share those sketches as well since i'm currently messing around with how i want to do his hair and face and may need some help deciding;;; i did have the idea of doing his irises in sparkly seed beads but i may need to do a little test of that to see if that could even work xD;;;; if not there's always sparkly embroidery thread (tho that stuff is tough to work with x_x)

if you read to the end of this ramble o_O thank you. here's an extra sketch of the plush i also want to make of one of my ocs xD

#making plushies of the comfort/fav characters so i can put them all on one wrist thing so i can carry them around #/joking but also kinda not joking #if the horde of charms hanging off my phone have anything to say is that i lack restraint with that sort of thing xD #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna

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secret-engima · 1 year ago

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So I Did A Thing

And that thing was go a wee bit insane for the new year and update 4 fics and post 3 more! So rather than spam everyone with individual posts for each update, here's a list of em!!

A Heart Once Hardened (Hopes, One Day)

BNHA multichap set in the Feather-Light and Ember-Bright verse. Get your newest free dose of Enji and Dabi angst here >:3.

Good Luck Bead

Non-canon CfR oneshot where Nyx faceplants into the past and succeeds in not running into any Plot Important Characters for- less than five minutes.

A Fairytale (That's Full of Charm)

If anyone remembers me threatening to make a ground-up rewrite of RWBY the show- this is the first chapter of that. I have my au hammers and Plenty Of Ideas planned. :3

Made This Promise (Always I Dreamed About You)

Chapter 3 of Made This Promise/OC-insert Raven is UP! We get Qrow pov this time. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about- it's oc-insert as Raven in RWBY but with a bunch of other tropes and angsty things thrown in.

Broken (But Never to Pieces)

Latest entry in Blood of My Blood verse!! Cor-centric, Drautos-centric look at what happened with them to change things so much in this au. Finally. Second chapter is UP.

Worlds Unseen (Calling You and Me)

Horizon Zero Dawn/FFXV crossover where each chapter alternates in setting. Chapter 11 is finally up!! We're covering the Proving let's gooo.

Nothing But A Voice Within (Calls Me Home)

Chapter 4 of my Demon Slayer fixit fic! OC-centric, mind the tags, also the rating went from T to M for reasons that you can surmise from the tags probably. The chapter that bumps it to M has not yet been posted so you are in the clear for now if that is a concern.

And there we go! All my updates for this year so far. Make sure you're signed in on ao3 to view them, as all my fics are locked (thank you AI scraping and corpos)

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #RWBY rewrite verse #Feather Light and Ember Bright verse #Worlds Unseen verse #Blood of My Blood (That Was Shed on the Throne) verse #Child of My Blood verse #Calling for Rain verse #Always I Dreamed verse

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adelaidedrubman · 5 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 13: ORAL + minthara baenre x kyrene multhoma (durge oc) | from prompt list by starsandskies

summary: minthara grants kyrene the chance to finally indulge herself without fear. wordcount: 4.2k notes/warnings: y’know. explicit NSFW. background mentions of grove slaughter (she did all that!). intrusive violent thoughts during sex slash internal monologue of general durge stuff (amnesia, fear of losing control, etc.). praise kink. biting with a smidge of blood kink implied. very mildly implied masochism on kyrene’s part. brief, light bondage. and pretty unavoidable lack of proper prior negotiation on all of this (unless you count tadpole brain blast). sometimes women need to think about killing each other a little during sex ok

Indulge.

The call was static sparking pulses painted in the furious hot pink of blood pounding through flesh from the moment she first saw Minthara, throbbing so heavy in her ears she felt as if her tiny brain was being squeezed down to a single fold by the force, every other thought wrung to drip out as a bead of sweat crawling down the back of her neck.

Indulge, indulge.

It had first come as a sort of permission, spoken aloud by the paladin herself.

Join my hunt.

A command, more accurately, no room for disagreement. But her voice grew so tinted warm with approval through its dark gravel as she spoke of the blood Kyrene was to spill that it felt one in the same, the gleam in the crimson pooling from black depths of her eyes making it feel equally like a promise. Such a stark contrast, from the stinging edge to Shadowheart scolding her for being carried by the fancy to pluck suddenly materialized hand from wrist those days before.

A sigh fell from Kyrene’s lips as calloused fingers stroked their swell, and she wondered if she could have ever stopped the affection that bloomed in her chest the moment she heard the words, her heart tangling in the garden that sprang to life in a single beat. Had she thought to steel it with a reminder of control yourself, it will pass, instead of allowing the constant mantra to fall away, suspended, replaced by a whisper.

