#and also you may get snippets

[glupblorbo]

AU Masterlist

masterlist of my AUs because one (1) homie told me to do so when I asked and that’s the extent of my impulse control

updated 10-15-24

The Owl House

the lightless places inside - Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Series (Longfic), Hunter-centric, Raine-centric, Nonlinear Narrative, Canon Divergence, Cult Recovery, Ace Hunter This one is my babygirl <3 Basically, Belos’s whole “worship the Titan and follow me xoxo” thing never got a whole lot of traction across the Isles, and so at the time this starts, the Emperor’s Coven is just a small cult based on the Tail. Hunter has been raised as the Golden Guard and the Titan’s Hand, and is well aware that he’s a grimwalker. This AU starts a month or two after the coven was captured, with Belos imprisoned and Hunter being sent to Eda’s house to help adapt to normal life after his first placement doesn’t work out. Very heavy focus on religious trauma and guilt, lot of survivor’s guilt stuff too; this fic is very much about healing and how that’s not a linear process and how it can often suck. Plenty of Steve in this one too because his and Hunter’s friendship is everything to me <3 Oh also Hunter’s missing an eye in this.

don’t give my god rubies - Mature, Creator Chose Not to Use Warnings, Modern AU, Hunter-centric, Pittwins, Road Trip, Ace Hunter, Religious trauma out the wazoo My very self-indulgent Mormon!Hunter-raised-in-the-Deep-South AU. Very much a nod to queer youth who grew up in the Southeast US, particularly those who grew up in very conservative and very religious environments—very much the story I would’ve wanted to read as a kid. Pretty much all of my works hc Hunter as trans, but it’s very much a core theme of this one as Hunter is coming to terms with his identity outside of Philip’s scheme of influence. Also Philip is running for Sheriff (again), which...yeah. Hunter has A Time in this one !

take the dreams down and stick them in storage - Teen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Multi-chapter, Hunter-centric, Luz-centric, Pittwins, Canon Divergence AKA the one where Belos doesn’t possess Hunter and the Hexsquad doesn’t find the rebus, so everyone ends up stuck in the Human Realm. Hunter is...surprisingly okay with this. Everyone else is...less okay. It’s not a fun time.

and all turns to silver glass - Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Longfic, Hunter-centric, Alternating POVs, Medieval Fantasy, Hunter & Amity Besties Agenda, Aroace Hunter, Lumity, On Hold This one’s going to be LONG, just warning y’all in advance. The gist of the plot is that Hunter, as Belos’s best knight, is well-aware there’s a fair chance he’ll never be more than the emperor’s hound, and he’s more than okay with that, even if his best friend, a necromancer prodigy by the name of Amity Blight, and the renegade seer he was sent to bring in for questioning recently try to convince him otherwise. But something is brewing beneath the city as his uncle’s heralded Day of Unity draws nearer, and Hunter will have to figure out where his priorities really lie before it’s too late.

the sound of the demon calling you home - Teen, Creator Chose Not to Use Warnings, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Longfic, Hunter-centric, Hunter has Religious OCD, On Hold In essence, this fic is basically Caleb stuck in Hunter’s mind and offering his commentary on various shit our bad but sad boy finds himself going through—except this commentary definitely impacts his actions and thus canon. Feat.: Hunter’s abject terror of Hooty, Belos being a bitch, Hunter having panic attacks, Caleb being a little bit of a dick before character growth, and more!

the devil’s after both of us - Teen, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Series, Hunter-centric, Raine-centric, Star Wars Universe, Droid!Flapjack In this one, Hunter’s served as the Grand Inquisitor over his emperor’s Inquisitorius for a while now, and he’s currently trying to track down a Jedi by the name of Eda Clawthorne. Meanwhile, Raine Whispers is trying to keep hold of what little remains of their identity after being forced into a new role as the Third Sister’s apprentice—a task that becomes increasingly more difficult as the Empire’s hold on the galaxy tightens to a chokehold.

slip away to stardust - WIP, Unpublished, Roleswap AU, Hunter goes to the Human Realm, Belos Finds Luz First, Hunter Gets a Hug for once Hunter succeeds in securing the Owl Lady’s portal—at least, he does until it opens and he ends up in the woods of a place called Connecticut and entrenched in the terrifying ordeal of being known via therapy. Luz, meanwhile, hopes her teacher will accept “getting stuck in a portal fantasy world and trying to help the human emperor also get home” as an excuse to turn her essay in late.

someone has to be the tomb-keeper - Teen, Series, Hunter-centric, Belos-centric, Sigilless!Hunter, Fuck ton of religious imagery Here, Belos didn’t brand Hunter with the coven sigil, as he believed Hunter would be of better use as an unwitting spy once his inevitable betrayal took place—and, of course, this saves the grimwalker most like Caleb from the fate of the other witches. This changes both everything, and nothing.

