#xenoblade fanfiction

[sicahyart]

Weapons concept art I made for a Xenoblade 2 fanfic last year but never posted

Link to said fic if you're curious, but you don't have to read it tbh, I'm writing it mostly for myself, there's no plot I'm just throwing random headcanons in a jar and shaking it to see what it does (tags and summary under the cut)

#xenoblade chronicles 2 #concept art #xenoblade fanfiction #post-game AU #sicahyart #one last you

[ryuarl]

I thought, why not. Here's some advertisement for my crossover fic for a very reduced audience, Xenoblade 2 and Gungrave fans. FULL of spoilers. It heavy leans on the xenoblade side of things since I adapted the Gungraves characters to their world. Just two chapters left for it to be finished too :)

#xenoblade 2 #xc2 #gungrave #crossover #crossover fanfiction #spoilers #ao3 fanfic #no ships included tbh #except for brandon and maria maybe in one flashback thingie but that's a default #mostly writing this for one single friend #hi seal #xenoblade fanfiction

[ravioxhilda]

I’m so pleased to be able to finally announce that the first chapter of my epilogue fanfiction for Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is now available to read! This was a commission I received from a friend that I’ve been working on since November and I’m finally able to show you all! It will be updated every Monday and hopefully with a new piece of fanart to accompany it made by yours truly. Today’s piece is for Chapter 1 (not the preface, the actual Chapter 1) and I hope that you enjoy!

#xenoblade chronicles 3 #xenoblade 3 #xenoblade #xenoblade fanart #taion #eunie #taion xenoblade #eunie xenoblade #taion x eunie #eunie x taion #xenoblade fanfiction #ゼノブレイド3 #my art

[nemaliwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fiorung | Fiora/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles) Characters: Fiorung | Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles), Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles) Additional Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Routine, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mechon Fiorung | Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles), Body Dysphoria, Insecurity Series: Part 22 of Flufftober 2022 Summary:

Fiora worries over the possibility of things between her and Shulk changing. Naturally, he's quick to show her there's nothing to be worried about.

-- 

written for day 22 of @flufftober - prompt: ‘have you heard?’

#flufftober2022 #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade fanfic #xenoblade fanfiction #shulk xenoblade #fiora xenoblade #my fics

[essays-for-breakfast]

The cover for my new fic is here!

Yep, I’m diving head-first into a new fandom with a stupidly ambitious fic. Again. Don’t mind me.

#xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade fanart #xenoblade fanfiction #my art #my writing #personal #what is my blog? #focus what focus? #xenoblade crossover #xc1 #xc2 #drawing with a mouse because I hate myself #self promo #still no artist

[fenixsmutraph]

And that's Chapter 3! In which Shulk puts on his new outfit for Rex. The chapter is accompanied by this fanart. This was basically the original idea I had for the fic, back when it was a simple drabble to provide context for the art so it didn't feel as if I was tossing images into the void.

One more chapter before we get to the naughty stuff, because I got bitten by plotbunnies yet again and ended up writing so much for the second half of this chapter that it ended up becoming its own thing too.

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles 3 (Video Game) Relationships: Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2)/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Hikari | Mythra/Rex, Fiorung | Fiora/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Alvis/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Alvis/Fiorung | Fiora/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles) Characters: Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2), Kazuna (Xenoblade Chronicles 2), Reyn (Xenoblade Chronicles), Fiorung | Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles), Hikari | Mythra Partial List of Additional Tags: Minor Canonical Character(s), Crossdressing, Lingerie, Bisexual Male Character, Demisexual Male Character, Polyamory, Old man yaoi, Missing Scene, PMNR mention, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Angst, Pansexual Character, Autistic Shulk, Backstory, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous Reyn/Shulk mention, Melia/Fiora mention, Mythra/Nia mention, Pyra/Nia mention, Fanart, Digital Art, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Language: English Fic Summary: After having been together for a long time in the Endless Now, Shulk comes up with an idea for how to take his relationship with Rex to the next level.

Please heed the tags and warnings before you read.

