#ficlet compilation

[frankenjoly]

"Don't" prompts compilation

BSD

fitzpoe/fitz & poe + “why don’t you stay here”

kunichuuzai + “you don’t have to go”

fyozai + “don’t be a stranger”

nanago + “i don’t have a family anymore”

fukumori +“ we don't think alike”

fukumori + “don't act like you care” & “you don't have to be on your own” & “you don't have to go”

fukumori + “don’t listen to them” & “i don’t trust many people”

sskk + “i don’t trust many people”

YUUMORI

sherliam + “you don’t have to a hero”

KUSURIYA

jinmao + “don't you trust me?”

[starrystevie]

it’s after everything is said and done, after max wakes up with cloudy eyes and eddie is no longer a wanted man and will feels like he’s alone in his skin again, that steve starts the headcount. he brushes it off as an old habit from his basketball days. says that as the captain, he had to do counts at their away games to make sure everyone got back on the bus, so it's become ingrained in him. everyone knows that the real reason is more complicated than that with monsters and darkness, but no one dares open that can of worms.

there’s a grand total of 12 of them: the six big kids and the six not so little anymore kids. he starts in height order because it's easier that way, goes from shortest to tallest and always counts himself last because he tends to forget about himself if he was in the fray of it.

but then eddie leaves. the government comes in with their less than generous hush money and hands it over to him seemingly out of the blue, but it's just what he needs to get the hell out of dodge. out of a town that still spits venom at him as he walks down the street because a cleared name doesn't mean a cleared verdict in the eyes of the public. he packs up with wayne and they move without telling any of the party where they're going because they want a fresh start without the ties of murder and split ceilings following them.

the count goes down to 11. steve skips from jonathan to argyle without a certain curly head in between them and tries to ignore the way his heart pulls painfully at the fact that whatever eddie was to him, whatever he was starting to be for eddie, is over just as fast as it barely started.

it's an eerily cold april evening when the count goes down to 10. the bonfire in steve's backyard has dwindled down to smokey embers as they pack up for the night with sticky marshmallow fingers and sugar highs that leave them laughing loudly. steve watches as everyone makes their way up to the house, all 10 of them-

steve recounts. gets to 10 and pokes himself hard in the chest to make sure he doesn't forget himself as the last and his lungs feel painfully too tight once he realizes that there's a different curly head missing from his count.

"henderson," he whispers, his head whipping around to find dustin in the moonlight. he looks from the tree line up to the road and feels his heart pick up to twice the beats it should be. "where did... henderson?!"

everyone stops. steve can feel them all looking at him, but all he can see is decay floating through the air and bats circling overhead and vines crawling over his feet and he hears the screams echoing in his head that have plagued him since he pulled eddie out from that haunted place.

"dustin!" steve's throat is raw as he screams, his lungs burning as he runs around the expanse of his backyard, and he tries so fucking hard not to panic but his count was 11 when the started and he'll be damned if it won't end with 11.

there's a commotion in the house that he writes off as the rest of the group trying to figure out why steve's running around but when he listens closely, it sounds happy. he can hear cheers and he has to force himself not to get angry because how could they be happy that dustin is missing but then it's-

"-eddie?"

the two curly heads that have messed with his count are standing in steve's doorway with matching grins. eddie's hand is laying flat on dustin's head, shaking him around the tiniest bit before detaching and pulling steve into a hug. it feels like something unfurling in steve's too tight chest as he melts into the smell, the comfort, the warmth that is eddie, his own shaking arms snaking around his waist to ground himself.

"am i too late to join the party?" eddie whispers next to steve's ear and it makes a choked off laugh escape him. "sorry for scaring you, stevie, dustin was just the first one to open the door. didn't mean to mess up your count."

there are questions that need to be asked like how dustin managed to sneak inside to get the door without steve noticing and how he even heard the knocking in the first place and what eddie is doing back in hawkins and if he can up his count to a dozen for good again, but those questions can wait.

he presses his head to eddie's collarbone, takes in a deep breath to steady himself, and smiles when he counts to 12 in his head.