Star Wars

small birds where their hearts should be - Teen, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Longfic, Sabine Wren-centric, Leia Organa-centric, Ezra Bridger-centric, Dark, Emperor Vader, Sith Leia Organa, Sith Luke Skywalker Ezra is the last of the Jedi. Because of a series of mistakes on a recent extraction, he attracts the attention of the emperor’s daughter, who’s been told to find the last of the Jedi and bring them home if she wishes to regain her honor and standing in the imperial court. Sabine, meanwhile, is tired of the constant fleeing from the Empire and is ready to make a final stand—except she wasn’t expecting to find herself feeling anything but hatred for the Sith hunting her, Tristan, and Ezra down, much less pity.

the inversion of selves, the different skin - Teen, Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Series, Werewolf AU, Star Wars Universe, Tristan Wren-centric, Sabine Wren-centric, Ghost Crew Sabine and Tristan Wren are me’gaan’ade, moonchosen, and can shift into the form of wolves. After escaping his capture by Gar Saxon, Tristan reunites with his sister and has to not only contend with his complex emotions regarding her and his trauma from time with Saxon, but also decide how much trust he’s willing to instill in Sabine’s new companions.

death, twice: first the body and then the heart - WIP, Unpublished, Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Trizra, Faerie AU, Ghost Crew, Dark, Ezra Stays Alive Wrong Ezra left for Faerie six years ago in order to find his mentor, Kanan. He’s returned now—though he’s done so empty-handed. He’s left contending with not only his own guilt over the failure and the disappointed expectations from Hera and Jacen, but also trying to mend his relationship with Tristan who, like everyone else, did his best to move on once it seemed certain Ezra wouldn’t be coming home. And even if he’s back physically, the Ezra who left isn’t the same who returned, not in the slightest.

a person-shaped emptiness - Mature, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Trizra, Imperial AU, Inquisitor!Ezra, Dark, Slow Burn but not really Tristan and Ezra grew up attending the imperial academy together, bonding quickly—and maybe more than the average cadet—despite the Empire’s best wishes. One morning, Tristan wakes to find Ezra gone without a trace, and no one will even acknowledge his existence. Years later, Ezra slips back into Tristan’s quiet life as an ensign—and he refuses to acknowledge what happened, too.

No Need for Open Roads - Mature, Series, Western AU, Werewolf AU, Historical AU, Ghost Crew, Kanera, Co-written with @lessattitudemorealtitude Ezra Bridger and Sabine Wren find a home in grizzled Pony Express stationmaster Kanan Jarrus, and all is well—until a war brings a halt to the mail and danger to their doorstep. Now, Kanan has to dredge up old memories and make unexpected allies if he wants to bring Ezra home alive.

The Sheridan Tapes

post tenebrus lux - Teen, No Archive Warnings Apply, TOH Universe, Sam Bailey-centric, Bill Tyler-centric, Ned Leroux-centric, Grimwalker!Sam Bailey, Basilisk!Ned Leroux, Human!Anna Sheridan Sam Bailey, fresh out of a job now that the emperor has decided he’s better off dead than serving as the Golden Guard, finds himself turning to the very witches he previously condemned in order to stay alive. Meanwhile, Bill Tyler, Captain of the God-king’s Coven, finds himself digging into secrets better left alone as someone who is very much Not Sam Bailey appears in the palace a week later claiming to be the Golden Guard.

you can think about forgiveness later - Teen, Major Character Death, Series, Star Wars Universe, Sam Bailey-centric, Bill Tyler-centric, Mandalorian!Maria Sol, Mercenary!Sam Bailey, Annamaria Sam Bailey is hired, along with partner Bill Tyler, to tie up loose ends on a disappearance of one Anna Sheridan. The only issue is that the group hiring them apparently pose a significant conflict of interest to Sam.

