r/WOF_nsfw

Art: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/maaradjayt/

Beetle is patiently waiting for her girlfriend, Glint, to get out of the council meeting that Glint and her mother Snowfall got dragged into hours ago she can surprise Glint.

(BUT IF GREAT-AUNT TUNDRA DON'T SHUT UP ABOUT TRADE AGREEMENTS WITH THE COURT OF REFUGE IT'S GONNA BE A WHILE---)

Here a render i did of my oc. Sadly i dont know how too do cum. Model belongs too utahraptie

Hi everyone! I'm brand new on this Reddit!

I need a little help :

I can't find a erotic fan-fic :

The Fan-fic is the only one I find who having Tsunami x Flame (erotic)

The story takes place in the jade mountains. Tsunami gives a battle training with some student, I remember that Flame was angry because Tsunami won against him every time.

Towards the end of the day, When classes are over Flame asks to try again to beat tsunami. The fight makes them sweat terribly.

The erotic scene comes next because (not sure with this) Tsunami was in heat... Or because Tsunami making Flame horny.

The last information I have is that an artist has made 2 fan art nsfw. Which looks a lot like the erotic scene (face sitting, anal,)

If you have any ideas, let me know!

Art create by Loonie_Loo on Furaffinity.net

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/66111321/

Also I wanted to inform if anyone looking for a nsfw WoF themed server on discord, I have one, just DM me and I can add

Here is my nightwing oc presenting (model belongs to utah raptie. And oc and render belongs too me)

Art: Lunula

Glint, relax. This probably isn't even your mom Queen Snowfall's craziest idea to get the old IceWings like your great-aunt Tundra worked up.

The scene I wrote based on this:

The heavy porcelain plate felt unnaturally light in her hands, though the weight of the moment threatened to anchor her directly to the floorboards. Eighteen. Two small candles flickered atop the frosted layers, casting a gentle warmth against her scales as the wax slowly yielded to the heat.

An oversized ribbon badge remained pinned to her chest, emblazoned in bold cursive with Birthday Girl ♡. She stared down at the small paper tags tucked neatly against the edge of the cake.

FROM QUEEN SNOWFALL, the first card read in sharp, immaculate script. Tacked just beneath it was a second, smaller tag: AKA BEST MOM EVER.

She swallowed hard, a tiny bead of nervous sweat trickling down the side of her snout. Queen Snowfall stood nearby, watching with an expectant, maternal intensity that could melt glacial ice. The crown on her mother's brow gleamed, but it was the proud, unyielding grin on her face that made the young adult dragon's claws tremble slightly beneath the tray.

"Thanks, Mom..." she murmured, her voice tight with a mixture of deep affection and utter, overwhelming embarrassment.

She offered a strained, hesitant smile, her sharp teeth showing in a tentative expression of gratitude. Reaching adulthood was meant to bring independence and dignity, yet standing here under her mother's towering presence with a giant birthday ribbon pinned to her front, she felt every bit as small as she had years ago. Still, beneath the awkward blush warming her cheeks, the gesture hit its mark, leaving her equal parts flushed and touched on her eighteenth birthday.

Glint shifted her stance, praying to whatever ancient deities might be listening that the cake plate wouldn't slip. It was a standard-sized pastry, entirely inadequate for providing total coverage, and no matter how strategically she angled the sweet concoction, her left nipple remained defiantly half-exposed to the entire room.

If I tilt it higher, the bottom half shows. If I drop it lower, my chest is completely out. Why didn't anyone bring a towel? Why didn't I put on a tunic before coming downstairs?

Great-Aunt Tundra’s gaze was like a pair of icicles aimed directly at Glint’s chest. The older dragon drew herself up to her full, towering height, her snout curled in a blend of aristocratic horror and sheer disbelief.

"Snowfall," Tundra began, her voice dropping an octave into pure frosty judgment. "Is it customary now in the Ice Kingdom for the heir to receive her milestone eighteen years of age entirely unclad? Or have the royal tailors been executed without my knowledge?"

"Oh, hush, Tundra," Queen Snowfall snapped, though a nervous flutter of her wings betrayed her own mild fluster. She gestured grandly toward Glint, trying to gloss over the scandal with sheer regal authority. "She’s an adult today! She was in a rush! Besides, the cake is positioning... mostly... adequate."