[varpusvaras]

Still thinking about this morning's little thought...about the post order 66 au...and how Fox has to learn how to walk again. And how Leia is also learning how to walk. So they're doing it together. Taking little steps. And later when they both can stay on their feet Leia will hold onto Fox's hand and they will walk on their own speed. And she is so, so supportive of her Buir and always cheering on him and they bond over their little walks.

[sophiasharp]

Brain has been rotting out of its skull these last few days thinking about Copia’s initially rocky relationship with the ghouls, particularly about how he made it so much worse to start with.

Cause I gotta imagine that he was only put officially in charge of Ghost after the deaths of the other Papas, so that’s gonna leave him a bit of a mess for a bit, especially because he suddenly doesn’t know who the hell he can trust anymore now that his main support system just got completely wiped out.

(They were the strongest men he knew, they may have played dumb to the Clergy but each of them were so much smarter than anyone gave them credit for, he’d been so sure they would be here till the Abbey itself crumbled, and yet now he’s here. He, the useless bastard younger brother, has lived to see another era, and they haven’t, and it just isn’t fucking fair-)

So when he’s initially put in charge of the ghouls, he endeavors to be detached- to be what he knows Imperator would want from him for fear that even the slightest provocation could send his house of cards crumbling down, as it were. He referred to them only as “ghoul,” was straight and to the point during rehearsal, and then avoided them completely in everyday life if it could be helped.

And then there is the photo shoot. You know, the one with the severed head.

(It was a threat, it was an open fucking threat, not just to him but to anyone else left that could be considered close to him, it was a threat to play his part like they wanted or otherwise join his predecessors in death, it was a warning to his few remaining friends to stay away lest they prove “distracting” enough to the new band leader that they must be dealt with, because why else would it be Terzo’s real head? Why else would they go to the trouble of decapitating a dead man for a magazine cover?)

The day after, Copia gets so much worse. He can’t talk to anyone about the stress he’s under, can’t safely relieve his frustrations and anxiety to anyone else so he takes it out on the ghouls. He becomes hyper critical off their performances. So what if Rain is still learning the bass? So what if Cumulus has yet to fully acclimate to the surface? So what if Dew only regained consciousness from his element change a week ago and is still dealing with the loss of almost his entire pack? So what if they’re all grieving the same way he is? It’s no excuse. They need to be better.

(Don’t they know? Don’t they know the razor’s edge they all were balancing on? Don’t they know they’re all one mistake away from being cast aside? From being sent to the pit without any warning? From having their existence be deemed not worth of the air they breathed? Don’t they know? Don’t they?)

That day the tension snaps between Copia and the ghouls. It’s one unneeded criticism too many and they all just. Leave. They’ve had enough of thinly veiled threats for one day, never mind the rest of the week. It serves as a wake-up call for Copia, makes him realize just how badly he’d fucked up taking his aggression out on the band mates he’s likely to be spending his entire musical career with.

He regroups after that. Endeavors to apologize. To explain himself, if they’d let him. He knew nothing would mend the rift he’d created immediately, but the sooner he admitted his wrongdoings, the sooner he could start over with them, prove he was more than just a cowardly dog hiding at Imperator’s heels.

So he goes to the ghoul den- not for the first time overall, but certainly for the first time since Terzo was dragged off stage all those months ago -and tries to talk to the ghouls, the majority of whom were huddled around the coffee table in front of the couch.

Mountain gets up to meet him in the doorway, and before Copia can get so much as a syllable out, a pamphlet is being thrust into his chest with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

No, not a pamphlet, he realizes as his heart sinks. A magazine. One with a hauntingly familiar image on the cover.