[lemonrin-i]

Ace the type of guy to run away from his feelings but the moment someone other than him hits on you he's running straight back to you

[walkingstackofbooks]

Trying to clear out my drafts and have come across multiple barely-started thoughts that I'd forgotten about but also do want to finish 😅

this one's so devastating it needs to be a fic you don't understand no I can't elaborate

hell if I can connect these thoughts but it'll come to me someday probably I hope

I think this might have been the one that ended up with them sounding Julian and sucking him off at the same time but I actually can't remember ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

This sounds just SO familiar, did I actually end up finishing this post elsewhere or have I just imagined many variations on a theme? Idk

Finally, one I can delete! Yeah I have no idea what this meant either XD

[karamell-sweetz]

fairy rui. *hands this to you and walks away ominously*

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

I just learned that my favourite recording of All That is in fact on youtube!

[theoldhereafter]

Scene: a blast to the past with a noble girl and a foreign boy having fun in a meadow

content warning: they kiss, and just a bit of blood

He is stark against the cornflowers that surround him. Cerys stands on the hillside, watching his form lying amidst the meadow of blue and white; his lips are moving, perhaps singing a lullaby as he often does when his head is resting on her lap—but he does not at the moment; he lies on a bed of grass, and she cannot hear. That is a crime against her, she thinks, and people may fault her for such childish selfishness, but Cerys has long become an unreasonable woman when it comes to him.

She is running down to him before she knows it, dress billowing, and she is calling out his name, his sweet name—

“Cerys!” he answers in return, jolting up in surprise, and then his mouth is stretched into a beaming smile as he opens his arms, catching as she stumbles into his embrace.

They roll a few paces from his original spot. Their laughter is loud and unrestrained, with petals tickling her cheeks as Cerys gazes up at him, his shadow cast over her face.

“Why, good morning,” greets Cerys, biting on her lip to not grin widely. Her hands on his shoulder lower and caress down his sleeves, then resting on his wrists that are beside her head. “What were you talking about just earlier?”

He leans closer. “Must I tell you?” says her love, before pecking her forehead and turning over to lay on his back, still close for their arms to be pressed together.

Cerys huffs at that. “You should!” she shouts, aghast he thinks otherwise. “You must!”

He laughs softer this time. “Dearheart, I was just singing.”

“Singing? Singing what?” She moves to rest on her side, palms stacked over each other to rest her head on. He’s taken to twirling a lock of her dark hair between two fingers.

Cerys wants him to kiss it, so she tells him so.

“It’s a song from my hometown,” he answers after giving her three kisses: first on the hair already in his hand, second on her nose, and third on her forehead again. “My mother used to sing it whenever the springtime began, to entice good fortune and blessings into your life she said, so I wanted to try it for myself.”

Cerys hums in acknowledgment, feeling the beat of her heart echo throughout her bones. His voice is a blessing itself to the ears, but to hear him sing? Oh, it is the birdsong they describe wafting the air of the Garden for certain. She inches closer to him, and he lays down his arm for her to rest on instead of her palms. His face is all she can see now, and she drinks it in greedily; his pale eyes especially. They can see the world and beyond that yet still choose her to focus on, to lay with among the flowers. What a beautiful man she has found for herself. What a man she wishes to lock inside her ribs and simply have forevermore.

“Sing for me?” whispers Cerys, already knowing he will indulge her as he often— always—does.

It takes a moment, but he starts quietly, and she could have missed the beginning entirely if not for their closeness. The words he speaks are none that she recognizes or understands. It reminds Cerys of how he was born far from where they are now, how the land he marvels at in his dreams is not the same as hers.

It tickles her ears pink. She wants to whisk him farther away, to hide him from even the sun and the moon and his precious stars.

Cerys shuts her eyes instead, to let his voice lull her towards more reasonable thoughts.

He goes on for minutes, arms drawing her closer and closer until they embrace her tightly. He stops to speak directly over her ear for a second, informing her before he turns on his back and moves her to lay over him. She can hear his heartbeat now, louder than her own. He continues to sing, and Cerys does not want to be anywhere else.