"Mostly?" Lynx snorted, leaning back against the wall with a grin that threatened to split her face in two. She tilted her head, inspecting the angle. "I mean, technically, Glint, if you shift the icing about two inches to the left, you might achieve decency. Right now, you're giving the north wing a free show."

Glint’s face burned with a heat that felt entirely un-IceWing. I am eighteen. A fully grown adult. I should be standing tall, not using buttercream as emergency armor.

"Lynx, don't encourage her to move!" Sky chimed in anxiously, wringing his talons as he hovered near the refreshment table. "If she moves, the cake might tilt! And if the cake tilts, the candles fall, and then we have a fire, and then—well, the frosting will melt off anyway!"

"It’s not going to catch fire, Sky," Winter said, rubbing the bridge of his snout with a heavy, long-suffering sigh. He looked studiously at the ceiling, doing his absolute best to respect his niece's privacy while participating in the room's mounting absurdity. "Though I do agree that perhaps a blanket—or literally any piece of fabric within a three-mile radius—would be a prudent addition to the festivities."

"Thanks, Uncle Winter," Glint mumbled, her voice squeaking slightly as she squeezed her elbows inward, attempting to squeeze the cake closer without squishing the Happy 18 lettering. "I really appreciate the concern for my modesty."

"Don't you dare ruin the presentation!" Snowfall beamed, stepping forward to adjust the little paper tag that read AKA BEST MOM EVER. "Look how lovely it is! I picked the frosting color myself!"

"It's a magnificent cake, Mom," Glint said, her eyes pleading as she held her mother's gaze. Please read my mind. Please go get a cloak. "Really. It's... lovely."

Tundra sniffed loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. "It is a scandal. A frosted scandal."

"Oh, live a little, Tundra," Lynx laughed, nudging Winter's shoulder. "It’s an eighteen-year landmark! Freedom, adulthood, and terrible timing."

Glint closed her eyes for a brief second, taking a slow, steadying breath. Just hold the plate, smile, and wait for someone to blow out the candles.

The heavy ice doors of the hall swung wide with a sudden, echoing bang, admitting a sudden swirl of arctic air alongside two late arrivals.

Aunt Crystal entered first, sweeping into the room with effortless poise, while Aunt Mink bounced in right beside her, practically vibrating with excitement.

"We made it!" Mink announced loudly, her bright eyes sweeping the room before landing squarely on Glint. "Happy eighteen—oh! Wow. That is... very minimal attire, Glint."

"Mink, hush," Crystal chided smoothly, though her eyes widened as she took in the scene: Glint standing frozen in the center of the room, clutching a strategic birthday cake to her chest while Great-Aunt Tundra practically radiated frosty disapproval. Crystal let out a low, amused chuckle. "Well. It seems we arrived just in time for the main event."

Glint’s face flushed a deep, agonizing blue. She squeezed her elbows tighter around the porcelain plate, trying frantically to keep the edge of the cake positioned over her left side while attempting a casual, welcoming nod.

"Aunt Crystal! Aunt Mink!" Glint squeaked out, her voice pitching up an octave. "You... you made it. Yay."

Please let them be the last ones, Glint prayed silently, her claws digging into the underside of the tray. If one more dragon walks through those doors while I’m using buttercream as armor, I’m going to bury myself in a snowdrift and never come out.

"See?" Queen Snowfall declared proudly, ignoring the snickers from Lynx and Uncle Winter. "More guests! And the presentation is still intact!"

"Barely, Snowfall," Crystal said, pulling a folded, plush faux-fur cloak from the satchel slung over her shoulder. She stepped forward and deftly draped it over Glint’s exposed shoulders, finally shielding her from the room's lingering stares. "Happy birthday, dear. Consider this your first official adult gift: actual clothing."

Glint let out a massive, shuddering sigh of relief as the warm fabric settled over her scales. "You are officially my favorite aunt," she gasped, finally able to relax her aching muscles and lower the cake to a normal, respectable height.

"Hey!" Lynx protested from the back, leaning off the wall. "I offered moral support!"

"And I offered anxiety!" Sky added helpfully from near the punch bowl.

Mink giggled, darting over to inspect the pastry. "Ooh, is that vanilla frosting? Can we blow out the candles now before Tundra’s glare freezes the flame solid?"

With the sudden threat of exposure finally managed, Glint looked down at the two flickering candles on her cake, offered her mom a genuine, albeit still slightly sheepish smile, and prepared to finally blow out the flames.