#xenoblade #xenoblade fanfic #xenoblade fanfiction #xenoblade 3 #xenoblade 3 future redeemed #future redeemed #shulk #shulk xenoblade #rex xenoblade #shulkrex #rexshulk #shrex #old man yaoi #mythrex

[wall-maria-around-ba-sing-se]

Do the tumblr girlies that had a crush on Shulk during the Smash 4 days because he was a cute blond anime boy know that he’s a DILF now

#Have we forgotten to inform them of this development #xenoblade #smash bros #Shulk #smash 4 #super smash bros #i know y’all are still there #there are still more Shulk X Self-insert Smash Bros Fancfitions than other kinds of xenoblade fanfictions all these years later

[deus-and-the-machina]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles 3 (Video Game), Xenoblade Chronicles Series (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: A (Xenoblade Chronicles 3)/Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2)/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), A (Xenoblade Chronicles 3)/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles) Characters: Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), A (Xenoblade Chronicles 3), Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2) Additional Tags: Guilt, Cuddling & Snuggling, Tenderness, Past Relationship(s), A uses they/it pronouns, Wine, a lot of high entia were flirting with a(lvis) for sure lol Series: Part 2 of Golden Scars Summary:

A had nothing but time nowadays.

“You know, I don’t think I fully comprehended how…boring this would be.” Rex rubbed at his chin.

“It’s been about 40 years.” A offered. “You can always just check Origin’s database for that information.”

 They're still adjusting. It's alright. They'll have plenty more time to adjust

Ough take it. this took so long

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #shulk #A #rex #fanfiction #writing stuff

[trixiwritesfanfic]

as ever, you can also read this work over on Ao3 if you prefer!

Definitely Over Him

‘How’ve you been, Melia?’ Dunban sat opposite the High Entia Empress, his good hand cradling a mug of softly steaming liquid. The other sat listlessly atop the table. Melia had come to learn that this gesture was one of great trust, for Dunban’s injury often made him feel self-conscious and weak.

‘Busy, as usual. Attempts to rebuild have hit so many more hurdles than I had ever expected. Supplies are scarcer than I would like, and a few of our deliveries from the colonies were intercepted before they arrived. It’s been…’ She trailed off, wrapping one of her delicate silver curls around an index finger. Her friend had expressed several times that he felt useless and lonely since his sister had taken off with Shulk, and she was never truly sure how to navigate conversations like this as a result. ‘Challenging, I suppose. I miss being part of a team of equals, rather than a sole figurehead. The weight of responsibility is unbearable sometimes.’

A twinge of discontent twisted at Dunban’s stomach, though he stifled it down, refusing to let the emotion pollute his expression. He had asked, after all.

‘You ought to find someone to share the burden, you know. I know you had hoped that Shulk might—’ He cut himself off as Melia’s delicate fingers rose in silent protest, inviting her to speak with a quizzical arch of an eyebrow.

‘It was a childlike infatuation, nothing more. I no longer feel those things for Shulk… and I ought not to take on a partner simply for the sake of sharing the stresses of duty.’

‘No new Homs or High Entia catch your eye yet?’ He leaned in and asked the question in a conspiratorial, staged whisper, then stared as the Empress’s delicate features flushed. ‘Oh, so there is someone, then? Tell me about him.’

‘Well… He’s one of the strongest men I know, willing to do anything to protect those he loves. He’s unshakably determined and has the heart of a true hero.’ The wings atop her head had begun to flutter the way they often did when she spoke passionately. The Homs hero smiled gently at the display.

‘You really do think the world of him, don’t you? He’s a lucky man, your majesty.’

‘Oh, Dunban! You mustn’t call me that, please! We’re friends, are we not?’ Melia resisted the desire to touch him, for his left hand was in the process of lowering his mug, while the right still sat, still and loveless, upon the crystalline tabletop.

‘I apologise, Melia. Of course we’re friends. I stand by my assessment, however – it’s a very lucky man who is worthy of your affections. You deserve it, truly. You should tell him.’ He placed his mug down and gingerly stretched out his good hand, closing the distance between them. His fingers barely brushed against Melia’s, the gesture meant more as an encouragement than anything, and then they were being clasped within her small, slender hands.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Of course. You’re one of the kindest and most dutiful people I know. It would be a dream for most men to have a wife like you.’

Slowly but surely, the fingers that had entrapped his released him, and instead began the process of slowly interlacing with his. Dunban glanced down at the innocent union of flesh, and then back up at Melia.

‘Would it be a dream for you to have a wife like me, Dunban?’ Her voice was honeysuckle at that moment, delicate yet heady. Her vulnerability drew him in, and her fingers ensnared him, gently holding him to her. The hero of Homs swallowed, remembering the Melia whose crush went unspoken and unaddressed, whose feelings for another had never been known, let alone reciprocated. It was a very different Melia who sat before him now, somewhat more mature and risking hurt for greater reward.

‘Well, I’ve never really given much thought to…’ As he spoke, he could see the light in her eyes beginning to dim. Dunban may be many things, but he was not stupid; he paused and gazed at her searchingly. Something glistened deep in those lovely teal eyes, imploring him to understand. His breath felt as though it had caught in his chest as he reached out to her with his injured hand. ‘Am I right in thinking that I am one of the strongest men you know, Melia?’