Indulge, indulge.

That was the offer as Kyrene heard it, whatever terms of battle plans it had taken form as, it was a caress along the back of her ear and a whisper — ‘Indulge,’ it fell in a warm breeze against skin, ‘You may finally indulge yourself.’

It was there, before greedy fingertips already twitching with anticipation, as if she were a child turned loose in a candy store and about to spring, all the restraint shown a final glance back to the adult who’d led her through the door with wide, questioning eyes.

‘Are you joking?’ she’d asked, with the same giddy awe.

Minthara had raised her brow, raised her arms to study the thick spider silk woven around them.

‘Have I mistakenly donned my jester’s bells rather than my armor?’ she had asked dryly. ‘The Absolute demands loyal soldiers ready to serve obediently, True Soul. Not clowns.’

It was a reasoning that made perfect sense to Kyrene, despite the way her mind flailed against the influence of the very tadpole the Nightwarden pledged allegiance to.

It felt dreamlike, too perfect to be true.

A moment in time she could satiate that unending demand for blood gnawing at her insides until she felt hollowed out, fill it back with torn flesh and splintered bone and a flood of gushing crimson plentiful enough to drown anyone without the appetite to greedily gulp it downs.

And yet, for the first time — and this was the most seductive part, what truly made her swoon — safe, contained.

She could do it all without the fear prickling at the back of her neck that she would lose herself to it, lose herself before she’d ever really found herself in the first place.

No, no. All those fears were smoke dissipating in the breeze. The tight vice of the Nightwarden’s authority would contain her, offer her warm embrace rather than rejection when she returned in blood soaked rags picked from slain bodies.

She had worried, for but a moment as she walked through the threshold, that the second part wouldn’t happen, that she’d been foolish, so naïve as always, building her own world covered with a tint of rose that would never trickle past the domain of her own deluded mind.

But now Minthara’s powerful arms circled her as she kissed her deeply, made her feel so tightly held and kept in place.

It was all Kyrene had ever craved, more than she could have dreamed: to feel embraced and controlled at the same time, the promise that someone —

“I’ve got you, little alvassun,” Minthara managed to finish Kyrene’s flurry of thoughts for her just as her knees buckled, grounding her back in her body as sure as the arm wrapped at the small of her back kept her in place.

Kyrene stuttered out a pleasured gasp in excuse for gratitude, the term fluttering against her ears with a warm endearment despite her uncertainty as to its meaning.

‘Little’ was itself enough to make her cheeks flush with the weight of fancy, with her spindly limbs draped awkwardly over Minthara’s shoulders. With boots of her armor kicked aside, the inches Kyrene stretched over the Nigthwarden became all the more obvious, making her feel even more clumsy and unwieldy.

But Minthara manipulated her body with a fluid ease, guiding her back seated atop the table, long legs dangling as Minthara slotted herself between them. “In other circumstance I would find it disgraceful, possessing such frailty you’re incapable of even standing on your own two feet without wilting.”

Kyrene’s graze dropped to the floor as lithe fingers slipped beneath her chin, thumb settling just below her lips. “But I suppose I cannot fault you for being overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of sharing a night with me,” she added before leaning in to kiss her again.

Kyrene sighed into her, melting and winding tight simultaneously — relief paired with another wave of prickling nerves, unsure exactly what to do. Unsure of much of anything other than that Minthara had her.

Minthara had her, so she could do what she wanted, couldn’t she? Wasn’t that always it?

Indulge.

Kyrene had the vague inkling of memories of other lovers, of bodies pressed against hers in ecstasy. But she couldn’t remember faces or names or whether it ended with spasming insides ripped out to be kissed by the light of the world.

And for the short stretch of her life she could remember with any clarity, Kyrene was far more familiar with desperately trying to ensure her hands were stiffly kept to themselves than she was with allowing them to go and do as they wished. She wondered where she should place them on Minthara’s body, how to let them be driven by desire to please rather than destroy the flesh they found.

Unsure as they were, they explored to find soft curves and firm muscle, ridges of bone and wisps of silvery white hair. They found skin, so much beautiful, smooth skin her mouth watered to taste in wake of the glide of her fingers.

They reached beneath the firm spidersilk of her clothing to feel more, fingertips brushing over pebbled flesh hugging pert nipple.

She whimpered, a shudder running through her and causing her own nipples to harden and her jaw to tense — her teeth clamping down into the tender flesh of the lips she kissed.

