What do you mean Mor rescued Feyre from Spring like a knight in shining armor and they didn't make out passionately when they got back to the Moonstone Palace?
hehehehe, some mirror sex for you, dana, with a little twist. aka mor fingers feyre in front of the ouroboros and gets a little help. written for the sjm sapphic showdown micro-fic game
Prefer Ao3?
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Feyre felt it. A hand, pressed so gently against the inside of her thigh, another, snaking around her waist, pulling her close against soft, smooth skin.
‘Won’t you open your eyes, Feyre?’
Lips then, tacky with red staining, on the juncture between her shoulder and her neck.
‘You’re so beautiful like this, you know. Look.’
And she does. She does because it feels good to do as she’s told. To not have to think and decide, when it seems like all she does these days is decide everything for everyone. For the Court. For her sisters. For Nyx and Rhys and Mor, yes, Mor, too.
She decided she wanted this. A fleeting and now realised thought from so many years ago, when she had been so broken in the moonstone palace, when she had once wanted Mor to stay one of those horrible nights. When she would have given anything to feel good. She had wanted Mor to wear red, like Amarantha wore red, and for her to say all those things she heard in her dreams to her. Still, sometimes, she catches herself in the mirror and sees a girl broken Under the Mountain. But not now. Now Mor is doing as she is ordered, here in the moonstone palace, because it is different and thrilling, and because she is High Lady, so her word is law.
Her word was thus: Stress relief, Mor. That’s all it is.
In the mirror in front of her, she sees herself undone with just a touch. Mor told her that she has seen herself in the Ouroboros, retrieved from the Bone Carver’s cell, once, when she was a child, and what she sees now is not so different. The truth of it does not frighten her. Feyre only sees Mor as she is, and the creature, the beast of scales and fur she saw so many years ago that is herself, purrs contently at her feet.
Mor’s hand—a beautifully kept hand with nails tainted crimson—teases at the apex of her thighs. A noise escapes her. Something desperate. The way she moves her legs just a fraction further apart happens by itself, and she watches as Mor smiles against her skin. Delicately, her thumb comes to circle at the peak of her breast, and the sight of her nipple puckering taut under Mor’s ministrations sends curling heat at the bottom of her stomach.
‘Stop playing,’ she says, voice humiliatingly breathy. ‘I want to have time to—fuck—’ her finger, gods, dips into the slick heat pooling at her cunt ‘—return the favour.’
Mor laughs darkly. Feyre wonders if what Mor sees is something darker still. Something hidden from them all. ‘Plenty of time for that,’ she says. ‘All of this from a few touches. No wonder Rhys is obsessed.’
In response, Feyre just moves Mor’s hand, drawing it against her clit, where she keeps it, languidly toying, never with the same rhythm, as pressure starts to build and build and build, just from watching and the barest stimulation. Mor’s thigh shifts beneath her, tensing up against her backside, adding just the slightest friction for her to cant her hips against.
A jolt wracks through her when she presses her fingers harshly against that bundle of nerves, quickening, and Mor has to hold her still so she doesn’t fall off her lap. The beast starts to slide up her calf, and Feyre almost feels it, the cold shadow licking at her skin. Her breathing starts to come more rapidly, and where she expects Mor to pull away, she doesn’t. They lock eyes in the mirror—Feyre watching Mor watching her, her glossy hair come frizzed, her lips smeared, her cheeks red and her pupils blown wide, focussed between her thighs, where she can feel herself start to clench around nothing at all.
‘Mor—I—’
‘I know. I know.’
But somehow, it isn’t enough. The dam won’t break. The crest won’t come.
She gasps, her fingernails digging divots into Mor’s thigh. ‘I need—Mor—!’
The shock of it at first is brutal. Frigid, testing at her entrance, but it folds into something warm, something tender, something familiar. A touch so alike her own, come to her on lonely nights full of need.
Feyre can scarcely tear her eye away from Mor so debauched and undone, panting into her like she too might finish from just the act of making her do the same, but she does, only to see the beast, herself, with its tongue darting out to taste, curious, but deliberate. Then it settles, breaches, finds that spot within her that has her crying out, breaking the skin of Mor under her hands and staining red the whites of her fingernails with blood, as the coil at the bottom of her stomach breaks clean in two.
