orgyland - Tumblr blog

[orgyland]

Writing Commissions to help us Be Not Homeless

Hi! My name is Natalie, but you might remember me as a dumb idiot who wrote things sometimes. I fell off the face of the earth with some seriously demoralizing Health Shit last fall, but now I’m back with an update. (The update is that we’ve been homeless for around a month now while across the country from my family and support network.)

Okay, that’s the alarming junk out of the way. We’re not in critical physical danger right now, I’ve managed to nab a crappy dayjob and a couple freelance projects while seeking more gainful employment, and I have access to a computer: all good stuff! But we really want out of this situation ASAP and I’ll take any work that can help.

Writing Examples: Short one-shot (<500 words), Medium one-shot (1,700 words), multichapter WIP (4700 words), a ~Serious Short Story~ (2k words)

Rates

I’m going with a rough base rate of 3 cents a word; this is less than half my usual rate for content writing. This works out to $3 for a drabble, $9-15 for a shorter one-shot, etc. (But I won’t charge you if I end up going over what you pay for.)

Will Write:

- Any fandom, probably, but you should ask - NSFW (only if you’re 18+) - Original work/OCs/chronicling your D&D character’s crazy gay exploits - Speaking of D&D, a mock-Ao3 section for your D&D campaign’s hypothetical fandom like this (okay kind of niche but it might be a fun gift for your DM) - Your reflective essay on The Great Gatsby

Will Not Write:

- Noncon (unless it’s like… explicitly a consensual roleplay), incest (including FE14′s “incest”), underage, bestiality, etc. - Erotic fanfiction in Pixar’s Cars (2006) universe. I’m gay and don’t know car parts.

I Need:

- Either an idea of how long you want a piece to be or how much you’d like to spend. - Any specifications. (Tone, style, genre, etc. I mean you can just throw me a prompt and say “go crazy” but I want you to be happy with what you get!) - A 50% deposit to confirm your order. Normally I’d be more lax about this, but I seriously can’t afford to spend hours on a commission and get ghosted.

paypal.me/wncommissions

Even if you can’t commission me, signal boosting would be amazingly helpful, or even just pointing your friend who keeps saying “ugh I have a great idea for a fic, I just need to write it!” my way. Thanks so much, and have a wonderful day. <3

[orgyland]

let's see what u can cook up with Browain + 6 (clothed getting off)

(I kind of timed this around the bonus day for @udobureweek… I hope it’s okay, buddy.)

Nearly a year has passed since Grima’s vanquish, but Owain and Brady find that some wartime habits linger. 

A quarter past midnight, Inigo had been the first to drop out.

“Let it–” Inigo took a deep pull from his waterskin, then poured its remainders over his face, letting it drip off his chin in thin rivulets as he caught his breath. “Let it be said that even in dancing, I don’t take half-measures.”

His words faded through the auditorium’s empty air; he turned to Brady and Owain instead.

“I’m about ready to turn in,” he confessed, his smile self-conscious. “We’ve still an entire season to prepare, and I don’t intend to drop dead before the celebration.”

“Speak for yourself!” boomed Owain–

“Stage voice,” Brady reminded him.

“Speak for yourself,” Owain said at his standard conversational volume. “I could go for the rest of the night!”

Inigo mock-bristled a bit at this as he pulled on his boots.

“That’s all well and good for you,” he said, “but some of us need our beauty rest.”

“Got a lifetime’s worth of catching up to do over here,” said Brady. He stood from his chair and Inigo stood from the floor and Owain was still standing, somehow, just as straight and broad-stanced as he’d stood since they’d met onstage this afternoon. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Inigo’s expression softened – the kind of sympathetic and wistful look Inigo would get more and more these days, when he was about to say something sentimental.

“And you’ve a lifetime to look forward to it, my friend.” Inigo nodded to them both. “Goodnight, you two.”

Brady hid his flush by pretending to busy himself with tightening a string of his violin.

“Yeah, night.”

“No slacking off!” Owain called after their friend as he made his way down the aisle. “Not even in your dreams!”

“Make him sleep, Brady!” Inigo raised a hand goodbye, but didn’t turn his head. They watched him pass through the wide-arched entranceway, and soon after even the echoes of his voice faded, and the sounds of the open-aired night settled back in their absence. Brady knelt to return his instrument to its case.

“A lifetime, huh,” he muttered. “He’s a dewy-eyed loon, but Inigo’s got a point. Let’s turn in, yeah?”

There was no response, and at first Brady figured that Owain hadn’t heard him, lost again in his own world of derring-do that so often consumed his thoughts. But when Brady rose from his crouch, he found Owain not absorbed in his pile of scripts and lyrics, but with his back to Brady, staring up into the high half-moon. Saying nothing, Brady brought up Owain’s side to join him.

“I think it’s starting to sink in,” Owain said. Lamplight from the far walls sharpened the angles of his face, as if a spotlight had veered to capture one of Owain’s rare moments of pensiveness.