Followed by the cold rush of fear swarming her for the first time since they’d begun their embrace, the sickening threat of losing control.

She yelped and jerked back as if she’d been the one bitten, brow furrowing upward in apology as her eyes settled on the heavy throbbing of Minthara’s pulse — she felt it in her own jugular, blood leaping to the surface, pounding at the delicate layer of skin in which it came gift wrapped.

But Minthara only smirked in return, a sharp curve of freshly flushed lips, crimson bleeding through rose bleeding through violet.

Was it alright? Kyrene wondered. Could she let her body do as it pleased?

Kyrene offered a sheepish smile and dropped to her knees, bone thudding with a painful smack against the stone floor, and laid fingertips at the hem of Minthara’s trousers.

“Tell me what to do,” she whispered, raising her chin, her eyes lingering at the Nightwarden’s hips as she gripped the fabric and pulled.

“Oh, you will do quite nicely indeed,” Minthara replied, dragging a thumb along Kyrene’s lower lip, pressing just past to its slick underside. “Already in your place, so ready to please.”

She nodded eagerly, looked on with bated breath as Minthara’s thumb scraped past teeth to guide Kyrene’s jaw to drop, fingers curling around her chin to pull her closer as she widened her stance to leave no room for confusion.

“Go on and taste,” she invited, sliding her hand around to cradle the back of Kyrene’s skull. “Lap up every last drop, until we’re both satisfied.”

Just as Kyrene thought her heart couldn’t pound any harder against her ribs, it became enough she felt as if it could leap between their gaps and pour right onto the floor at the fresh promise of gorging herself — perhaps it would have, if her body weren’t so driven and held together by the need to keep going, to have her.

She opened wide on instinct to taste as much as she could of Minthara, as if the chance could disappear if she didn’t swiftly swallow it down — the feeling of smooth, plush skin against her lips and tongue only intensifying hunger.

She pulled herself back to center, closed the clumsy gaping of her lips as if in a proper kiss. She pushed her tongue past pursed lips and buried her face further between Minthara’s legs, gave a few clumsy laps of her tongue along swollen skin before allowing it to travel to her center.

The slickness she tasted felt like sparks against her tongue — sharp and sweet all at once. She curled her tongue in to savor, gulped hard. And the world seemed to grow fogged over with her.

Her head grew light and her cheeks hot, she felt as if she’d been sipping wine. She unfurled her tongue to allow it to search for more.

Her head swam, dizzied, all flashes of colors and hot cold chills, electric humming in her ears, down to her molars.

Her stomach clenched and that wanting ache surged fresh just below, that feeling of being hollow and high charged, of needing to be fucked, filled, touched — anything to relieve the pressure.

She felt a reflexive thrust forward of her hips in searching as she dragged her tongue back and forth, increasing pace until she was lapping greedily.

She dared to reach down, to drag a thumb along the seam of her bloomers to test if the slight touch would soothe her or threaten to send the frenzy building in her boiling over.

Her spine arched inward with the jolt of ecstasy that shot through every nerve from her own teasing touch, the featherlight sensation of cotton clinging to her from dampness suddenly overwhelming even as she jerked the hand away. A moan quaked from deep inside her up through the column of her throat to spill from quivering lips, the only release of tension available.

She slid her mouth upward along Minthara’s lips before parting for air, allowing hot, ragged breaths to fall against her clit.

It was but a few heaves of Kyrene’s chest before Minthara spoke.

She reached down to pull Kyrene’s arm by the wrist, guiding her hand between her legs, deep voice seeming to have gained its own subtle tremor as she instructed, “If your mouth fails you, put those hands of yours to work.”

Kyrene was all too eager to comply.

She inhaled deeply as she slipped her fingers inside of Minthara, her final effort to catch her breath before she tensed her lips into a ring and covered Minthara’s clit.

Feeling Minthara on her fingers was almost as intoxicating as tasting her, luxurious satin wrapping tight around her touch to chase. She took the signal to suckle harder on her clit, the only thing still tethering her to reality the drive to give Minthara more, give her as much as she wanted.

“Good,” Minthara gasped out in appreciation, timbre of her voice somehow as rich as ever despite her own increasingly obvious struggle for air. “Keep doing good for me, my girl.”

Kyrene felt tears cling to her lashes as she squeezed her eyes shut tight in focus, willing herself to keep going rather than crumble to pieces at the praise, to once again seek more more more as much as she could handle. To suck until her jaw ached, thrust her fingers until her arm burned from knuckles to elbow.