She nodded, her gaze slipping downwards, following his clothing down to the roughened, scarred back of his hand. One of her own met it, caressing with a remarkable tenderness across the twisted flesh. It was the first time anyone other than his sister had touched him there without him flinching.

‘You flatter me in your assessment,’ he told her, his expression gravely serious. He hadn’t fielded a confession like this for some time – since before the war.

‘Every word is true, Dunban. I was blinded when we met, but I have learned to see. I see a man who cares, who protects, and who loves passionately beneath the tough exterior.’ She felt as though her whole body was about to melt as she praised him. ‘I see… the man I’ve been falling for, for far longer than I knew.’

Silence settled between them, their fingers still intertwined, Dunban’s good hand large and powerful and hesitantly affectionate, the thumb tracing at the back of Melia’s. At his right, she was the stronger, stabilising his trembling fingers. That small intimacy between the pair spoke louder, even, than her impassioned words, support flowing both ways.

Still, the question did need to be addressed eventually, and Dunban was the one who broke the silence at length.

‘You know I am a short-lived species, Melia? If I am lucky, I will live for another fifty years, perhaps a little longer – but you are likely to live for at least two more centuries.’

‘I know. The High Entia lifespan has proved itself more a curse than a blessing for many of my kin, including my dear departed father. Yet, if you would take me, I would endure such trials.’

‘Take you, huh?’ The solemn, mature man Melia was so used to seemed to melt away at that moment, his lips quirking mischievously. Confidence danced in his roguish grey eyes as he stood abruptly and tugged her towards him across the little table. A momentary shock widened her eyes as he pulled her into his lips and kissed her rather hard, and then she had turned to putty, lashes fluttering closed. The pressure of the edge of the table between them grew rapidly more and more frustrating, and before long the Empress broke the extended kiss.

‘We should move elsewhere,’ she murmured breathlessly, vacating her own seat now and moving to take Dunban by the hand. The scars were tough beneath her fingers, but she still smoothed affection across them.

It turned out that “elsewhere” had necessarily meant leaving Alcamoth entirely, for Melia’s advisors continually returned, rapping on the doors with paperwork to sign, various questions and proposals to deliver, and once or twice to remind her of upcoming meetings. Dunban had worn that same mischievous smirk as he pulled her into one of the undamaged Havres and set a course for the picturesque backdrop of Satorl Marsh, and Melia had simply let him.

Now, however, her back was pushed up against one of the silver-barked trees, the bodice of her little white dress torn open to bare her shapely breasts, and her legs wrapped eagerly around Dunban’s waist. The brunet’s face was buried against her neck, a hot mess of lips, tongue, and teeth leaving their marks. Several possessive pink blotches marred her pale skin, forming the beginnings of a collar of bruises. Dunban’s left hand supported her weight, while the right, still trembling and gentle as a whisper, explored the scant space between the two.

‘You’re shaking,’ he noted, finally drawing back to gaze upon her. Stormy eyes flitted up and down her features, taking in the flush, the little crinkle of pleasure at her brow, and the puffy, tender lips he’d kissed almost raw. ‘Do you need me to stop?’

‘N-no, I want… I want to keep going, I just…’

She might be older than him chronologically, Dunban realised, but her mind was still that of a young adult, an inexperienced one at that. He smiled reassuringly at her and pressed her more firmly back into the tree, initiating another kiss. Softer. Sensual rather than demanding. His tongue traced the outline of her lower lip, gently coaxing for access, and when it was granted, his scarred hand slid into her silvery hair. He trailed his tongue about hers, teaching it to dance in kind, and massaged his fingers soothingly along her scalp.

For several minutes, there was comparative silence as the pair simply drank in the taste of one another; at some point, Melia’s arms twined about his shoulders, drawing him closer, and the pressure of Dunban’s body against hers intensified. Warmth pooled between them, comfortable at first, and then slowly less so.

‘Dunban,’ she whispered in the briefest pause of their lips. ‘I feel…’

‘Empty?’

‘How did you know?’

‘Because you are soaking, Melia.’ He loosened his right hand from her hair and slid it between them, his fingers sliding slickly across the fabric of her underwear. An airy gasp trailed into the air between them, laced with the same soft glow as the air around them.