Taking a deep breath, Glint carefully set the heavy porcelain plate down onto the center of the wooden display table, the two birthday candles casting a steady glow over the vanilla frosting. But before she could even step back and admire her sudden freedom, Queen Snowfall marched over with a look of critical royal appraisal.

"Oh, no, no, no," Snowfall declared, sweeping her front talons forward. "This won't do at all. It ruins the whole silhouette!"

With a swift yank, Snowfall snatched the plush faux-fur cloak right off her daughter's shoulders. Because Crystal had merely thrown it over Glint’s front in a hurry, the fabric slid away instantly, leaving Glint standing completely unclad in the center of the illuminated hall.

A collective gasp echoed across the room. Glint stood entirely exposed from her chest down, every detail of her young adult physique laid bare to her entire family. Her face burned with a blush so intense it felt hot enough to melt ice. She instinctively went to cover herself but realized with mounting horror that her arms were far too small to cover both her bare chest and everything else all at once.

Well, Glint thought wildly, staring straight ahead while trying not to die of sheer mortification, at least nobody can possibly doubt I'm female. Not that anyone should have needed a visual confirmation to begin with!

Great-Aunt Tundra looked ready to faint on the spot, her jaw practically hit the floorboards, while Aunt Crystal buried her face in her talons to hide a sudden burst of laughter. Aunt Mink just blinked, her mouth formed in a round "O" of utter shock.

"Mom!" Glint squeaked out, her voice cracking as she tried to pull her wings around herself like a makeshift shield. "What are you doing?!"

"It looked sloppy!" Snowfall defended herself, folding the cloak over her arm with absolute confidence. "An IceWing heir doesn't wear a misplaced blanket like a saggy dishcloth. If you're celebrating your grand eighteen, you do it proudly!"

"She's eighteen, Snowfall, not presenting for a medical exam!" Winter groaned, slamming his palm against his forehead and turning completely around to face the back wall.

"I think it's very bold," Lynx offered, snickering uncontrollably behind her talons. "Very organic. Very real."

Glint squeezed her eyes shut, wishing a hole in the floor would open up and swallow her whole. "Can I please just blow out the candles now?" she whimpered, praying no other late arrivals walked through those doors.

This isn't the entire story, but it's A LOT so I just sent the part directly relevant to the artwork. And if I sent it all the way to the end, the final scene with Snowfall speaking a tribute about Glint's late grandmothers, Queen Glacier and Kestrel, it would probably turn this post from comedic/wholesome to tearjerker anyway...

Art ~ Diaxis

Comes with a story, of course.

The minutes dissolved into a breathless haze of heat, shadow, and overwhelming sensation. With every stroke of Listener’s tongue, the telepathic connection between them tightened like a coiled spring, transmitting every spark of pleasure directly from Clearsight’s nerve endings into Listener’s own mind. It was a dizzying, beautiful feedback loop—Listener tasting Clearsight’s sweetness while simultaneously feeling the exact, electric friction of her own touch inside Clearsight’s consciousness.

Clearsight was entirely unanchored now. The terrifying, infinite web of her futuresight had narrowed down to a single, burning point of existence. She couldn't keep quiet; the sheer intensity of the connection demanded an outlet, her voice matching the frantic rush of her thoughts.

"Listener—oh by the moons, Listener," Clearsight gasped aloud, her claws digging deep into the silk blankets beneath her, tearing the fabric. It’s too much, it’s too good, I can’t breathe—

Don't breathe, just feel, Listener’s voice echoed back in her mind, heavy and thick with an answering arousal. Listener shifted her grip, her talons sliding up to cup Clearsight’s hips, holding her steady as her tongue swirled with a deliberate, agonizingly perfect pressure.

"You're doing this on purpose," Clearsight whined, her head thrashing against the pillows. She laughed, a sound that was half-sob and half-sigh, completely helpless under her girlfriend's touch. "I can feel how much you like hearing me like this. You’re—ah!—you’re enjoying this too much!"

I am, Listener confessed without a shred of shame, her thoughts a warm, vibrating hum against Clearsight's psyche. I love your voice. I love knowing exactly what makes you shudder.

By the fourth minute, the playful banter was completely drowned out by a rising, irresistible tide. The stray thoughts in Clearsight's mind began to fragment, melting away into raw, wordless static. Deep in her belly, a heavy, golden coil of tension began to wind tighter and tighter, pulling every nerve in her body taut.