She loves him, she is certain. From the moment Cerys laid eyes on that boy in the nearby forest years ago, when she sought solace in the greens of nature, and him in the blues of the skies.

She can still hear his first words to her so clearly, his foreign tongue undeniable then.

Who died?

It startled her as a child; his frankness, his staring, his unusual appearance that contrasted everyone she had met until him. But she had glanced down at her outfit—a mourning cloak embroidered with her favorite flowers—and remembered her manners. My brother is receiving his pyrexial rites, she had answered.

He spoke again, softer this time. What’s a pyrexial rite?

He interested her, so she closed the distance between them and sat beside him in the tree shade. Their first conversation lasted hours until the stars appeared dancing across the night sky, and because of him, she had forgotten the heaviness in her chest from knowing she would never see her younger brother again, even in the Hereafter. She was alone when her family found her; she had ushered him to hide when the first shout caught her ear, and they had promised to meet again if the chance arose.

Now here they are, in each other’s embrace, and Cerys thinks.

“I will spend this spring with you,” she declares, raising her head to lock eyes with him.

He pauses, the birds chirping above. “But your family,” is all he says.

“Like always, they will return once Father is demanded back at Central, but I will ask to remain here.” Cerys grins. “With you.” She punctuates this by leaning to kiss him.

They have kissed before, certainly. A group of Cardinal flowers bore witness to their first by the lake. Cerys can still recall the sweet way he had taken her lips, and it comes as a pleasant surprise when this one is different from their previous kisses; it is fervent and passionate, moreso than usual, and she wants to devour him, to ravish him down into the grass so that her words leave a mark: she will be staying with him regardless of her family’s wishes.

She pats his shoulder once, twice, and he sweeps her into a hold as he stands. Their chance to breathe is small before their lips are locked together once more, fiery and eager and loving and yearning all at the same time. She has a tight grip on his pale hair, other hand pressed on his nape. He cradles her like she is something precious beyond belief.

They break apart only when their lungs have started to ache, rosy-cheeked and shameless in their delight. “What if they disagree?” he asks, ever so careful since he was a boy.

Cerys feels more alive than ever, and her hand on his nape urges him forward, knocking their foreheads together. She says this like a vow: “I will run away. We will marry.”

Every word that leaves her mouth is an ultimatum, an absolute nobody can deny her—not her family, not the other houses, not even him. But Cerys needs not to ask him either way, because his eyes are teary, looking at her with love that can replace the stars in the sky.

He lets her down to her feet with a gentle peck, searches through the meadow, and plucks one cornflower among the rest. A blue one; Cerys thinks of her own eyes seeing its color.

“I’ll get you a better, grander ring than this when I can,” he whispers, taking her hand and tries his best to tie it around her finger. The sight is adorable, making her heart race and cheeks flush a deeper red.

“A ring is nothing as long as I have you,” says Cerys, but she lets him finish, watches him snap the excess stem off, and marvels at the sensation of it on her skin. A crudely-done ring, from a cornflower picked simply from this meadow—but one he chose and shaped to fit, one he places a delicate kiss upon like engraving it with a promise.

She cannot restrain herself now. It has been on her mind for a while now, and she indulges herself.

Cerys grabs his hand, his ring finger to be exact, and brings it to her mouth. She hears his breath hitch when she places it inside, and stares at his face, his eyes, scrutinizing every inch of him.

And then she bites down, hard, until blood lands on her tongue and she licks it up.

There.

He is lovely, lovelier than any rose, than any flower in full springtime bloom, looking utterly bewildered and starved all at once. Cerys wants to imprint this particular expression of his into her mind, to lock it up so only she gets to ever witness it. She concedes to intertwining their hands instead, his blood staining the petals of the cornflower.

We are married in the way that matters.

[crimsongrimoire]

in celebration of boothill coming home he gets to be dommed for once 🎉

[maaxverstappen]

giiirl we need the new chapter of help me hold on to you, but i know that life gets in the way and you should take all the time you need to write it but i just love this fic so much i can’t wait for the update 🩷🩷

I’m trying i promise :’) i worked on it today!! for some reason i’ve just been really struggling with the next arc in the story. I’m not sure how to progress it adequately and make it not. boring? but been working on a scene today :)

little snippet under the cut for being so patient

The elevator to his floor is right at the back of the lobby, so Max makes a move for it; ready to fall into bed.