Feeling a bit helpless, Brady said, “Yeah?”

“Not just a whole season.” Owain finally turned to him, boring into Brady with wondering eyes. “A whole lifetime. We don’t need to push through our days like there’s no tomorrow.”

“We can take our time,” Brady carefully agreed. “Gods know we’ve earned it.”

“I guess I’d spent so much time running from the end of the world that it’s hard to slow down, you know? I–” Owain caught himself here, like a shepherd’s crook had yanked him back to self-awareness. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Erm, sorry. It really is getting late, huh?”

“Owain.” With only half an idea of how to respond, Brady laid a fumbling hand over Owain’s shoulder, and squeezed. “It’s fine. Time’s got a way of catchin’ up to you.”

Owain laughed feebly. “Yeah. Even with the anniversary so close at hand now, it’s still hard to believe it’s been almost a year now, since…”

He trailed off, as if something had him distracted. When Brady could bring himself to look Owain in the eye, he realized that “something” was him.

“Somethin’ on my face?” he snorted.

“Sorry,” Owain said, and this time the laugh was genuine. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.”

After a lifetime of knowing Owain, first as friends and then as something a little more than that, Brady still could never fully prepare himself for these moments – moments where the Owainisms would give way to shocking earnestness, unguarded and disarming all at once.

A younger Brady – a Brady from what felt like another lifetime – might’ve snorted again, said, “Flattery’ll get ya nowhere, pal.”

Instead, Brady swallowed, and said, “Yeah. Me too.”

For a moment, it seemed like Owain was going to expand on that thought. Something like, “There were so many times I could’ve lost you that I would’ve never imagined us standing here, on an empty stage of some open-air amphitheater, alive enough to talk about it” or “Sometimes I just need to reach out and touch things to make sure they’re real” or even just “It’s probably a good thing I have someone to send me to bed.” Any number of things Brady may or may not have heard before during these many conversations they’ve shared, these whispered late-night affirmations of we are here, this is real, we survived.

But Owain kissed him instead, hesitant at first, and then again, a touch more insistent. One arm clutched his stack of scripts and notes to his chest while the other settled on Brady’s hip, and Brady found himself craning his neck down to kiss him back.

Despite the hour, despite the cloudless cover of midnight, with the cool light of the stars and gaping stillness of the empty chairs around them as their only witness, Brady still felt feverishly exposed as they were, Owain kissing him again and again, walking him backwards until the backs of his calves met his stool and he was forced to sit, still caught in Owain’s embrace. Brady gasped as Owain mouthed his jaw.

“What if someone–”

“What’ll they do?” The question came as a frenzied stutter against Brady’s ear before Owain took his earlobe between his teeth, gently, and sucked. “We’re both used to people talking, right?”

“It ain’t that,” Brady tried to protest, but he found his hand almost unconsciously tracing the curve of Owain’s neck, drawing him in for a heated kiss. They pulled away after a moment, and Brady tried again: “If we got caught, it might be bad news for – our troupe, the Shepherds, the Exalt–”

Owain straightened up, his soft features lined with concern.

“I can – did you want to stop?”

Brady only gave himself a second for his decision, and prayed to Naga it wouldn’t bite both of them in the ass.

“Didn’t say that,” he mumbled, and he tugged at Owain’s collar for another kiss, guiding him down until Owain was straddling his lap, his notes left scattered to the floor beside them. “J-just that we oughta make it quick, y’know.”

Owain’s response was barely verbal, a half-hummed affirmative as he clutched Brady’s shoulders and rocked against a skinny knee. It wasn’t the first time Brady had dandled him like this, and though there’d never been this sort of risk involved, a part of Brady – the same part steadying Owain in his lap, roaming over the tight curve of Owain’s ass – a part of Brady wished he could do more than undress Owain with his eyes. Owain brought a fumbling hand between them, seizing Brady through the loose folds of his robes.

Not much had changed since they were younger; it didn’t take a lot to key each other up to this point of senseless desperation, clinging to each other like a lifeline as Owain rode Brady’s leg in time with the loose stroke through his robe, forming a fist around the swollen outline. Despite the layers of cloth between them, the drag of fabric, the heated silk of his smallclothes against flesh was an almost luxurious sensation, and Brady dimly wondered how long either of them would hold out. Not to be outdone, he slid a palm between Owain’s legs, smoothing it over the front of his trousers.

“Gods, Brady…” Owain started, swallowed, and then tried again. “H-hey.”

“Yeah?” Real nice contribution, Brady, he thought to himself. But when Owain got talkative, it was hard not to get swept up in the moment.

“Talk about what you’d do to me if – what you’d do, if we were in the bedroom.”

Between the exposure of the abandoned stage and open sky and pure urgency in Owain’s voice, it was no wonder that the first word that came out of Brady’s mouth was, “Uh.”

And then, “I’d go slow. Real slow.”