Her breathing hitched, turning into short, desperate pants. Her tail lashed against the mattress, and her wings flared wide, pressing hard against the walls of the guest room.

"Listener, wait—something’s happening," Clearsight choked out, her voice suddenly small, terrified, and ecstatic all at once. "It’s... I’m losing it. I can't hold on to anything."

Listener felt it instantly through the bond—the sudden, immense buildup of energy, the way Clearsight's thoughts were suddenly sparkling like exploding stars. Knowing they were on the precipice of the future they both wanted, Listener didn't slow down. Instead, she pressed harder, her tongue picking up a relentless, rhythmic pace, driving Clearsight straight over the edge.

"Please," Clearsight begged, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets. "Listener, please, I can't—"

Then, the coil snapped.

A sudden, violent tremor rippled through Clearsight's entire frame, starting from the tip of her horns and cascading all the way down to her tailspike. Her back arched completely off the bed, her chest heaving as the shattering, magnificent orgasm tore through her.

"Listener! Listener!"

Clearsight’s scream echoed against the stone walls of the private room, raw and uninhibited, exactly as she had foreseen. Through the telepathic link, a tidal wave of euphoria crashed into Listener’s mind, so intense that Listener gasped aloud, her own body shuddering in sympathy from the sheer force of Clearsight’s climax.

As Clearsight convulsed, her body flooded with a warm, heavy release. Listener didn't pull away for a second. She leaned in closer, accepting the rush of warmth, her tongue eagerly licking through the sweet, slick fluids.

In that moment, a realization burst through Clearsight’s fading, euphoric thoughts, making her let out a breathy, trembling laugh even as tears of pleasure pricked her eyes. The strawberries... the sugar-glazed mangoes at the banquet... Clearsight thought, the puzzle pieces clicking together. You made me eat all of them before we left.

Listener gave a muffled, deeply satisfied purr against her skin, her thoughts radiating a smug, affectionate triumph. I told you I had a plan. And you taste absolutely perfect.

"Never stop," Clearsight wept softly, her voice a broken, needy whisper as she tangled her talons in Listener’s crest, pulling her fiercely against her. "Moons above, Listener, please... don't ever stop."

And Listener did exactly that. She didn't slacken her pace for a single heartbeat, maintaining the steady, rhythmic sweep of her tongue even as the initial, violent crest of Clearsight’s orgasm began to subside into a long, trembling aftershock.

For Clearsight, the continued attention was pure sensory overload. With her defenses entirely shattered and her futuresight completely dark, every single touch felt magnified tenfold. She was entirely at Listener’s mercy, her body twitching helplessly against the sheets as she cried out, her voice a breathless mix of moans and broken, desperate confessions.

"Listener—please, oh gods, it’s too much—you’re going to kill me," Clearsight sobbed out, her head rolling to the side as tears of sheer overwhelm tracked down her dark scales. "I can't—I can't take any more; everything is shaking... Listener, please..."

Through it all, Listener never broke the telepathic connection for a second. She anchored herself deep within Clearsight's mind, drinking in the chaotic, beautiful symphony of her girlfriend's pleasure. She felt the way Clearsight's thoughts were completely saturated with her name, the way the world had narrowed down to just the two of them in this quiet, hidden room.

Just a little longer, my love, Listener’s voice murmured in Clearsight’s mind, a soothing, deeply affectionate caress that contrasted with the relentless warmth of her tongue. Let it all out. I've got you.

Only when Clearsight’s frantic bucking slowly died down into weak, exhausted tremors, and her mind finally drifted into a soft, quiet state of post-orgasmic bliss, did Listener finally relent.

Slowly, deliberately, Listener sat up, shifting her weight back onto her haunches. The heavy scent of Clearsight’s sweet release hung thick in the air between them. Listener let out a long, ragged breath of her own, her eyes dark and heavily hooded as she looked down at the dragoness on the bed. With a slow, wicked swipe of her forked tongue, she licked the glistening, sweet fluid from her snout, savoring the final trace of the sugar-glazed mangoes and strawberries.

Look at you, Listener thought, her mind projecting a wave of intense, fiercely possessive pride directly into Clearsight’s fading consciousness. Absolutely ruined for anyone else. Just mine.

