Read This Incredible Fic And It Changed Me So Naturally I Had To Draw A Scene From It

read this incredible fic and it changed me so naturally i had to draw a scene from it

Vita: Oh no. I've just cut my finger. Seele: Let me kiss it so it'll get better! Vita: Does it work? Seele: Absolutely, Bronya-jiejie used to do it when I was a kid. - later that day - Vita: I need you to punch me in the mouth. Veliona: Fucking finally.

@ the anon who sent in the fuckgirl feixiao ask, tumblr died on me and sent your ask into the void while i was working on it 💀💀💀 so i’m rewriting it as a regular post shdhskksks my apologies 😔😔😔 this has some abo themes and very generous usage of the ‘love at first sight’ trope. also do mind the tags !!!

cw. allusions to/mentions of slavery

feixiao likes to call herself the lacking general, for she lacks in rivals, regrets and worries. yet for all she enjoys this title, there are instances where it certainly does not apply. for example, she does not lack in loyalty, in strength and in courage. but perhaps most importantly, is thatshe very much does not lack in women.

the merlin’s claw has somewhat of a reputation for being a rather… notorious tomcat. it is not uncommon to find the general at one of the few turquoise pavillions dotted across the yaoqing. of course, these establishments are vetted and regulated by the responsible commissions, and any services provided within the walls of the compound are entirely legal. after all, it would certainly be quite the scandal if the general frequented a place outside the law for any other reason than to bring down its judgement. in any case, many of these establishments eagerly await the foxian’s arrival upon every victorious battle, which is when she arrives with her entourage of soldiers in tow, high off a win against the abundance devils. drink and pleasure and debauchery flow freely on these nights like lifeblood.

and in the middle of it all sits feixiao, the great general and the star of the show. she’s surrounded by courtesans eager for her attention, who giggle and coo and bat their lashes at each word she says. they’re pretty—naturally—and perhaps a little too well into their cups. the bolder ones reach out to touch her arms, bare of her coat, tracing their fingers over the muscles of her biceps. they breathe sultry promises into her ears, coy and inviting, but feixiao hardly hears a word, because she’s far too preoccupied looking at you.

you’re entertaining a group of her men, refilling their tankards and smiling politely as they babble drunkenly. she drinks in the sight of your profile from afar like you’re the only drink she’ll indulge in tonight, from the line of your jaw to the swell of your lips and the bare, exposed skin of your nape. her gaze lingers on your hands, definitely smaller than hers, and she wonders what it’d be like to lace them with her own. what it’d be like to feel them card through her hair, scratch the base of her ears, and cradle the curve of her cheek. something bone-deep aches in her, and she’s standing up and moving before her brain even catches up to her body. the whines of the courtesans she’s left behind don’t even register as she walks up to you, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter in her chest.

(feixiao will later learn that what she feels is want. she doesn’t recognise it at first, because the first thing all slaves learn is that your wants are unimportant. but she is free now, has been for years, and this wanting in her chest is here to stay—and all it wants is you.)

so when you lift your head look at her, meeting her teal eyes, she’s completely and utterly gone.

feixiao has never believed in true mates. the childhood she had—if it could even be called such—could certainly kill any notion of fate or romance in a person. nothing could ever undo those scars, but something in her soothes at the sight of you and the scent of you that fills her nose, light and sweet like mint and honey. it settles on her tongue, and she swallows like she wants to drown in it. to feel it fill her lungs until it permeates into her blood. she runs her tongue under the pointed tips of her fangs, aching with want, before offering as charming a smile as she can muster and asking for your name.

you give it to her, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Vita: Oh no. I've just cut my finger. Seele: Let me kiss it so it'll get better! Vita: Does it work? Seele: Absolutely, Bronya-jiejie used to do it when I was a kid. - later that day - Vita: I need you to punch me in the mouth. Veliona: Fucking finally.

consider alpha acheron in a rut. she's huge, swollen, and aching to cum inside of you 😓

all she can think about is taking you hard and fast, leaving your hips bruised and shoulders and neck covered in bite marks.

acheron would definitely be into doggy-style (pun intended). i can also see her enjoying having you riding her while she bounces you on her cock. and she wants you to cum around her a few times before she fills you up.

but when she's ready, she's folding you into a mating press and stuffing you full of her cum, plugging you up with her knot afterwards.

thoughts? :3

cw. omegaverse

alpha acheron i feel is typically on the gentler side. she’s not the kind of alpha who likes posturing or flaunting their scent, she prefers to keep things lowkey, but if pressed she will show her fangs. she’s also very protective, despite being a loner with no pack or family. she makes brief but intense connections, connections that she’ll absolutely go to war for. alpha acheron is a sweetheart, really.

but alpha acheron in rut is just an animal, and you’re her prey now more than ever. your scent is intoxicating to her—sickeningly sweet, like overripe peaches. it makes her want to sink her teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder, right where your scent gland lies, and see if you taste like peaches too.

your body responds so sweetly to her, too. as she noses at that special spot on your neck, scraping her pointed canines against the skin there, your tight cunt slowly starts to give, allowing her to push her thick cock in deeper. her fingers mark bruises into your hips as she holds you still, ensuring you can do nothing but take her all the way. she snarls when her knot bumps your entrance, her entire body jolting as if stung by pleasure.

her brain is a fog of lust, one she can’t see past nor does she particularly want to. not when your whines sound like melodies in her ears, only increasing in pitch as she bullies her knot against cunt over and over until she finally slips in with a wet pop. you cry and wail at the sensation, walls fluttering around her length and she grunts as she empties deep inside of you, painting your insides white with rope after rope of her cum.

her teeth sink into your shoulder—not a mating bite, but dangerously close—as she cums, drawing blood and she can feel you tremble beneath her. as consolation she laves the bite with her tongue, nosing your shoulder affectionately as she slows the sharp rut of her hips, or as much as she can, now that she’s knotted you.

once her high ebbs, she gently holds you close to her chest, indulging in the warmth and tightness of you around her. her face is buried in your neck, and she breathes in your peach-sweet scent, and wishes she could stay here forever.