As if from the suggestive power of Brady’s words, the motion of Owain’s hips slowed, almost imperceptibly, and he ground down harder, more deliberately.

“Gods above, Owain, I don’t know, I’d – I’d probably keep you here, just like this.”

Owain’s next breath came out a muted, dry sob as he nodded against Brady’s shoulder.

“Until you can’t stand it anymore.”

“I can’t stand it now,” Owain groaned ruefully. “I want – I want to –”

Brady’s mind filled in the blanks here: he imagined Owain with his trousers yanked down to his knees as he rode Brady to a feverish climax, doubling over with a guttural cry and coming into the silk front of Brady’s robe. He imagined – he imagined Inigo coming back, fetching something he’d forgotten and finding them there fucking on the seat, and he imagined Owain completely heedless, groaning filthy things into Brady’s neck that the acoustics would undoubtedly carry, and jeeze, wasn’t that a godsdamned weird thought to have, but it was just enough to bring Brady to the brink and over it, coming with a whimper into the inside of his smallclothes, slickened now, and trembling under Owain’s slackening grip. He felt Owain stiffen above him, felt the heat and moisture of his breath as Owain stifled a cry into Brady’s shoulder, before going limp.

It was a warm, muted beat before either of them spoke, taking the moment to catch themselves and return to their wits. Owain suddenly felt much heavier on top of him, and the invisible audience surrounding them much more judgmental.

“We’re a real coupla dumbasses, huh,” Brady groaned.

“Sorry.” Brady couldn’t see Owain’s expression from this angle, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “Guess I got caught up in the moment.”

“Yeah. Well.” Brady rolled his head back; cold lights winked down at him, the same night sky from their time on the road, and Brady wondered what’s changed since then if they were still sneaking around to canoodle like the world was gonna end. “That makes two of us.”

Owain shifted in his lap and snorted, before finally rising to his feet. The air in his absence was impossibly cool, and Brady was almost seized by an impulse to pull him back down. But instead, Owain extended his hand.

“I suppose old habits die hard,” he said, his smile gentle. “But it’s alright. We have a whole lifetime, after all.”

[orgyland]

ok can i just say all your lucisev fic is ummmm really hot and ALSO genuinely funny and sweet, like you have an extremely good handle on severa and her whole deal and her dynamic with luci is so believable and good. thank you for these gifts

AHh no thank YOU!!! lucisev is my forever girl, my One My Only 2013 otp and i’d be churning out shit for it regardless but knowing people read said shit gives me So Much Joy. :’)

[orgyland]

ike/soren, #4. ye olde otpe.

“Ike.”

From where he crouched before a fire, Soren watched as the puma slid from Ike’s shoulders to the ground with a thump.

“Sorry, it was the best I could do.”

Soren’s eyes settled over the outline of Ike’s hair, haloed with dull light. Beyond Ike’s bulk, through the mouth of the cave, the sheet gray overcast curdled into stormclouds, black and gravid. Soren should have been glad to see Ike out of the blizzard before it could really begin, but he hadn’t been the one to agree to the fool’s errand that had brought them to this frozen plateau in the first place. A ten day’s travel behind them lay the mill town of Zinna; there, word reached them of a fabled spring across the snowfields, an agent of dubious miracles for all who made its deadly pilgrimage.

(“We’ve gone through worse for less,” was all Ike had said with a shrug, before accepting the researcher’s sizeable advance.)

The carcass was slender with ghost-white fur, and though it looked unlike any large cat Soren had seen before, skinning and cleaning it felt vaguely cannibalistic. Still, there was enough meat there -- eerily pale and tender -- to feed eighteen men, or at least six Ikes. By the time their pot of melted snow came to a boil, the skies had darkened to the color of charcoal, and Soren pressed unconsciously closer into the stiff pelt slung over Ike’s shoulders. Noticing this just a beat too slow, Ike lifted his arm and drew Soren in.

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Ike said. His clothes were damp with sweat and snow, and he carried the unwashed reek of dirt and pine.

Soren turned his face into Ike’s side, and breathed. “Through the night, perhaps.”

“It’s probably late enough that we should just wait it out, huh.”

Soren made a small noise of assent, and a comfortable silence fell over them, the blizzard’s howl dampened by the cover of fallen snow. Only in moments like these did the world feel so empty and enormous to Soren, and he would retreat into arms that united empires and toppled goddesses until the loneliness subsided, and another mood, a shade warmer and more curious, came to replace it.

It began as easily and as comfortably as any routine, like the first lines of a remembered tome. Soren would lean back into the heat of Ike’s chest; thick fingers would curve around Soren’s jaw to tilt it back, while another hand would creep down the front of his collar, unclasping the top button.

“Ike...” The syllable was swallowed in a long, insistent kiss.

“Mm.”

“We,” Soren managed, his mouth hovering inches away from Ike’s, “We shouldn’t squander precious insulation.”

The hand around his jaw slackened, smoothing up against his cheek and forehead.