‘I didn’t know that the High Entia could breathe ether,’ he teased her gently, hitching her higher once more. The bark scraped at the back of her dress and tugged dully at her back, a little pinch of pain in her pleasure, and Melia whimpered needily. ‘Oh?’ He repeated the motion, feeling her weight, the blistering heat that radiated from her sex, and sure enough, the gentle rasp of bark against her back tugged out another frazzled whine. ‘All right, hold on, my pretty little nebula, we’ll get you nice and full…’

It was rather a fumble with his bad hand, loosening his trousers, but with a few moments of patience and several more kisses, he freed himself. Relief, although only momentary, as his arousal hit the air, and then he had ripped a hole in Melia’s underclothes to align their bodies.

Her fingers grasped more tensely at his shoulders, nails digging into flesh, as she felt something rather wide and rounded press at her entrance.

‘Melia?’

‘Please,’ she gasped, her breath still forming those sparkling, ethereal mists with every frantic exhalation.

Dunban groaned against her ear as he pushed into the velvety heat of her sex, forcing himself to ease in gently despite the desperate desire to hilt himself immediately within that addictive embrace. Her body felt endlessly tight, his cock stretching her virgin walls until she felt as though she might split.

‘Fuck… Melia, are you—’

‘Nhh- keep going, Dunban, I want…’ He pulled back, feeling the soft ridges of her insides smothering along the throbbing vein in his length, scarcely able to breathe for the overwhelming sensation, and then slowly but surely pushed his way back in. There was something intrinsically satisfying about the moment their hips touched and his entire length was buried within her; he could feel the glans of his cock pressing gently against her deepest boundaries and feel her every squirm as she tried to egg him on.

‘More? Faster?’

‘Please!’

‘As you wish!’ His hips withdrew far more quickly this time, then pistoned forwards once more; the swift impact was punctuated by the slap of skin against skin, and the arching sounds of their mingled ecstasy. In the absence of pain, and the presence of pleasure, Dunban repeated those actions, the throbbing pillar of flesh disappearing and reappearing rhythmically between Melia’s thighs. He groaned as he watched the motion once more, withdrawing to see the sheen of her lust on his cock, and pushing back inside to the sound of a lewd, wet squish.

‘Oh- oh gods, Dunban…!’

‘That-that’s right, Melia, let it go…’

His right hand pressed between her thighs, smothering her clit as best he could with the calloused pads of his fingers. He could feel her wrapping ever tighter around him as he pushed her up to the edge, and he wanted nothing more than for her to topple right off it. He lurched forwards once more, wrapping his lips about an earlobe, and frantically nibbled and suckled there, battering his hips against hers.

Melia’s voice pitched upwards, and her eyes rolled back in her head as the pleasure finally peaked, sending her muscles into endless erratic contractions and her mind floating into oblivion. There was nothing coherent in that cry; it would have been profoundly satisfying if Dunban hadn’t been viciously chasing his own climax, repeated, animalistic grunts accompanying the sudden amp in pace.

He felt the pressure building, throbbing intensely between his thighs, and then, with no warning, it erupted outwards. Generous ropes of his seed plastered his lover’s walls, and she could feel him twitching and pulsing as he filled her. The warmth of it, the feeling of fullness, and the very real danger that accompanied both were almost enough to set Melia right back off again.

‘Dunban,’ she gasped at last, tracing the fingers of one hand through his dark brown hair. Sweat slicked his brow and clung to his body, and his eyes were insensible with after-sex haze. He slowly slid to the ground, still holding her tightly to him, and pressed a kiss to her temple.

‘Give me a few minutes, and I’ll lick you clean, my little nebula. Stop any awkward questions when you get home.’

‘You want to… lick me?’

‘I want to do quite a bit more than that, but it’ll do for a start.’

‘You Homs are so strange,’ Melia giggled, pressing a kiss to his jaw even as he wrapped his arms around her, trapping her atop him so he could gaze up into her eyes, the same gorgeous hue as the sparkling air around them.

‘That we are, love.’

#xenoblade chronicles #dunban #melia antiqua #the hell is the ship name for this #dunban/melia #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfiction #trixiwritesfanfic #smut #pwp fics #melia xenoblade #melia deserves the world #xenoblade

[umbry-fic]

The Tomorrow With You

Summary: Every year, without fail, their moults arrive.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 1884 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 17/06/2023

Notes: This is a XC1 AU written for Day 1 of Colloyd Week where both Lloyd and Colette are High Entians. They're called the bird people by the Nopons because of the wings on the side of their heads! No XC1 knowledge needed, here's some additional context: Homs are the equivalent of humans in this world, everyone lives on a giant titan called the Bionis and Alcamoth is the city of the High Entians located in Eryth Sea. Pure-blooded High Entians have really long wings (see: Kallian Antiqua) while some Half-Homs have shorter wings (see: Melia Antiqua). Other Half-Homs appear virtually the same as pure-blooded High Entians, and have the same lifespan: three to four centuries. It's my personal headcanon that Half-Homs with shorter wings only live half that, but I'm not sure if this was ever unconfirmed/confirmed by the game... There's a longstanding social stigma towards showing signs of Homs' ancestry (i.e. the shorter wings). High Entians with longer wings have been shown to be able to fly in the game... Once, but still! Therefore they moult, because I say so.