And even without words the telltale twitch and tighten of the Nightwarden around her fingers as she stroked a hand from the crown of Kyrene’s head down to the nape of her neck and up again was praise enough, made her heart flutter in her chest as it swelled with warmth. And when that tight grip around her fingers suddenly snapped loose and fluttered in the same rhythm, Kyrene willed her eyes to shoot open, rolling to the back of her head to glimpse Minthara tossing her head back and letting out a satisfied ‘ah.’

The brush of Minthara’s fingers slowed and settled at her neck as she rode out her finish, rocking against her mouth and hands.

“Good,” she repeated, hoarsened yet still. She stepped back, leaving Kyrene’s outstretched fingers suddenly chilled in the air. “You’ve earned something for yourself.”

Without delay Minthara reached down to slide arms beneath Kyrene, leaving her in awe of her quickly recovered strength as she lifted her up to prop her on the table.

Kyrene could feel her own heavy pulse reverberate against Minthara’s lips as she trailed kisses down her throat, her own fragile life cradled in the hands that teased at her thighs.

“P-Please —” she gasped, arching her back towards the Nightwarden, arms tangling around her neck. “Please — Give me —” She gasped, trying to make sense of what she wanted. Trying to make sense of the heavy throb that rattled through her very bones, made her feel every inch of her body with sudden awareness. “I want you, I want you to —”

“You beg so easily,” Minthara rumbled against the slope of pale pink cleavage flushed to match the deep rose nipples she then flicked her tongue against. “But as lovely as it is, it is unnecessary. I won’t deny you. Not a single whim.”

The notion ratcheted through Kyrene’s mind in a whirlwind, possibilities stoking themselves to life to one after another snatch her attention so quickly she couldn’t process one to its conclusion as a full thought, a cacophony of buried impulses shrieking in her ear.

( — warm flesh pressed hard and harder still until — teeth and nails thrashing, spikes of pain rippling to — sweet taste of her lingering on her tongue taste of salt clinging to skin taste of copper as blood pooled in her mouth taste of — tight tight tight squeezing until — full, finally full and —)

As Kyrene tried to blink away the shadows closing around her vision she realized Minthara was kneeling on a single knee between her legs, leisurely trailing fingers along her thighs before pausing to study the deep purple bruising that had bloomed to life on bony knees from their time pressed against the hard stone ground.

“A lovely color on you,” Minthara said with a devastatingly gorgeous smile. “Made all the lovelier knowing how it came to be.”

She bowed her head to press a delicate kiss to the skin before pulling down Kyrene’s ruffled shorts, parting her lips and dipping her head towards the place she ached most.

“N-No,” Kyrene gasped before she could stop herself, the look of half-shock, half-offense the Nightwarden gave her at the word more stomach churning than the spark of fear that had moved her to speak. “No, I want…”

(— want pounding blood want limbs falling limp want to keep — )

“I want you up here,” she finished, fluttering her eyelashes. “I want you to use your hands.”

Because she didn’t know what she’d do, if their bodies weren’t mirrored. If it wasn’t Minthara’s mouth against hers and rich crimson gaze staring back at her and her beautiful voice drowning out the noise of her thoughts.

“I want the sound of your voice, want you to talk to me through it. Tell me when to let go,” she said, slipping into that second meaning with a slowly fading fear attached. “I want you to look into my eyes. I want you to kiss me. I want you.”

She didn’t know what she’d do if they weren’t one in this moment, if she couldn’t feel her own body anchored by Minthara’s.

Minthara’s expression softened, and she offered a thoughtful ‘hm’ and a kiss to the opposite knee before she rose to stand.

“I promised you your every whim,” she rasped, pressing her forehead to Kyrene’s. “I’ll gladly indulge this one.”

Indulge.

Kyrene allowed her head to loll back as Minthara stroked knuckles along the length of silken folds, pinching her lower lip between her teeth as her heart raced at the idea of Minthara indulging in her, desiring her without restraint.

It was all she ever wanted.

“Take me,” Kyrene croaked out, a small squeak she was unsure could even be heard.

Minthara gave her a single hum of a laugh as she pressed a firm finger into her, kissing the length of throat Kyrene exposed. “You were already mine.”

Kyrene panted, she felt wine drunk again — a good feeling, she decided, all warm sensation that electrified her, but kept her too heavied and dazed to know what to do with it on her own.