“You’re so cold, Soren,” Ike said, with a touch of that fond earnestness that never failed to wrench Soren’s guts. “Shouldn’t I share my body heat?”

Coming from anyone else, it would have come off as a tasteless advance. Coming from Ike, the question was unmistakably genuine.

“No one need disrobe for that, Ike,” said Soren. “That’s an old wive’s tale.”

“Huh, really?”

“Here.” Soren ignored him in a vain effort to salvage the mood, turning to face Ike. He slung one arm around Ike’s shoulder, wrapping his pelt around them like a blanket. “This is more efficient.”

Ike’s laughter was a little incredulous, but he followed suit, locking Soren in a close embrace.

“Like this?”

“Mm.” Soren rose to meet Ike with another kiss, his free hand settling on a broad thigh, and then nestling between Ike’s stomach and tunic. (Ike jumped a bit at the touch before settling into it -- Soren must really have been cold.)

And then that same hand trailed down to the front of Ike’s belt, working numb fingers over the clasp until Ike finally breaks their kiss to undo it himself.  Cupping his palm between Ike’s legs, Soren fell again into the same effortless routine from before, comforting, almost grounding: Ike’s grip on his shoulder tightening as his thighs parted, almost imperceptibly; the strain in Ike’s breaths as Soren pressed another kiss to his jaw, and then his ear; the hot flesh stiffening in Soren’s hand as he built a steady rhythm, and then stilled.

“Like this,” he murmured into Ike’s neck. “I want to watch you. Show me exactly how you like it.”

He felt the throb of Ike’s swallow under his tongue, the heat of the flush that spread down to Ike’s chest, and finally Ike’s nod. They both followed the path of Ike’s hand as it enveloped Soren’s, and then replaced it.

Not that Soren didn’t know -- not that he hadn’t known for years -- exactly how Ike liked it, but it was a game of which neither of them tired, where every point of contact, every incidental brush of skin would light a fresh patch of nerves as though they hadn’t felt this a thousand times before. Soren’s eye caught on the motion of Ike’s arm between them, on his unfocused eyes, the pluming clouds of his erratic panting, his parted lips; it was somewhere between Ike’s display and Soren’s whispered encouragements, between the mounting heat in his guts and the taste of white puma on Ike’s breath, that Soren attended to his own need.

They were close enough to chafe each other’s knuckles, to encase their heat and moisture between their pelts -- close enough that it only made sense when Ike seized them both with a tan, broad hand, arrhythmic now, slickened and urgent. Soren tried to dig his fingers in Ike’s shoulder and found layers of pelt; Ike’s forehead was hot and tacky where it pressed against his brand. It wasn’t this that brought Soren to a head, nor was it Ike’s grip closing over his shoulder, or the soundless word-shapes Ike formed with his lips -- but Ike’s voice, when he finally found it, leaning in close to Soren’s ear.

“It’s,” Ike huffed, “It’s okay, Soren. Just like that.”

“Ike--” was all Soren could manage, that broken cry all at once a command, a warning, a question, as he felt himself spasm and come over Ike’s rough fingers. Ike followed moments later with a groan, coming in short, erratic fits, before slowing, and eventually stilling.

The dark winds filled the next silence that followed, as Soren contemplated how they were going to clean themselves. Eventually, he pulled away to dip a cloth in their pot of salted water.

“Uh, I can just wash it off in the snow.”

“Unacceptable,” Soren said. “Your hands would get cold. It defeats the entire purpose.”

“Purpose?” laughed Ike. “I wasn’t thinking about pragmatism, just now.”

“Everything I do is pragmatic,” Soren said, flatly, in what was meant to be a joke, as he wiped off Ike’s hand finger-by-finger. He bristled only a little bit when Ike raised the same hand to his cheek.

“That’s much better,” said Ike, and Soren bowed his head to conceal a smile.

Outside the cave jagged shadows danced in the blizzard fog. The shrill howl of some distant creature caught on the winds. Countless days wandering this wild and hostile world lay before them for a reward in foreign coin, with no way for them to distinguish between a pittance and a fortune, and no reason for them to care. Soren settled back against Ike’s chest, closed his eyes, and let himself be lulled by the storm.

[orgyland]

30 days OTP challenge NSFW!!!version

Cuddles (naked)

Kiss (naked)

First time

Masturbation

Blow job

Clothed getting off

Dressed/naked (half dressed)

Skype sex

Against the wall

Doggy style

Dom/sub

Fingering

Rimming

69

Sweet and passionate

In public place

On the floor

Morning lazy sex

Outdoors, woods, parks, gardens

Your own kink

Shower sex

On the desk

Trying new position

Shy

With toys

Boring sex

Rough, biting, scratch

Role playing

With food

Whatever pleases you

Probably will start from monday :P

[orgyland]

Lucisev fisting... Hell is empty and the Devils are all here

[orgyland]

(small brain) lucina is a boring garbage character (normal brain) lucina is my daughter and my wife (big brain) lucina is a well-rounded and interesting character in her own right (super brain) 1k words of dom lucina sexcanons 

[orgyland]

fuck it, let's do the old standby too. lucisev: 4, 10, 12, 18, 20, 24

below the cut is a goddamn lucisev sex essay, or sexay.