The title is from a track in the XC2 OST! If you know, you know.

~~~

Humming under her breath, she reached for a new patch of year-old feathers on the bottom of Lloyd’s left wing. They were noticeably more worn out, their ends splitting apart and their colour faded from a pale white to a dull grey. Not that she was surprised at the extent of the damage, given how often his wings tended to smack into hard objects from all the shenanigans he got up to on the outskirts of Alcamoth, where the city met the azure waves of Eryth Sea.

Lloyd barely moved when she closed her hand around the bunch, pulling them all out as gently as possible, revealing the follicles beneath, from which new feathers were pushing their way out as best they could. Once a month had passed, they would be fully developed, and his wings would look a lot less naked than they did now.

Just a few days ago, when his moult had only touched the very top of his wings, he had squirmed like a fish caught in a net. She had to continually remind him to stay still, knowing just how much it hurt when feathers were pulled out while she was moving - she’d made that mistake when he’d helped her with her moult a month prior. A burning pain akin to the times she’d accidentally caught her hair in the jamb while shutting the door.

“All done!” she proclaimed, carefully dropping the feathers into the wastebasket that she’d strategically placed in front of the desk before they’d started. Regardless of how neat she had tried to be, there were still some stray feathers scattered about, stark white against the wooden floor. A sole feather was kept safe on the nightstand, tucked beneath a book - a sister to the one Lloyd had kept from her last moult. “That sure took a while.”

He let out a small huff in response, slumping forward on the desk and showing no signs of getting up.

“You’re all tired out, aren’t you?” she muttered, rising from the stool she’d been perched on, stretching. Her back was stiff from sitting for close to an hour, focussed solely on locating every old feather and making sure Lloyd was as comfortable as possible.

She smiled to herself as she found that he had dozed off, eyes shut and shoulders rising and falling peacefully. Her father would be home soon, yet she didn’t quite have the heart to wake him up and send him home. She’d just tell her father that Lloyd needed to recuperate the energy to grow out all his new feathers. It was true, after all.

His wings were so large now. When they’d met, they’d both had tiny stubs that had barely classified as wings. Now, his reached past his shoulders to the middle of his back, and they still had room to grow. They were impressive to gaze upon, and her favourite pastime was to do just that, watching their minute movements that shifted with his mood. How they would droop just slightly when he was feeling down, how they flared out when he was excited, how he shook them out to catch the breeze when they ventured out to the reefs to watch shooting stars light up the night sky, falling from the heavens towards the earth to dissipate into drops of ether. Whenever she had the opportunity to bury her fingers in his plumage and stroke against his down, she could only marvel at how soft it was, rivalling the silken sheets of her bed.

The tips of hers brushed her shoulders. They had remained that length for the past two years, and would grow no further. A permanent marker of her half-Homs blood, setting her apart from everyone else. Practically a glowing signpost that would soon brand her back with a target, beckoning ire.

She didn’t need to be a prophet to predict the future that awaited her - she had witnessed it countless times. The sneers, the derision, the refusal to reach out… They had all been directed at other half-Homs before her very eyes, and even towards her father. All from a small subset of the High Entia, yet the ones who were the most vicious, violently lashing out at others just for being different.

Already, suspicious gazes were being turned on her.

Still, even with that knowledge weighing heavy on her heart, there was one thing that wouldn’t change.

Come the next year, and the next, their moults would arrive again, like clockwork.

And she would help him with his once more, as they had promised to do for each other.

~~~

His touch was painfully gentle against her wings. His actions couldn’t be classified as tugging - it was more like persuading her old feathers to vacate what had been their home for the past year, making way for the new. It made her shiver when he took the time to stroke their sides after a particularly difficult bunch, attempting to soothe the small bout of pain that would flare up. Treating them as something precious, to be treasured and protected, when to her, they were nothing more than a curse.