“You will be mine still, when you lay back in bed at your camp tonight,” she continued, teasing a second finger at her entrance to wet its tip before slipping it to join the first. “You will be mine when you close your eyes and drift away.”

She bucked her hips forward as Minthara angled her hand to press its heel against Kyrene’s clit, grinding slowly. She curled her hands into fists until her nails sliced into the palm of her own hand, picturing the blood seeping half-moons that must be forming there.

“You will fall apart for me, then beg to be mine again,” she leaned forward to whisper into Kyrene’s ear, breath near to scalding as it fell against her already blood deepened and friction chapped cheeks. “You will belong to me for as long as you can stand tonight.”

Kyrene released the worried flesh of her lips from between her teeth long enough to let out a high pitched whine, then bit down harder.

But before she could suck down the blood that trickled from it, Minthara’s tongue glided to whisk it away and nudge teeth to part.

“There’s no need to be shy,” she coaxed between delicate kisses. “You may put your hands on me again.”

“I want to,” Kyrene whimpered, feeling her stomach coil tight enough to push the air from her lungs. She could feel herself drawing close to her finish, to the point of inevitability, to an end that was still too unsure, too overwhelming. “I can’t,” she forced out, sliding her hands back. “I need — I want to —”

Perhaps she should have warned Minthara, about the way she was prone to losing herself. That she was drawn to her by a trail of blood from the very beginning.

Warned her before it was too late, before it felt too good to tell her to stop before control snapped.

“I want to — I shouldn’t hold you,” she near sobbed, feeling far too raw and worn down to her very core, like bones laid bare then gnawed even further to their marrow. “I want you to hold me, I want to — I want —”

She shook her head at the sound of her own incoherent words hitting her ears, tensed in tight — then relaxed fully, stilling herself and dropping the barricade of her mind as she looked into Minthara’s eyes.

She floated in some no-man’s space, almost nauseous as Minthara stared back at her with a blank expression, stuck between terror and sheer bliss. There was knowing, in crimson eyes, but she couldn’t tell yet if that sickened or enticed her.

“I see,” Minthara said plainly, the tension in Kyrene’s stomach feeling equally uncertain.

But then Minthara smiled again, smiled that beautiful, elegant smile Kyrene thought must have brightened the whole underdark.

“I know what it is you wish,” she whispered, fingers thrusting more forcefully, as if she was no longer holding back.

Her other hand reached for Kyrene’s discarded bloomers, a flash of blinding white across Kyrene’s lust blurred vision as she caught their hem between her teeth — then jerked her arm to tear a long strip of cloth from it, left hanging from her mouth.

“And you shall have it,” Minthara murmured around fabric, just as her hand pulled away to leave the overstimulated skin suddenly meeting only cold air.

Kyrene’s desperate cry of protest was silenced by Minthara’s lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth to feed her the faint taste of blood from an unsure source as her arms circled around her.

Kyrene heard the sound of fabric brushing against fabric and felt her wrists suddenly pulled together, pulse drumming against matching pulse as she made sense of the fingers darting about to tie the torn remnants of her shorts around her wrist to bind them.

Minthara gave a final tug of the ends to fasten the makeshift restraint tight enough to cut into skin, a pleasant and reassuring sting that sent Kyrene’s blood boiling all the hotter.

“There,” Minthara said as her hands circled around the blonde’s waist and back to center.

It was a single but torturously slow rake of Minthara’s eyes down her body, settling with particular cruelty on hips desperately bucking forward in search of anything that could grant the return of friction, a stuttering plea her mouth couldn’t manage.

“If only I had thought to do this sooner, so I could properly toy with you,” Minthara sighed, mercifully resituating her hand between her legs. “If I couldn’t already see just how pretty you’re going to look, coming undone around my fingers.”

Thankfully, this time Minthara didn’t go one by one when she slipped fingers inside her — Kyrene realized she had in fact added a third as she felt the exhilarating stretch of tender flesh and muscle as they reached deeper than before while Minthara kept her free hand at the small of her back to push her to the table’s ledge, leaving her nowhere to go.

Not that she would have wanted to go anywhere — she never wanted her heart to beat any slower or her skin to feel any cooler or the pull around fingers to be any looser or the thread she hung by to be any less frayed and thin.

“I want to see it right now,” Minthara purred, her voice so dark and strong with that firm authority that had first made Kyrene swoon, made it all feel so undeniable. “Go on.”