Clearsight lay entirely spent, her wings draped limply over the edges of the mattress, her chest rising and falling in slow, heavy gasps. She opened her eyes just enough to look up, her gaze glassy but filled with an overwhelming devotion as she caught Listener's triumphant thought.

"You are terrible," Clearsight whispered, a weak, breathless smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she reached out a trembling talon toward her girlfriend. "An absolute menace."

Listener chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in her chest as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead lovingly against Clearsight's.

"Maybe," Listener whispered back aloud, her mind radiating nothing but warmth. "But I'm your menace. And I think the future looks pretty perfect from here."

Listener leaned down one last time, her movements slow, deliberate, and filled with a profound, quiet reverence. With a softness that contrasted entirely with the fierce passion from moments before, she pressed her lips gently against Clearsight's aching, swollen scales. It was a final, tender claiming of what was hers—an unspoken vow written in the quiet language of touch.

The moment their scales met, the universe inside their minds detonated.

The telepathic connection, already strained to its absolute limit, exploded into a blinding flash of shared consciousness. For a fraction of a second, Listener wasn't just reading Clearsight's mind; she was Clearsight. She felt the heavy, thrumming afterglow vibrating in Clearsight's bones, the fierce, aching devotion locked in her chest, and the absolute safety Clearsight felt in her embrace.

At the same time, Clearsight’s futuresight—vibrant, chaotic, and newly restored—burst outward in a spectacular supernova of light. The single kiss acted as a prism, fracturing the timeline into a thousand brilliant, beautiful possibilities.

Moons above, Clearsight gasped in her mind, her talons instantly tightening in Listener’s crest as the visions rushed through her.

She didn't just see the next few hours; she saw months, years, decades into the dark. She saw a future where they sat together on a balcony overlooking a peaceful ocean, their wings intertwined as the sun dipped below the horizon. She saw a timeline where they whispered secrets in the library away from the watchful eyes of the tribe, their love a quiet, unbreakable fortress. She saw countless paths where, no matter what storms raged across the continent, this specific warmth—this absolute certainty of each other—remained their anchor.

Listener caught every single glimpse. The sheer magnitude of Clearsight's love, paired with the dazzling beauty of the futures they could build together, crashed into Listener’s psyche with the force of a tidal wave. Tears pricked the corners of Listener's eyes, her thoughts completely overwhelmed by the raw, unfiltered devotion flooding the bond.

I see them too, Listener whispered back through the connection, her thoughts trembling with an emotion so deep it defied words. I see all of them. And I choose you in every single one.

Clearsight let out a broken, ecstatic sob, pulling Listener up by her neck until their snouts collided in a deep, desperate kiss. The palace, the party, the looming shadows of the tribe's destiny—all of it faded into irrelevance. Buried in the quiet sanctuary of the guest room, wrapped in each other's wings, the future was no longer a terrifying monster to be feared. It was a beautiful, endless promise, and it belonged entirely to them.

(Spoiler: Everything went to hell after this because of Darkstalker...)

Art ~ hirothedragon

Long story short:

When Queen Luna burned the Breath of Evil and severed Freedom from the plant in the Abyss, the disembodied ancient dragon’s consciousness anchored into Luna's subconscious to survive, remaining dormant for four years until Luna’s twin pregnancy chemically jolted Freedom awake. Tethered directly to Luna's nervous system, Freedom is a permanent passenger who experiences every physical sensation, taste, pain, pleasure, emotion, and illness Luna endures, sleeping and waking in tandem with her host, and occasionally seizing physical motor control during extreme physical or emotional shocks.

And as this comic shows, that's not always as fun as it sounds for Luna and Freedom.

Based on this scene.

The heavy, humid air of the Lost Continent hung thick in the secluded hollow, but inside Luna’s mind, a completely different kind of storm was raging.

Every sensation was amplified, echoing across the shared neural pathways of her consciousness. For Luna, the moment was an intense rush of affection and physical devotion, a desperate desire to please Swordtail before the looming uncertainty of their future caught up with them. For Freedom, the ancient spirit trapped like a reluctant passenger in Luna’s headspace, it was an unmitigated nightmare.

Luna shifted her weight, her talons scraping softly against the earth as she leaned down, her focus entirely captured by Swordtail’s breathless expression.

Oh, by the hives, you are not actually doing this, Freedom’s voice shrieked inside Luna’s skull, vibrating with a mixture of profound disgust and sheer panic. Stop. Stop right now! I did not survive thousands of years of history just to be subjected to the mechanics of SilkWing courtship!