A sigh travelled through the air, shattering the awkward silence that had descended upon them, his fingers reaching down to trace the scabbed-over cut on her cheek. A souvenir of her encounter with some less than pleasant individuals in the gardens a few days ago, who’d had nothing but barbed insults to fling at her. She’d ignored it, long since used to the tiny shards that would wedge their way under her skin and tear at her - up until they’d dragged Lloyd’s name into it.

“Hey, Colette. Do you hate my wings?”

What…?

“I know it’s because of me that you have it so much worse. They don’t like that I spend so much time with you. If it wasn’t for me…”

It was the ugly truth, that the both of them knew, yet kept hidden under wraps, unwilling to face it.

“I am… Slightly jealous of them,” she admitted. They were everything hers were not. Having reached their full length a few decades ago, they stretched to his waist, covered in feathers so white that they could be blinding in the sun sometimes, powerful enough to propel him into the wide, blue sky.

“But I could never hate them.”

How could she?

They were the same wings she had cried into when she’d had to bury her father, far away from Alcamoth. Watching the casket be lowered into the earth of the Bionis, she’d wondered if it was truly right for a child to have to bury their parent, when said child could pass for a Homs that had barely reached adulthood, if not for her wings. He had embraced her from behind, his wings soft against her cheek as he’d whispered calming words into her ear, promising they could return here whenever she wanted to.

They were the same wings which she had watched grow alongside her own, which she had lovingly tended to every year without fail, so much so that she might know them better than her own. Knew which spots were sensitive to the touch, and knew where best to soothe, so much so that she could groom his wings far more proficiently than she ever could her own.

They were the same wings that had ferried them both into the skies, his arms steadily carrying her, ensuring she would never fall. They’d hovered so close to the starry heavens that, if she were to reach out a hand, she might have been able to scoop up one of the sparkling diamonds that hung in that vast black canvas. Together, they had watched the shooting stars fall, countless of them, slipping through the gaps between her fingers to flit across the peak of Alcamoth, their vantage point allowing them to witness the reflection making the waves of Eryth Sea come alive with a myriad of colours. The wind had ruffled the feathers of her own wings as his continued to flap, keeping them in the air, as she admired the way the starlight played off their snowy white.

And besides, it’s not like she could ever bring herself to hate any part of him.

“If you had to ask me whose wings I hate…” she heaved a sigh, folding her hands in her lap as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “It would be my own.”

It felt wrong to even say it aloud, like she was desecrating the memory of her father. She had never blamed him or the mother she had barely known, yet sometimes even she could not help but wish she had been like some of the other Half-Homs, born with wings that would grow to a length similar to that of a pure-blooded High Entia, with minute differences only the most skilled of gazes could discern. It was tiring, to walk out the door every day, steeling herself to face an unbreachable wall of hatred that bid her shoulders slump more with each day that passed.

“That… I can’t accept,” he whispered, his lips tenderly brushing against the peak of her wings, caring not for their off-white colour or how patchy they were now, the new feathers still young. It made her melt against him - against his steady warmth and the broad wings that draped around her, that would always do their best to protect her. “There’s not a thing I’d change about them. They’re beautiful as they are.”

The unwavering belief in his voice, and the gentle way he handled her wings, always capable of warming her heart, could quiet even the loudest voice that occupied her head, telling her that they were worth nothing. His agile fingers had begun to untangle the complicated knot of emotions resting in her chest - and perhaps one day, he could fully unravel it.

His wings drooped, his head bowing slightly. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you this time.”

“Nonsense,” she whispered, turning to press a kiss of her own to the wings she loved so much, watching a small shudder make its way from top to bottom, feathers quivering slightly. “There’s nothing for you to apologise for. You can’t be there all the time. I’m thankful, for everything you’ve done for me already.”

He’d stood up for her so many times, the expression on his face darker than even the worst thunderstorms that raged over the sea, causing powerful waves to crash into the shore. Enough to make anyone shut their mouths instantly, skulking away in terror.

No matter how bright the flames of indignation on her behalf burned within Lloyd, he was still just one person. He could not change the entirety of the High Entia race overnight. But every action, she was certain, had a small effect in turning the tides.

Perhaps the time when those like her would be treated favourably would not arrive within either of their lifetimes, long as they were. Regardless, just as when she was younger and had fewer scars across her heart, she continued to believe in one constant.

Come tomorrow, and the day after that, and for however long she lived, even if it ended up being only half of Lloyd’s lifespan…

She would spend each day with him.