Pleasure washes over her so completely that her body seems overcome and made anew for a long, long moment. She feels Mor hold her close though it, still coaxing the last of her orgasm out of her while the beast withdraws to where it can lap at the wetness at her sex.
part two of my abandoned wips featuring sapphic archeron sisters for @sjmprideweek: this is from a fic where feyre and mor are vampires which i was going to write for @sjmromanceweek 2024 (if i remember correctly, it's been a while). the whole story outline is under the cut, enjoy.
the story starts out in the early 1900s in a small town in the US. mor is supposed to enter an arranged marriage to eris vanserra, but when she is left alone for just a moment on the morning of her wedding, she runs away. she nearly makes it, but by the side of the road to the next bigger city she is found and attacked by an older vampire, amarantha. confused and not yet realizing that she is now undead, mor accepts defeat and decides to go back to her family who are still looking for her. she goes to her cousin rhysand's house intending to seek refuge there, and is greeted by her cousin, his brothers and his cousin's girlfriend, feyre. as a newborn vampire mor quickly loses control, killing her cousin and his brothers and turning feyre into a vampire like herself. feyre is devastated at first, and to convince her to accept their new life and mor's affection, mor goes out and bring her the head of her abusive former boyfriend as a first courting gift. feyre accepts. over the years these morbid gifts become their anniversary tradition. while they usually kill mostly for the blood, they give each other one fun kill a year. the first year it is mor's father, the next a vendor who had wronged feyre's father when he was still alive, and so on. they try to find eris too to terrorize him and his family, only to find out the vanserras have been attacked by the same vampire who killed mor and are all dead. the only exception is eris, who was also turned and fled to europe, and one of his younger brothers. mor and feyre leave town when rhysand's younger sister, by now the only surviving member of the family, sends a vampire hunter after them. after this incident, their new goal is finding and killing amarantha, the original vampire who seems to have vanished from the face of the earth. decades later in the 70s they are contacted by eris via his last surviving relative, his grand-nephew lucien, who lets them know that amarantha is back in america. they track her down and find her in new york, where finally they kill her together and feyre gets to present mor with amarantha's ring as a trophy. mor agrees to marry her and they stay forever young and hot and undead together.
i think i only started the prologue on that one, let me know if you want a snippet lol
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IIIIIISSSSSS....you,meghan,asmysecretsantaagainbecauseyouweresoamazing
SURPRISE MY LOVE, IT'S ME! I'm so excited to finally reveal myself to you and I hope you love my gift(s) and that you enjoy it and my see some reflections of what we talked about in the last couple of months @ablogofsapphicpanic
I was so excited to that you are my giftee and I knew it had to be GOOD! Perfect even, 110% if you will and that it also reflects my enjoyment of our anon/ask conversations
LET'S START WITH THE FIRST ONE!! It's a fanart of out dear darlings FEYMOR!!! (Such a fun pairing to create for, let me tell you!)
IT'S FEYMOR AS SHOWGIRLS (don't mind that there are faces, I can't draw them foe the life of me) THIS WAS SO FUN OMG but it's just a little extra gift, my main gift is a 3 part moodboard for you!! Here it is:
it's the sun and moon aesthetic we've talked about AHHHHHH it fits them so well!!!
Again, I really hope both of this is to your liking! I gave my 120% and hopefully it's ENOUGH. You deserve it all, my fellow racoon girlie ❤️
ALSO TO FINISH THIS POST UP
It's been a rough few months for me lately but let me tell you, it was such a joy talking to you about the @acotargiftexchange and Taylor Swift and her new album and creating for you. 💕
@morweekofficial DAY 1: GOLD!! Decided to start the week off with a collage of things I associate with Mor, with a gold-leaning theme - including a thread for her future mate, because she deserves one 💛
Some random notes -
-I imagine her as being part Turkish and part Irish; I imagine the night court as the Ottoman empire, hence the Turkiye shirt, Lokum, and Ottoman inspired shield and slippers
-The pennant is the Sapphic flag! Taking "I prefer females" at face value, it seems like Mor is homoromantic/bisexual, but as a bi woman myself I have a feeling that was just Sarah's way of euphemising her coming out or making it old timey (the words Lesbian/Bi/Gay don't exist in Prythian so it's not like she could just say that lol). Until we get more info idk exactly what she was intended to be, so for now I'm just calling her sapphic :)