Luna closed her eyes, trying to block out the intrusive commentary as she enveloped him, her throat working methodically. Be quiet, Freedom, she thought back fiercely, her internal voice snapping with irritation. This is none of your business. Go to sleep or something!

Go to sleep?! Freedom howled, her mental presence thrashing against the boundaries of Luna's mind. I can taste it, Luna! It tastes like... like copper and old sap and regret! The texture is entirely wrong! Why is it warm? Why am I experiencing this?!

Swordtail let out a low, shuddering groan, his wings flaring slightly in the dim light of the hollow. He reached out, his talons gently brushing against Luna's horns, entirely unaware of the cosmic argument happening just centimeters away. "Luna... stars, you're amazing," he breathed, his voice thick with rising passion. "I don't... I don't know how much longer I can hold back."

Luna momentarily pulled away, taking a quick, deep breath. "Don't hold back," she whispered, her eyes shining with warmth as she looked at him. "I want this for you."

I don't want this for him! Freedom screamed, her mental voice reaching a pitch that made Luna’s actual vision blur for a fraction of a second. I am begging you, by whatever gods you dragons worship, put a stop to this! My consciousness is being flooded with your endorphins and it is highly uncomfortable! It feels like my own skin is crawling, except I don't have skin!

Ignoring the frantic phantom writhing in her mind, Luna leaned back down, renewing her rhythm with a fierce, deliberate focus. She wanted to drown out Freedom, wanted to lose herself entirely in the heat of Swordtail's reactions.

Swordtail’s breath hitched violently. His talons gripped the dirt beneath them, his chest heaving as the crest of his pleasure rushed toward him like a tidal wave. "Luna—wait, I'm going to—"

No, no, no, abort mission! Freedom panicked, her thoughts turning into a chaotic jumble of sensory alarm bells. He's shouting! Why is he shouting? That means the bad part is coming! Luna, I am ordering you as an ancient entity, pull away! Just use your hands! Use a leaf! Use anything else!

Luna braced herself, her jaw tightening as she deliberately ignored the pleading voice. She clamped down on her own hesitation, determined to see it through to the end, her love for Swordtail overriding the psychic cacophony in her brain.

Then, the climax hit.

Swordtail arched his back with a loud, breathless cry, his entire body shuddering as he released inside her mouth.

Freedom’s reaction inside Luna’s head was instantaneous and apocalyptic. It wasn't just a voice anymore; it was a white-hot explosion of sensory outrage.

GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF US! Freedom shrieked, a mental sound akin to scraping metal. GAH! It’s everywhere! It’s hot, it’s thick, it’s choking me! I can feel the exact viscosity on the back of our throat! Spit it out, Luna, spit it out right now or I swear I will find a way to hijack your motor functions and barf!

Instead of listening, Luna swallowed, the muscles of her throat moving in a smooth, definitive gulp to accept all of him.

The shared mental link went completely haywire.

YOU SWALLOWED IT?! Freedom’s mind-voice cracked, descending into a state of pure, unadulterated existential horror. YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER! It’s in our stomach now! We are digesting that! I can feel the phantom weight of it! Every single taste bud we share is crying out in agony! It’s like drinking warm, salty glue! Why would any living creature willingly do this? The SilkWings are a failed experiment! The whole world is a mistake!

Luna slowly pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her talon, letting out a soft, satisfied sigh. Inside, she felt a smug sense of victory over the nagging voice, even as Freedom continued to wail and sob dramatically in the corners of her psyche.

Swordtail collapsed back against the dirt, his eyes half-closed, a weak, blissed-out smile on his face. "Wow," he murmured, pulling Luna down against his chest. "That was... unbelievable. Thank you, Luna."

"You're welcome," Luna whispered aloud, nuzzling into his neck, finally letting out a contented breath.

I am going to scrub my soul with sand, Freedom whimpered faintly in the background, her energy entirely spent from the sheer volume of her previous screaming. If you ever do that again, Luna... I am going to figure out how to give us a permanent migraine. I mean it. A permanent one.

Art ~ Diaxis

(See Third Wheel - Page 1 : r/WOF_nsfw for the context on Freedom)

Art ~ hirothedragon

Queen Beryl, Firefly, and mermaid Indigo