#fanfiction #one shot #tales of symphonia #colette brunel #lloyd irving #colloyd #colloydweek2023 #day 1: wings #mmm am late but finished it #the images seem to be refusing to work but i give up ;-; #the final piece in the trinity of xenoblade AUs!! haha this made me crack up

[sicahyart]

Bonds of Blood - Chapter 6

Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 Characters: Malos, Haze TW : self-harm

Read on Ao3 - first - previous - next

—

Today, Malos wanted to die. He was laying on his bed, writhing in pain. The burn from his Flesh-Eater core was insufferable. Was that how Jin felt when his body was failing him? He didn’t know how the ice Blade had managed to keep on going for that long.

The Aegis made an attempt to push himself on his feet, wanting to escape from this suffocating little room. His legs immediately refused to support his weight, and he ended up on the floor. He curled up there, his head pounding. The hit didn’t even register in the burn he was feeling inside. His ether lines were showing on his skin, flickering bright red as they tried to regulate the overflowing power ravaging him - in vain.

With a muffled cry, he gathered some of his power in his hand, and, extending his arm, released it in a blast. The explosion took off half of the room, including most of his bed. The Indoline white stone was replaced by a perfect hollow sphere of black glass. A surviving piece of wood, now unrecognizable as whatever furniture it previously was, slid down the smooth slope to rest at the bottom of the hole.

The radius of the blast had been small, much smaller than Malos could do, even without an Artifice, but size wasn’t his aim. He stared at his hand - or rather, where his hand was moments ago. The power concentration in the implosion had been so dense it managed to destroy half of his arm in the process, his patched up old wounds from the Aegis War giving way under the pressure. He never had managed to properly heal that arm without his full core.

Malos closed his eyes, the flickering purple light seeping from his wounds disappearing from his sight and leaving an afterimage on his retinae. His body would soon heal. For now, the familiar pain of a physical injury combined with the release of some of his ether in the blast felt like relief after the previous level of suffering.

The modified Titan control system Amalthus implanted in him had been activated by the release of his power. He pulled on the forced inhibition. He hated the control that thing gave Amalthus over his power, but right now its defense mechanism was what he needed. He gladly took in the anesthetic, deliberately drugging himself on it until he drifted out of consciousness.

—

When he opened his eyes, Malos was once again on a bed, soft mellow sheets under him, bright white ceiling above his head. No trace of obsidian glass. They must have moved him while he was unconscious. He turned his head, scanning the room. It looked exactly like the previous one: small, white, with only a bed and a desk. No guard at the door. Amalthus had stopped bothering with guards after he killed the first few ones, accidentally or not. Nowadays the monks only came to him to take notes on his status and its evolution, like the monstrous curiosity he was as a Flesh-Eater Aegis, leaving him free to wander in between sessions. Amalthus’s direct remote control could access him anywhere anyway, his Driver could just shut him off if he tried to escape from Indol.

Movement caught his eyes in a corner of the room. No guard, but he wasn’t alone. The small silhouette rose from the ground where it was seemingly resting and walked toward him, stopping halfway to bow.

Not fool enough to come too close, eh?

“Good morning, Master Malos. I hope you slept well.”

He wasn’t sure how anyone could sleep well in his situation, but his drugged slumber had been stone deep, which was better than other options he had been familiar with. He sat up, looking at Haze - Fan la Norne.

“Why are you here?”

“We found you injured with your ether entangled, so I stayed to heal you.”

Malos raised his previously missing arm, testing the fingers. Not a trace of it having been blasted off, as predicted. And his ether did feel much better today. No burning. He nodded, thankful.

“Why are you still here? It seems your healing worked perfectly.”

She hesitated for a short second.

“I– I wanted to make sure of it as you awoke.”

Malos stared at her.

“Aw, you were worried about me.”

She took a defensive stance. Malos refrained from smirking at her reaction. He had pushed her off balance by exposing her kindness. She was still wary about him.

“It is my duty to worry about the well-being of those living on the Indoline soil and make sure they are treated as best as possible,” she defended herself.

Darkness veiled Malos’s eyes for a brief moment.

“Keep your savior act for the gullible ones. I don’t need your pity,” he coldly replied.

He turned away from her. It was bad enough to be stuck here, at his Driver’s mercy, disfigured into a monster worse than he already was before. He didn’t need someone to worry about him on top of that. 

The Goddess of the Praetorium seemed to get the message. She bowed one last time, before turning to the door. 

“I– I shall leave you to rest, then. Have a nice day, Master Malos.”

He didn’t answer.

A soft click punctuated her departure as the room sealed itself around the lone Aegis. He let his head hit the wall with a thud and rested it there. He missed the dark metallic structure of the Monoceros. Everything was too bright in Indol. Its apparent purity only served to enhance any flaw into an ugly thing.