4) Sensitive or insensitive

It doesn’t take much to get Severa worked up in pretty much any sense (which she’s very much aware/self-conscious about) whereas finding/pushing Lucina’s buttons is a bit more tricky, and her tells a bit more subtle. The flipside is it’s easy for Severa to sort of lose herself to it and even at times feel betrayed by her own body/lack of self-control, envying Lucina for her ostensible presence of mind when they’re going at it. But I think I’ve written at least a dozen thousand words about that in fic, so instead a Lucina handcannon: she likes to have her partner bite down, Hard, in Typically Sensitive Places. Severa’s incredulous at first, but when she sees the kind of reactions she can wring out of Lucina she’s happy to oblige. 

10) Preferred positions?

It takes a while for Severa to so much as hint about it (rather than just wait for Lucina’s whims to go her way) but she is super into taking it from behind, be it bent over a desk/bed/garden bench under the cover of darkness, on her hands and knees, against the wall or a tree, whatever. Besides the whole willing surrender of control and trust thing, she’s really keyed up by the element of surprise and also just. The mental stimulation of giving herself to Lucina in her entirety, to do with whatever she will. 

Lucina doesn’t mind that either, but she’s partial to Severa riding her fingers on her lap. (I also agree with this general consensus I’m seeing that Lucina enjoys any position that affords her some control when receiving -- having Severa kneel to give head, mounting her face, etc.)

12) Turn ons

Severa: THE VOICE! HOO! Yes @ everyone on this planet who agrees that Lucina + the Marth persona Totally Does It For Her. Canon tells us she’s also apparently just like, hopelessly turned on by women who can kick her ass, so yeah she totally sees Lucina busting a hole through a wall in the training grounds and thinks “god i wish that were me.” Getting manhandled, though the extent to which they mess around with that is probably her having Lucina like, hoist her up and pin her to a wall. Degradation/humiliation is a thing for her, but I don’t think Lucina would really fuck around with that -- it’d just be something that Severa might occupy herself with privately as an outlet for her massive inferiority complex. (I can see something like that playing more of a role in like, Sevkjelle or Sevnoire, just because I think Noire would understand controlled outlets more, and Kjelle would just be less Concerned in general.) 

Lucina: I heedcayenne her as generally having less of a libido than Severa just generally speaking, even apart from the burden of expectations/their blighted future/forestalling the apocalypse for another timeline/stepping up to the throne of the Exalt in a TFP setting, etc, but I think she discovers a lot about what she likes physically when entering into a relationship with Severa. I never really tried getting this across in fic b/c 1. it’s a non-visual medium and 2. I want people to headcanon whatever body types they want, but Severa is pretty inarguably fuller-figured than Lucina (this isn’t me headcanons, you need look no further than a bizarre line where she’s like AH THANK GOD I DON’T HAVE TINY TITS LIKE MY MOM in the hot springs scramble) and I think that Lucina is pretty enticed by her body in contrast to her own -- maybe a little softer and fleshier, less flat and compact, okay what I’m saying is she likes the ass and titties ass ass and titties. I also think she’s super super into giving praise, but again doesn’t fuck with it given Severa’s obvious discomfort.

18) Dirty talk, sweet nothings, or no talking (or discussing only technicals)

THE WORLD THNEEDS TO KNOW THAT LUCINA FIRE EMBLEM IS THE WORST DIRTY TALKER ON THE PLANET if she’s trying to do it on purpose. It wouldn’t always be on the “you like that you mediocre dunce” level but I don’t think she could loose some profanity without it sounding forced/awkward. When it happens naturally, it’s 100% supereffective on Severa, even if it’s just a really simple command, like “look at me,” or “come for me” or something like that. Orders and gentle encouragement and even just questions like “what do you want me to do to you” absolutely Do It for Severa, whereas she’s inclined to be a bit more colorful -- it doesn’t take much to get her talking, especially when Lucina teases her or has her beg. Despite my earlier nsfw blog shitposting I’m actually 50/50 on Severa calling someone daddy/momma in bed, though. 

I think “sweet nothings”, or sweet somethings definitely play a role here, though, in any setting they’re getting together, but especially in a world with the threat of Grima, their own deaths, and the fate of their future. I’m still super into the idea of TFP lucisev on the night before the final encounter just putting absolutely everything on the table -- like, we might die tomorrow, might as well put it all out there. But even beyond that, I imagine they’re extremely emotionally open/honest with each other in the heat of the moment, and they’re both capable of saying some sappy shit (which honestly mortifies Severa more in the aftermath than if she called Lucina daddy or something.) 

As for technicals, I see them as pretty model Communicators in general. Despite Severa’s melodramatics, she can get over herself long enough to be like, “hey by the way I really like it when you do this” or whatever, and Lucina has no shame when it comes to that stuff. 