She lifted the hand from Kyrene’s back and brought it to her front, this time pressing only a single thumb against her clit — teasingly, at first, despite the unrelenting pace of her fingers, a slow back and forth swipe along the lips that hugged it.

“It’s alright,” she reassured, eyes appearing almost soft as crimson darkened. “Let go, my sweet alvassun.”

The movement against her clit was so suddenly forceful and focused that Kyrene couldn’t have refused even if she’d wanted to, a final deep thrust of fingers inside her before they curled to press in a way that made pleasure spark brightest.

The thread she hung by snapped with such a forceful rebound it felt as if it sent Kyrene hurtling through space, as if she were being tossed about in a flurrying storm of bliss, powerless against its winds buffeting her chapped skin.

All that kept her anchored was the savoring delight flashing across Minthara’s face as she kept her gaze settled between Kyrene’s legs, thumb resuming its slow, teasing stroke over oversensitive clit as she pulsed around now resting still fingers.

And she felt the chafing of fabric against her wrists as her body writhed, what she focused on most as she rode out those final waves.

When she finally came down, those tied wrists were what Minthara reached for first as she pressed a kiss to Kyrene’s shoulder, pulling the fabric loose.

She brought a wrist to her lips, kissing the bright red ring that had formed on them from the friction just as she had her bruised knees.

“I cannot decide,” Minthara broke the silence to say as she pulled Kyrene’s head in to rest against her chest, so that she could hear the heavy drum of her heartbeat. “If it is comfort or unease it brings me — the stillness and quietness I feel when I am with you.”

Kyrene made a soft noise of agreement as awareness dawned on her how quiet her own thoughts had been, nothing but the warmth of Minthara’s body against her own filling her mind — and more incredibly, that the abrupt awareness didn’t shatter the serenity, send her back to a rush of unbidden wants.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” Kyrene mused, snaking arms beneath Minthara’s to hold her and reaching up to allow hands to play absentmindedly at the silver hairs falling along the nape of her neck. “It can be both, I think.”

She had accepted that — that just as the boundaries between their minds didn’t have to exist, neither did the boundary between being at peace or at war with herself, between fear and excitement, between control and letting go, pleasure and pain, life and death.

She she still couldn’t guarantee which the night would end with as Minthara nodded in a way that nuzzled her nose against Kyrene’s neck, her breath tickling as she rested there, seemingly content to stay.

It didn’t matter, as long as it was her.

#nsft #this is largely just me taking the excuse to tinker with the canon romance content and playing around finding their voices #which i’m definitely still in the early stages of so. excuse shakiness.#kinda wanted to review and tweak more as well but i have another goal set for myself for tomorrow so alas #oh also not really worthy of a warning but maybe worthy of context for the throwaway line i probably should have cut for lack thereof:#kyrene had her feelings big hurt from shadowheart speaking meanies to her for hacking gale’s hand off (she had a crush on shadowheart</3)#otp: my tether‚ my freedom #<- also hey we have a proper ship name now finally #kyrenthara placeholder tag #<- for me going back to organize shit from when we didn’t #oc: kyrene multhoma #c: minthara baenre #kintober #StarsAndSkiesKinktober

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

Epilogue

A Kili X OC fic

Previous chapter

Tw: maybe not the perfect ending but at least she’s alive. Teeny tiny angst (just a smidge). Leaving a legacy, long story short - literally

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In which the author writes the final chapter of a series she has worked on for two and a half years within an hour

September 22nd, year 3001 of the Third Age

Raewyn was nothing if not honest. She had kept her promise of visiting Bilbo so often, it had indeed begun to annoy his neighbours. Her first few visits raised heads and widened eyes, but after only a short while, she had become a regular sight in the Shire, regardless of the fact she hadn't even lived there. Kili had joined her every time, claiming he wasn't that needed at the mountain. And though that mainly was a lie, Raewyn never commented on it. If anything; she would be a missed aspect as well. She had become a valuable asset in those 'stupid' meetings Kili used to tell her about, and had done much to improve Erebor when the dwarves finally returned.

In the times she couldn't be with her dear friend, she had left Farris in his care. Or rather - the other way around. The owl made sure Bilbo stayed out of trouble, especially considering the new interest he had gained when he began to talk about his adventures and encounters. Thankfully, Gandalf had been so kind to stop by Bag-end too, though not nearly as often as Raewyn and Kili did.

In the wizard's honest words, he came across Raewyn on plenty occasions, whether this was by simply passing through or coming for an actual visit. The king of Erebor had established him to be an esteemed guest - one that would always be welcome. He had, after all, helped them more than they could have ever hoped.