He manages to squeeze into the almost-closing doors like a scene from a movie and finds there is only one other person in the elevator.

“Charles,” Max remarks with surprise. His fingers twitch by his side in an effort to not reach out and make sure Charles is really there. Still not used to seeing him in person like this, be able to count the freckles on his face like this.

Charles looks up from his phone. “Oh, hi.” He doesn’t look phased at all, goes right back to typing on his phone.

“Do you mind pressing the 34th floor for me?” Max asks, not wanting to lean over into Charles’ personal space too much to do it himself.

“Hm?” Charles asks, still engrossed in his phone, barely glancing over at Max.

Max points at the buttons. “34th floor please, if you can.”

Charles puts his phone in his back pocket and presses the button with a nod and a forced smile.

The lift starts moving surely but slowly. There’s no music which makes it all both better and worse. Max feels his heart rate rise with every floor they pass, wanting to say something.

[theinfinitedivides]

SRK Birthday Celebration Tag Game let's fucking go

i've been tagged directly by at least three people ( @justshahrukhkhan, @loumandivorce and @pixlerelish, ty, ily) and i've got a little more than two hours until the 2nd's up on my end but i'm squeezing in to make it in time. happy birthday to the one and only chammak challo of my life amen

SRK movie you've lost track of how many times you've watched it?

OSO, Dilwale and Chennai Express my beloveds. save me my beloveds i will literally put them on in the background and still tune in halfway that's how much i love them (even CE. even her)

Favorite entry scene?

i would have said Raees or K3G a couple years ago but that was before Jawan happened. that was before Jawan happened and i got programmed into sitting up straight whenever i hear the first three notes of that Maasi theme

Is there a particular scene or character that lives rent free in your head?

Aman Mathur from KHNH i will love you until the end of time. don't speak to me about the scene on the walkway by the bay with Naina or i will become dead to the world thanks. close second is Don from the franchise bc really. Don ko pakadna mushkil hi nahi namumkin hai your faves could never—Pathaan and Jawan tie for third i like my men bisexual slightly insane and pathetic wet cat adjacent ty. cheating a bit with a bonus addition but Amar from Dil Se does live rent free in my head like the rest of these roles but i cannot rank him bc you can't rank that brand of crazy like that. you can't rank life-changing routine upheaving shit like that. if there was no other film in the world except Dil Se i would still thrive and flourish bc of the fuckery he did with that. full stop

Got a favorite musical number?

the long of it: anything from his films that are on this fucking playlist. do with that what you will. the short of it: split between the entire K3G soundtrack, Marjaani and Chaiyya Chaiyya

If you could ask SRK one question, what would it be?

i need to crawl around inside that man's mind. live there for a bit. pry the details for his next role out of him so i can get started on fics y'all know how it is HOWEVER. if i had to ask just one and there would be no repercussions: must every role of yours recently be so bisexual. my brother are you even trying otherwise sksksksk

BONUS ROUND: Attach a favorite pic

bringing these Not Ramaiya Vastavaiya screenshots back. you're welcome

tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do this within the what. how many hours you have left on your end if it isn't the 3rd yet alas

[snarkythewoecrow]

okay, so writing update, i have been doing it! headway is being made on the hob/dream fic, you know, the one with all the tropes and hurt/comfort and shit

words are definitely flowing and shit is tightening up, coming together, the mess i puked into these various docs is now congealing into something pretty fucking great if i say so myself

working through older sections atm and trimming and shaping things to tell the story, now that the word vomit phase is mostly over

(i tend to make the absolutely most disgusting mess in my docs, all the ideas, before coming back later and trimming the overgrown shit into something pretty)

And speaking of pretty things, take a look at the a bit of the second draft of the Dream meeting with Calliope again scene, seeking her advice regarding how to help Hob.

@thefangirloutof-time @kydrogendragon @buckybeardreams @psychiccatpanda

No warnings for this snippet

Her presence in the Dreaming once again ached—their love had left a bruise that would likely linger until the last dreamer stepped into the sunless lands.

Fiddler’s Green seemed uniquely suited for this reunion, as a place they’d forgotten themselves, and occasionally, neglected to remember, sentient and prone to modest notions—his creation had once even lengthened the soft grass just to better conceal their bodies.