20) Rhythm: slow, fast, alternating, etc. Who sets the pace?

Very situational -- in the aforementioned TFP we’re-gonna-die sex context, I think it was pretty rushed and explosive on the whole, but when they’re not fucking in that pressure cooker it depends on who’s got the reins. Lucina likes things agonizingly slow; she likes to draw out every motion, study every reaction, experiment with what works and make it last as long as possible. Severa has the patience of, well , Severa (and this is something that mellows with age) and might progress from whining to demanding to pleading that Lucina please just fuck her into the mattress already, until Lucina finally complies. So the answer here is probably “alternating” -- they only go slowly for as long as Severa can hold out. 

24) What happens after? Cuddling? Make space? Does someone tend to leave right after?

I am absolutely in agreement that they both need some measure of aftercare in the wake of super intense, super emotional sex. If they ever tried something more extreme, especially, I think Lucina would need the reassurance of “hey, I’m okay, that was really good, I loved it and I love you.” In most contexts though I like to think that they use that time to just talk -- about whatever’s going on/weighing on their minds, plans for tomorrow, trading dinner duty for weapons duty, Politics Talk in a TFP setting, etc. They’re both still a valuable confidant to each other, and the space they make for physical intimacy can also include that communication that’s v important for both of them. 

[orgyland]

Lucisev QUACK

awwww yeah

Keep reading

[orgyland]

GUESS WHAT, it's payback time fucker!!!! chieyuki (10, 12, 17, 22, 24), kannaorise (bc if I had to do it so do you - 7, 11, 16, 19, 23), annnnd souyo (3, 5, 18, 21, 24)

*crack’s knuckles* Hear we goe lads

CHIEYUKI

10) Preferred positions?

Look, Chie has certain Expectations of How Things Should Be, especially going into a relationship -- like, does it work the same way if it was a guy? Missionary/lights off/eyes closed? Turns out it’s not a bad position to default to, since she gets to watch Yukiko in anticipation of inevitably fucking something up, or accidentally doing something really, really right. (I agree w/ your general assessment of Yukiko as the more exploratory one, but she’s a romantic at heart -- anything where they’re facing each other, be it in bed or in the shower or in Chie’s lap, as long as she can look her in the eye.)

12) Turn ons

It’s hard not to conclude from canon that the nadeshiko thing does it for Chie, though obviously she knows better than to reduce Yukiko to that Archetype. I think they both bring sensuous qualities to the table that key the other up -- for Chie, maybe the silk of Yukiko’s yukata, the feeling of her hair settling over Chie’s shoulder, freshly-soaped and flushed skin, soft steam; for Yukiko, the comparative roughness of Chie’s fingers, sweat, imperfections, sinew, hardness and exertion. OH AND FISTING AND OTHER LARGE INSERTIONS. 

17) Dom/Sub dynamics? Who’s dom, who’s sub?

Hoo boy. Chie’s definitely got a possessiveness sort of deal going on throughout the game that could very easily come through in sex, and maybe even in other aspects of their relationship. The “hey Yu you think Yukiko’s super cute right, ISN’T IT WEIRD SHE DOESN’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND??!” scene can be read a few ways, but Chie springs almost too eagerly into the role of Yukiko’s gatekeeper/protector/final boss of the Amagi Challenge to not have some carryover there. She might relish in that privilege to an extent (maybe on the milder side buying Yukiko an outfit/lingerie to wear for her, for example, or experimenting with like. Semi roleplay on the more extreme side, like “You wouldn’t let a boy do this to you,” but Yukiko would have to really press her to get to that point.) 

There’s a flipside to that where the roles could very easily reverse, and I think they would were they to ever go down this road. I imagine it takes form as a kind of deference/willingness and eagerness to please Yukiko on Chie’s part -- more emphasis on the “princess” thing and less emphasis on the “prince” thing. 

Also, not necessarily d/s, but they’ve deffos tried spanking. (Chie’s weirded out receiving whereas Yukiko’s more of a fan.)

22) Does one person tend to come first more often or do they switch it up? Does one person have a harder time climaxing? Are there times when they don’t cum?

My handcanyon is that Yukiko is generally more attuned to her own body’s needs, as someone who’s taken more time to explore it on her own, and also that it doesn’t take much for her to get to that point. Chie might make her cum several times before the focus shifts to herself, and even then she still might not cum, or take a while to get there, and then freak out and enter into this feedback loop of Oh God is Yukiko getting tired, Am I Messing This Up, Am I Basically The Worst Partner Ever? It’s something that resolves with time/experience, though Yukiko is still generally first to get there. 

Also, no one gets to cum if Chie accidentally sets off a laughing fit. 

24) What happens after? Cuddling? Make space? Does someone tend to leave right after?