Raewyn's visits to the Shire were almost always pleasant. Bilbo made sure had an extra place to sleep, he had plenty of food, and - naturally - an uncounted amount of conversational topics. Be that as it may, this day seemed dull, which was odd considering the celebration going on.

Bilbo had been lingering in his study the entire day, which wasn't a rare thing for him to do. The oddity was the fact that the hobbit had visitors in his home, who had been seated in front of his hearth with some ale Frodo had supplied them with, even after alerting his uncle multiple times.

Bilbo had invited everyone who had joined the quest to Erebor, and though not all could come, there were many who did. Thorin and Dwalin had yet to arrive, but they'd travel with Gandalf. All others were awaiting any announcement from Bilbo. The fondness the company seemed to halt had dwindled down signigifcantly. Most of them had aged, and had become slower and less cheery than they used to be. And even as aging was a wonderful thing, the occasional remarks and silences had become uncomfortable.

Raewyn had found herself in the opening between the hall and the study, observing her friend bowed over his work, seemingly not acknowledging her presence. That, or he truly hadn't known she was standing there. Two arms wrapped around her waist from behind, before a head found its way onto her shoulder, the scruff of a beard scratching the side of her face. Subconsciously, her hand reached up to toy with the ends of his hair, twirling a bead between her fingers.

"Come join us, amrâlimê." Kili muttered, before placing a kiss on her cheek. Turning her head slightly to face him, she forced a forsaken smile. "If I have to listen to Gloin gloating about why his wife is better than all of us one more time, I'm going to jump into Erebor's forges." "I'd really rather you didn't." The dwarf grinned, resting his head back on her shoulder. "His words are empty. Everyone knows I win."

She couldn't suppress the chuckle rising from her throat at those words. "Oh, stop that." She scolded, nudging her head against his lightly before sighing. "That's not my point. We came here for Bilbo, and he's just..." Raewyn trailed off, flinging her hand towards Bilbo's hunched figure. "He's been here ever since we walked in."

Kili's eyes followed her motion, frowning as he saw the hobbit. "Perhaps it's important." "I don't doubt it." She agreed. "Just hoped he'd have some time for his friends."

The dwarf hummed in understanding, now retreating his arms as he parted from her. Then, he walked into the hobbit's study, ignoring his spouse's incredulous looks. "Kili!" She warned through a hushed whisper, but he had already approached Bilbo.

"What are you writing?" The dwarf asked as he looked over the smaller creature's shoulder. Bilbo cast a brief glance behind him, before returning to his works. "A book." He deadpanned.

"Yes, I see that." Kili mumbled. "What's it about?"

"You'll know when it's finished."

Waiting for the hobbit to return the quill into the ink jar, Kili grabbed the book, being mindful of the wet pages as he scrolled back to the first page. "There And Back Again?" He read aloud.

"Can I have that back?"

"Oh yes, eventually." The dwarf yielded, holding the book above his head so Bilbo couldn't reach it. "But Raewyn's here for you. And you haven't even greeted her yet."

At his words, Raewyn's face heated up slightly, grateful for Kili's words, even if they weren't spoken in the right situation. She gently smiled at him, which was greeted with that familiar childish wink. "This needs to be finished before tonight!" The old hobbit protested, trying to reach his work again.

"Bilbo, we came here for you and we have yet to receive a simple welcome. Your nephew had to greet us." Kili went on, not budging under Bilbo's words. "Oh, don't be silly - he doesn't mind." The hobbit scolded. "Frodo loves you."

"Of course he does, and he's lovely. But Bilbo, it's your birthday." Before either of them could continue, the book was grabbed from Kili's hands and placed back on Bilbo's desk. "Hey!" "That was very mature." Raewyn spoke, walking back to her husband.

"Thank you, dear." Bilbo sighed, immediately sitting back on his chair, continuing his work. The pair looked at Bilbo's back for a while with sorrowful smiles. When it was clear he wasn't going to talk, Raewyn nodded her head towards the hall, silently ushering Kili to follow her. As they both walked out, Bilbo stopped briefly, turning around in his chair.

"Welcome back, Raewyn." At the sound of his voice, she stopped too, casting her friend a kind smile. "Happy birthday, Bilbo." And with those words exchanged, they were once more met with the back of the smaller creature.