Calliope stood beneath a lone tree, an oddly placed bald cypress standing tall on a knoll amongst the wildflowers, entirely out of place in the scenery. The enormous base more a cluster of roots than simple trunk, each tendril pressing against the next before diving into the earth. Above, Spanish moss swayed from its branches in great heaping clumps, while its feathery, frond-like foliage stretched to the sun on irregular limbs.

His eyes followed her delicate fingers as they skimmed over the hills and valleys of the base that nearly dwarfed her.

And no, the symbolism hadn’t been lost on him—that of all things that could have appeared beside her here, it would be an ancient cypress that had taken root--a species that carried many meanings—most markedly, a symbol of death and the grief that followed it.

It was no secret why she stood within its graces now, as it reached for the skies of the Dreaming, weeping for them both.

The sight had an old--yet never forgotten--not even for a moment--pain lodging in his lungs, making his breath hitch, forcing his jaw to clamp tight before he cleared his throat, choosing not to face those particular memories right then.

Seeming to have heard him, Calliope turned. Some of the tension easing in his chest at seeing the light had returned to her eyes.

Then with a soft, indulgent shake of the head, she smiled. Just as stunning as always.

[malachitezmeyka]

A few of the various iterations of Suiren in our Multiverse of Madness and the different things she is into, comprised into one (not so) neat list for my beloved @katkastrofa as part 1 of her birthday present (intended to be used as reference for a certain something 🤭👀 and also bc she said please when she reblogged my earlier post and who am I to say no to that? :D)

(Alternatively: Tumblr please don’t nerf me I beg you)

Under the cut for comfort reasons :’)

SotRL/post-SotRL – At first uses sex as an outlet for her frustrations, wanting it fast, rough and with as little feelings involved as possible. Merciless biter, loves attention on her tits, has a raging praise kink but would rather die than admit it. Touch her hair and you die (at first. After some time she’s okay with it being stroked or brushed out of the way, especially while she’s sucking Kuvira off). Generally rather sensitive and vocal so is very fun to play with, but she doesn’t let herself lean into it fully, and thus is extremely unaware of her submissive side. After she starts healing from her trauma and trusting Kuvira more, on the other hand… 🤭 She is still very much capable of domming or topping of Kuvira so desires, but for the most part she can’t get enough of letting herself be guided into the subspace and giving her brain a little break, willing handing Kuvira the control and trusting that she will be taken good care of. Discovers her oral fixation and leans into the praise kink, as well as riding Kuvira’s strap, having her tits fucked, imagining Kuvira being able to actually come down her throat or inside her, general BDSM stuff, bondage, light petplay, dehumanisation, ownership and edging. So, so much edging 🤤. It gets to a point when she’s not even too keen on coming at all, not wanting the experience to end. But she does love her orgasms, especially when she’s nice and full, so sooner or later she will end up begging for it anyway :D I very much might have missed something, but in my defence, there really is a lot to her

UtOS – Somehow, the complete opposite to SotRL Suiren. Extremely dominant, loves being in control and isn’t too fond of giving it up. Essentially, power bottom to Kuvira’s service top, though she does also love having Kuvira writhe on her water tendrils. Can and will use her bloodbending to her advantage once she finds out Kuvira likes being overstimulated, and heavily leans into the possessiveness kink by calling Kuvira hers as often as possible. Drops orders and light degradation as easily as breathing, and while she does enjoy being praised, it’s to a much, much lesser degree than her SotRL counterpart. Less being called a good girl and more being thanked for giving it to Kuvira so well. A bit of a sadist and somehow even more of a biter than usual. All in all… Grandma Ikiaq is a bad influence 😁

Ultimate AU – Looks like the dominance depends on the bloodbending rather than not being raised by Haya, because we’re back to something more closely resembling SotRL. Except here, Suiren is an impossible tease. Every Suiren knows full well that she’s attractive, but this is the only one who flaunts it quite as openly, wearing almost exclusively low cut dresses, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walks, always squinting at Kuvira in that seductive way… all that good stuff. And as a result of being a tease, she’s also one hell of a brat just begging to be tamed. She’s known nothing but freedom her whole life, so there’s little quite as enticing as the idea of having control forcibly taken from her. She likes being restrained after Kuvira gets sick of being teased and snaps, and fucked as roughly and thoroughly as possible. Most likely is incredible at giving tit fucks while her dress is still mostly on, just with her tits popped out. Is okay with having her hair pulled as long as it’s done lightly. The praise kink also isn’t that prominent, she’s much more into soft cuddles – in which Kuvira is *not allowed* to move as if a cat had fallen asleep in her lap – as a form of aftercare