Definitely depends on what point in the relationship they’re at -- after their first time over at the Amagi’s, after the haze and afterglow’s burned off, Chie’s brain probably kicked into “HOW THE FUCK DO I GET OUT OF HERE WITHOUT GETTING CAUGHT AND MURDERED BY THE INN STAFF” stealth mode, like super paranoid that people were somehow gonna read her mind like “you fucked my daughter. Prepare to die.” 

Generally speaking, they both go for a shower together, unless they’re too bone tired to do it -- then it’s falling asleep a sticky, tangled mess while deferring the shower to the morning. 

KANNAORISE

Mothr fuck!

7) Foreplay? A lot or a little?

Early on, a lot a lot a lot. Kanji and Naoto are fucking petrified of their own boners, so getting them to do anything about it is a delicate operation. There is absolutely no “Netflix and chill” for them -- Rise has to basically nudge them past the final threshold where, yup, sex is happening now. Like, phase A “study session” phase B “make out for like an hour” phase C “MAYBE touch someones butt.” Later into the relationship it really depends on what kind of time their schedules allow, especially considering the careers they’re pursuing. Like they’re inmates on death row and their partners’ asses are their last meals. But they still like to draw things out as long as possible when they can. 

11) Exploratory or traditional?

Like, how traditional can you get with this sort of arrangement. I think they end up passively bucking tradition -- not out of any sense of going against “how things should be”, but just to do what feels right for them. Like, I headcanon that Naoto would take a while to explore stuff like insertion/PIV/breastplay (not so hot on the former two, good with the latter) whereas Kanji would like taking it up the ass too much to not make it a habit. Rise’s definitely the most exploratory of the three of them, either way, and much more likely to vocalize an idea or a need of hers and Make It Happen. (Usually phrased as “haven’t you ever thought about...”)

16) Roleplay?

GOD. Rise probably jokingly brings it up like, once, before Naoto earnestly gets into the role of like, sadistic mad scientist sex Nazi. There’s probably some worthwhile catharsis to be found in roleplaying as their Shadows, even if Kanji’s initially skeptical and also does a pretty lousy job of acting 100% uninhibited. (Though he finds it’s easier when he’s persuaded or “forced” into it.) 

19) Kissing preferences during sex

Kanji’s like, painfully romantic. Eyes closed, passionate, long, forceful, grabbing the person by the jaw/the shoulders/the arms and not letting go, etc. Rise’s a little sloppier and a lot more eager, whereas it takes Naoto some time to get out of methodical eyes-open sex detective mode. Eesh.

23) Lust or love sex?

I mean, there IS dumbass hormone-addled lust sex thrown into there, and I think e.g. Naoto is more libidinous than she’s typically portrayed in fanworks, but I otherwise feel like it’s more of a deliberate, cerebral experience most of the time. It’s three people who at one point or another had to wear a mask to deal with a society did wrong by them -- that distrusts them, or condescends them, or shuns them for failing to meet its expectations -- so I imagine sexual intimacy between them is not entirely unlike the intimacy of, say, facing Shadows and all that entails, where you’re making yourself vulnerable and putting so much trust in these people who expect you to do the same. So especially early on, they’re going into that side of their relationship with the necessary care and sensitivity before it’s just Rise getting double-stuffed. 

SOUYO

There’s no way this is gonna get as long as yours

3) Neck, ears, or both

Yosuke’s long, constantly craning neck is good for something. Though in all seriousness I feel like Yosuke need to first get over the kneejerk “this shit’s for girls” reaction for stuff like neck, nipples, etc. He likes having his ear kissed and sucked, but not licked, cuz DUDE THAT’S WEIRD. 

5) Hands or tongue

I feel like both the boys are very, very handsy, Yosuke perhaps moreso (and less serviceable with his tongue than Yu, who’s probably at least had more practice/experience to bring to the table)

18) Dirty talk, sweet nothings, or no talking (or discussing only technicals)

The Fandom Consensus seems to be that Yu is like a dirty talking sex god and that Yosuke gets a MASSIVE boner for praise, so I’m going to take a bold stance and say that Yosuke takes a while to warm up to talking in general, even when it comes to Technical Discussion, and when he does it’s 50% insinuations. The first time they had sex he probably stopped everything to ask if one of them has to “............ you know.” 

21) One round or multiple?

This is pretty situational, but probably starting out Yosuke’s the type who’s just, Spent by the end of things, after kind of putting his all into it every time. I imagine Yu’s concept of a “round” is a lot more fluid, too.

24) What happens after? Cuddling? Make space? Does someone tend to leave right after?

I personally feel like Yosuke is a little more touchy-feely than a lot of people would expect and Yu maybe less so, but I’m firmly in the “it depends” camp. If they were already hanging out, studying, whatever, maybe they wash up and get back to whatever it is they were doing. Bros being bros am I right??

[orgyland]

Because ur taking so long writing me free shit I'm charging interest in the form of asking for HCs for Kjellenoire, prime numbers

I Accept My Fate

2) Any preferences for top/bottom?