For a while, they stood in the hall, watching Bilbo's work with troubled expressions, Kili's hand tightly on Raewyn's hip, a familiar notion to both of them. Frodo met the pair there, noticing their looks on his uncle.

"He's been like that all day." The hobbit revealed, standing beside Raewyn. "I'm starting to worry about him."

"It's the age," Kili tried to comfort, pointing his free hand towards Bag-end's living room. "The lot there used to take down an entire battalion of orcs. Now, look at them."

"Aging is a wonderful thing." Raewyn disagreed, lightly slapping the dwarf's shoulder.

"Indeed. But it does meddle with one's mind."

"Yours, perhaps." She laughed, turning back to her nephew. "Pay him no mind, Frodo. I'm sure your uncle will turn around."

The young hobbit looked at her, shrugging lightly in defeat: "No, he's right. Bilbo is old." "It's a big day for him. Writing is a proper distraction." The Asha continued to comfort. "You shouldn't worry. Your uncle has faced things worse than stress - he'll manage. I'll keep an eye out for him." Though he didn't voice it, she could see faint relief in Frodo's eyes.

"You always do," He said. "Thank you." Then, he turned around, making its way towards the front door. Simultaneously, Raewyn and Kili followed him.

"Where are you going?" The dwarf wondered, casting a confused look to his wife, one she reciprocated. "East Farthing Woods. I'm going to surprise them!" Frodo announced, his mood picking up.

Frowning at his words, Raewyn placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Do you need us to come with you?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, Fili will be with me." The hobbit pointed his thumb towards the blond dwarf, who had indeed been waiting at the front door. A taunting but joking smile was on his face as he waved towards his brother and sister-in-law. "Of course he will, the bastard." Kili grumbled, glaring at his brother. "Escaping to leave us with the seniors." "You were gonna do the same." Raewyn muttered, hoping Frodo hadn't heard them. She turned to the hobbit, giving him a reassuring smile. "You go on, Frodo. We'll be here." All she got was a grin in response, before he walked towards Fili, who had already opened the door for him. He quickly turned around to give a final greeting towards the pair.

"Bye!"

"Bye, Frodo!" Raewyn returned. And with that, both the hobbit and the dwarf were gone.

The two stood in the hallway for a short while, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, a voice faintly called from the living room, assumingly talking to his companions: "Have I told ye about Milli yet?"

Raising her eyebrows, Raewyn turned to Kili. "You think the Green Dragon Inn is open already?" His mouth widened slightly, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Raewyn."

"She has the most beautiful beard I have ever seen on any dwarrowdam, have I told ye this? Truly magnificent."

Momentary contemplation was evident in his eyes before he grabbed her hand and ushered her towards the door. Laughter tore from her throat at his actions, but she mindlessly followed.

She didn't know it then, but that day would be her last day in the Shire. After the party, she and the dwarves helped Bilbo into Rivendell. before eventually leaving him there. She didn't get to say her farewells to Frodo and Bilbo until they were in the Grey Havens. The departure was filled with much sorrow and remorse, especially after she was forced to say goodbye to Gandalf, who had done his best to raise her all this years.

In his honour, she stayed behind in Middle-Earth, aiding Erebor in picking up the broken pieces of the kingdom after multiple raids from orcs, goblins and distant Haradrim. Khazad-dûm was reclaimed by the dwarves, with Gimli, son of Gloin, leading the expeditions. When Erebor was back at its height and their king had passed, Fili had taken over the throne, leaving Kili and Raewyn as his representatives, having established a bloodline of his own.

Raewyn and Kili spent the last of their days travelling, having been given much more freedom regarding Erebor now. When raising their own little family, they could still be found in the mountain, but more often than not, they'd be wandering the woods of Eryn Vorn, or exploring the planes of Eriador. Years later it would be their kin who would stand watch over Middle-Earth, protecting the common folk from any danger that might still lurk. Stories of them and Erebor would be told and written for centuries, their legacies not easily forgotten. Not by men, nor dwarves.

The End

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Taglist: @errruvande @writingawaymylife @justnerdystuffs @spidergirla5 @fallenangeloflight @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @lxdymormont @deathofafangirl01 @the-cranck-hobbit @chaoticpaintsplatter @bxtchopolis @radbarbariancupcake @gay-destiel

#tolkien #the hobbit #starcrossed losers #kili x reader #kili #kili durin #thorin oakenshield #kili imagine #raewyn asha #fili and kili #kili x oc #Kili x Raewyn #Bilbo Baggins #Gandalf the grey

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