MoA – I don’t have much on her bc this AU is rather underdeveloped, but she’s essentially pre-discovery-of-submissiveness SotRL Suiren, but even more repressed because the load she carried for her entire life was doubled and having to dispose of her abuser’s body after she was killed by her 15yo sister did absolute fucking wonders for her mental state. A bit more on the controlling side, preferring to take charge. Very into angry sex bordering on hatefucking, will ride Kuvira like her life depends on it to the point of hurt. Insults and death threats take the place of normal well adjusted flirting. Is nowhere near ready to be indulged in her even more well hidden praise kink, would probably claw Kuvira’s eyes out if she ever tried. Perhaps she should get a taste of Kuvira’s newly formed spirit cock and maybe she’ll calm down

Sacrifice AU – Easily the most vanilla out of all her counterparts. After her near death experience she’s extremely averse to all manners of being restrained, whether with metal cuffs or simply being held down. Her wrists are particularly sensitive, never to be grabbed. She doesn’t like being manhandled in any way, she gets to pick the position, and she picks something that will allow her to be on top and not trapped under Kuvira. Prefers grinding or humping to anything being inside her, be it fingers or a cock. Still just as obsessed with having her tits sucked, but it has to be lighter, not enough to leave bruises. She doesn’t like seeing bruises on herself. Praise kink to the max, anything to drown out the voices always shouting obscenities at her. Only while being called beautiful and desirable as she rides out her orgasm, clinging to Kuvira like a lifeline, does she actually feel alive again

Small rarely talked about bonus, Avatar Suiren AU – Living as an all powerful being with not one but two Great Spirits residing inside her gets very tiring very easily. Luckily, a certain someone is always willing to help her mind to drift away and her to lose herself in pleasure for a few hours. A bit more into degradation than praise. In those moments, she isn’t the Avatar, the master of all four elements, saviour of the world, and the memories of lives that came before her as well as those annoying Spirit kites’ constant bickering all fade away. No, in those moments she is simply Suiren, Kuvira’s Suiren, her beloved good girl. And nothing else could possibly matter

[curiosity-killed]

wip wednesday

“Well, don’t you look dashing, Mr. Vash,” Milly declares. The hat’s broad enough to cast a shadow over most his face, curving right through his smile. Under its shade, his eyes seem even brighter than usual, like windows to the sun-seared sky behind him. He laughs, sharp little teeth showing at the edges. “Thank you kindly, Miss Thompson,” he says, teasing just a little, as he sweeps the hat off and plops it onto her head, “but I think you look even more handsome in it.” Milly smiles. Meryl doesn’t like being called handsome, even after Vash explained it used to be gender neutral—she’d chased him around the campfire, notebook raised in a warlike fashion, while he yelped and pleaded and managed to constantly stay only just barely out of her range. They’d only stopped when Nick had commented on Vash being pretty if the girls were handsome. Vash had yipped in surprise and stopped short, flushing pink and—just as Nick said—pretty. Milly likes it, though. She likes being handsome in the modern and archaic sense. It makes her heart squeeze all tight and warm when Vash acts all gallant and when he’s sweet and sincere without overthinking himself in knots about it.

tECHnically WIP implies a work in progress and I haven't actually worked on this in many months but ANYWAY

[inkblackorchid]

So, I still intend to stick to my idea of at least working on the current WIP fic (the sequel to Fields of Arcadia) until I've finished the first major portion of it before posting anything. But, as I'm working on it again now, I wondered about something, so I figured, why not ask around:

To be clear the snippets would be as non-spoilery as possible since this fic is super plot-heavy, and I doubt I'd post many, just a bite here and there to keep people entertained while I continue working on it.

[crossbackpoke-check]

a doc of omega yamo being a nuisance, you say?

well…

[unproduciblesmackdown]

barely alternate version of that billions 4x12 scene

[hplonesomeart]

Old record player spin my beloved <3