Despite Kjelle’s stone butch leanings, it’s just as likely somewhere down the line for Noire to meekly ask for the reins herself -- before they both discover that she’s scary good at taking control of a situation if she wants to be. 

3) Neck, ears, or both

The neck is one of Noire’ sweet spots, which isn’t great for her since she’s not the turtleneck kind of gal, but she’s also more amenable to having those “vulnerable” places touched in general. (It’s hard when you’re busty, okay.) Ears for Kjelle, which I like to think they stumbled on completely by accident -- maybe Noire leaned in close to whisper something while they were going at it and just completely set Kjelle off.

5) Hands or tongue

Kjelle is GREAT with the former, not so much with the latter in pretty much every conceivable way. I think she generally defaults to rougher technique and doesn’t really have the finesse or sensitivity that’s required to really get much use out of a tongue. Noire, on the other hand, is a good bit more versatile -- she’ll take her sweet time with the latter in a slow buildup to the former. 

7) Foreplay? A lot or a little?

This is something that took a bit of trial and error before they both found a happy medium. Noire will luxuriate in the teasing/buildup whereas Kjelle doesn’t really have the patience for extended foreplay sessions -- things escalate to heavier petting and groping for her pretty quickly before they get straight to the point. After a while, Noire sets the pace here. 

11) Exploratory or traditional?

I feel like Kjelle is about as traditional and straightforward as it gets here, whereas Noire might lean more exploratory, but it takes a while to suss it out. It takes some time for them to get to any really CRAZY shit, though (e.g. absofuckinglutely anything involving charms or magic.) 

13) Location turn ons (public, outside, bed only, etc)

Depends on the setting here, but I think semi-public locations carry over as a big fuckin turnon for both of them --  showers or locker room afterhours for a modern AU ala Blindsided, up against a tree just a ways off from camp in canon. 

17) Dom/Sub dynamics? Who’s dom, who’s sub?

In a surprise twist, if/when Noire floats the idea of playing with D/S dynamics, she’s the BFD (Big Fucking Domme). They find the role reversal exhilarating and again, Noire is scary good at taking control and bending people to her will when she has the inkling. 

19) Kissing preferences during sex

Highly situational, but they lean sloppier/more passionate in general -- lots of panting open-mouthed desperate makeouts, all that good teeth/tongue/saliva stuff, Noire getting marked up while she rides Kjelle’s lap, etc. 

23) Lust or love sex?

Both? Depends? They’ve both definitely got Libido and are most certainly In Lust with each other, so I won’t downplay that -- I imagine, especially on Noire’s end, her initial crush for Kjelle is of the “shameful fantasy” variety, and that certainly doesn’t diminish with time, though “love sex” does happen sometime after they enter into a relationship. 

[orgyland]

Sexual Headcanons Ask Meme

Ask me about my OTP in the bedroom~

1) Who tends to initiate? Does it change? Why?

2) Any preferences for top/bottom?

3) Neck, ears, or both

4) Sensitive or insensitive

5) Hands or tongue

6) Teeth or no teeth

7) Foreplay? A lot or a little?

8) Breast play? Ass play?

9) Toys?

10) Preferred positions?

11) Exploratory or traditional?

12) Turn ons

13) Location turn ons (public, outside, bed only, etc)

14) Magic or no magic? To what extent and in what way?

15) Special spells or enchantments?

16) Roleplay?

17) Dom/Sub dynamics? Who’s dom, who’s sub?

18) Dirty talk, sweet nothings, or no talking (or discussing only technicals)

19) Kissing preferences during sex

20) Rhythm: slow, fast, alternating, etc. Who sets the pace?

21) One round or multiple?

22) Does one person tend to come first more often or do they switch it up? Does one person have a harder time climaxing? Are there times when they don’t cum?

23) Lust or love sex?

24) What happens after? Cuddling? Make space? Does someone tend to leave right after?

25) Who falls asleep first?

[orgyland]

I can still protect you

(prompt from here)

[orgyland]

i meant to draw souyo kisses and instead ended up with this artsy bullshit

[orgyland]

I have 5 minutes to kill and only my phone so here's an assortment of awakening chars from best to worst at eating pussy: 1. Laurent probably 2. Cynthia 3. Lucina 4. Owain surprisingly 5. Severa 6. Noire 7. Gerome 8. Yarne 9. Brady 10. Kjelle 11. Inigo Read em and weep boys

[orgyland]

miyaio replied to your post “The worst lucisev headcanon I have? *ignores your muffled cries to...”

i had to unlike this so i could relike it for the addendum

*taking literally any attention i get as encouragement to continue* The Main DIfference between camilla and lucina as doms is the former seizes on any weakness she catches and is very, very deliberate about exploiting them while the latter stumbles ass backwards into the role while still Owning It while severa/selena just pinballs emotionally between humiliation and abject arousal

[orgyland]

water all ur lucina ships?

HOLY SHIT ANON! if it has a hole i probs ship it with luci!