He let his mind wander to the Tornan ship, wondering what the others could be up to. Not planning to rescue him, he hoped. He was worthless to them now, he could probably never open the way to the World Tree in this state. Worse, he could be a danger to all of them. He already blasted his own damn arm off. No, better they left him behind. They could ask Mythra for help instead. She could still stay true to her part of the deal and guide them to the Architect. Jin could find a way to wipe out humanity on his own, and with enough luck, blast the abomination Malos had become in the process. They just had to stay away from him and Amalthus. At all costs.

#xenoblade fanfiction #xenoblade chronicles 2 #xbc2 #xc2 #flesh-eater malos #bonds of blood #sicawrites

[whirlwind-workbench]

I've had the idea of a Xenoblade Chronicles 3 x Star Wars: The Clone Wars crossover placed in my head. I can't get it out and I've only had two coherent thoughts so far.

Noah and Mio would be a positive influence on Anakin.

General Grievous would be so goddamn pissed that people from Aionios can dematerialize and summon their weapons back to themselves at will.

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles 3 #xenoblade 3 #crossover #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #pls reblog with more thoughts help #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #noah xenoblade #mio xenoblade #anakin skywalker #general grievous

[ravioxhilda]

Chapter 2 of Till We Find Ourselves Again is now up! This art depicts a scene from it that I was really excited to draw, though it took a lot of effort and time to make the sketch of Eunie look more authentic (Taion is using charcoal to sketch as requested by the client, this art piece in total took eight and a half hours and the sketch was the bulk of that time). I hope you enjoy the chapter and the art!

#xenoblade chronicles 3 #xenoblade 3 #xc3 #xenoblade fanart #xenoblade fanfiction #taion #eunie #nimue #taion xenoblade #eunie xenoblade #nimue xenoblade #taion x eunie #eunie x taion #ゼノブレイド3 #my art

[nemaliwrites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dunban & Fiorung | Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles) Characters: Dunban (Xenoblade Chronicles), Fiorung | Fiora (Xenoblade Chronicles) Additional Tags: Heart-to-Heart, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon, Drabble, Brother-Sister Relationships, Protective Siblings, Blood and Injury, Family Fluff Series: Part 31 of Flufftober 2022, Part 16 of Sketches for a Portrait Summary:

When Fiora leaves her doll behind during a Mechon attack, Dunban will stop at nothing to get it back for her.

Or, a closer look at a Heart-to-Heart.

--

written for day 30 of @flufftober - alt prompt: Winning a Teddy for the Other

#xenoblade chronicles #flufftober2022 #xenoblade fanfic #xenoblade fanfiction #dunban xenoblade #fiora xenoblade #my fics

[frickingnerd]

Xenoblade Chronicles Masterlist

Xenoblade Chronicles 1

➤ Main Characters

➤ Side Characters

Xenoblade Chronicles 2

➤ Party Members

➤ Blades Masterlist

➤ Members of Torna

➤ Torna: The Golden Country

Xenoblade Chronicles 3

➤ Ouroborus

➤ Heroes

➤ Moebius + Side Characters

➤ Future Redeemed

#xenoblade #xenoblade chronicles #xenoblade chronicles de #xenoblade chronicles 1 #xenoblade chronicles 2 #xenoblade chronicles 3 #torna #torna the golden country #shulk #rex #noah #eunie #taion #mio #nia #pyra #mythra #x reader #fanfiction #shulk x reader #reyn #sharla #dunban #melia #fiora #xenogears #xenosaga #xenoblade x reader #xenoblade chronicles x reader #masterlist

[fenixsmutraph]

Welp, it looks like I finally caved and wrote fanfiction for the very first time ever.

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi Fandom: Xenoblade Chronicles 3 (Video Game) Relationships: Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2)/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Hikari | Mythra/Rex Characters: Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Rex (Xenoblade Chronicles 2), Kazuna (Xenoblade Chronicles 2) Partial List of Additional Tags: Minor Canonical Character(s), Crossdressing, Lingerie, Bisexual Male Character, Demisexual Male Character, Polyamory, Light Angst, Old man yaoi, Missing Scene, Shulk/Alvis mention, Shulk/Fiora mention, PMNR mention Language: English Fic Summary: After having been together for a long time in the Endless Now, Shulk comes up with an idea for how to take his relationship with Rex to the next level.

Please heed the tags and warnings before you read.

#xenoblade #xenoblade fanfic #xenoblade fanfiction #xenoblade 3 #xenoblade 3 future redeemed #future redeemed #shulk #shulk xenoblade #rex xenoblade #shulkrex #rexshulk #shrex #old man yaoi