(He still feels the cold blood through his gloves, still feels the weight of the head in his arms, the bright lights of the camera flash seared into his brain even a day later. He wants to scream. To cry. To vomit. To say or do anything and yet it’s as if he’s rooted in place, only able to look at that damn photo and his brother’s dull, lightless eyes-)

“We may be under your leadership, but If you ever try to hurt my family again, they will never find your body. I’d suggest you leave now before I lose my patience.”

[anqelbean]

🌹

"As he watched him trip on his own feet while attempting a sword form all alone in the woods, Luo Binghe added “clumsy” to the list."

[rainbowcaleb]

on a personal note, nice round number on ao3 now

[theflyingfeeling]

eyyyyyyy look what I wrote because I was umm... bored and procrastinating. yeah, definitely only that 🙂

additional tags: angst and smut of some kind (more the implied kind that the explicit one)

enjoy~

~

The last time they did it was supposed to be the last time. Then again, so was the time before that, and the time before that (and the time before that as well). Yet, here they were once again, in a dark hotel room, connected at the mouth, hands on each other's cocks.

It had all started on a particularly wintery night in early November, in the sauna of Aleksi's summer cottage, of all places. They had stayed behind, under cover of being too fascinated by the first snow falling softly behind the fogged-up window, while the others had gone on to crack beers and to destroy the remains of a birthday cake by the fireplace in the next room. When Olli had turned his head back to Aleksi – to comment on the beauty of the scenery or something else, Olli no longer remembered – his breath had caught in his throat when he had found Aleksi's blue eyes looking up at his as if he had just been caught doing something he was not supposed to, his red lips parted, and his hand a little too obvious in its effort to cover the... situation between his legs.

Despite the nearly eighty degrees surrounding them, Olli's skin had been on goosebumps and his breath trembling as he had struggled to control where his eyes travelled, to order them back up to Aleksi's face (as if that would've helped) or literally anywhere else. The thoughts of wrong and we shouldn't swarming in Olli's dizzy head had been muted the second Aleksi's warm hand had rested on Olli's bare thigh, its intentions as clear as the thin frozen cover on the lake by the cottage, and verily, Olli had gasped as if he had fallen through the ice into the frigid water when the hand had reached its destination in between Olli's legs at last. What had happened after that, Olli had blamed on the heat of the moment as much as that of the sauna, and despite having spent the entire rest of the song-writing weekend summoning up the memory of Aleksi's hand gripping his cock, of his own hand being covered in white pearls of Aleksi's cum, of Aleksi's lips on his lips and neck and fingers, he had still kept telling himself it wouldn't happen again.

He simply wouldn't allow it.

That was, until he had. In his defence, it's not like Aleksi had done much to prevent it either.

At least that time the tragedy had occurred far away from home, on their short trip to Germany for a promotion event for their record label – which didn't make it any less immoral, of course, no matter how many times Olli had tried convincing himself that whatever happens in Berlin, stays in Berlin.

No, that's Vegas, Niko had helpfully reminded him when Olli had slurred his worldly wisdom, to which he had kept hanging on ever since that night in a doomed attempt to assure himself that the fact it happened in a foreign country would somehow justify what they had done.

He had almost believed it too: almost, meaning not even a little bit, and that was essentially why Olli's articulation had been so thick and sloppy, although he had found no help for his despair in the bottom of his pint glass either. No matter where he had looked, his eyes had kept travelling back to Aleksi's, staring at him from the other end of the table, equally miserable as his own; no matter what Olli had tried to busy his mind with, his thoughts had always returned to the way, back in their hotel room, Aleksi had pushed him against the mattress and Olli had let him, or the way Olli had slid his hand under Aleksi's sweatshirt and inside his trousers and Aleksi had done nothing to stop him.

If drowning himself in some overpriced German airport beer had helped him get rid of the crippling guilt, he probably would've done that on the spot. Funnily enough, if only Aleksi had given him the word in the form of a nudge against his feet under the table or a gentle brush of his hand while waiting for boarding to start, Olli would've dragged him to the nearest restroom in a heartbeat, just to hear Aleksi panting in his ear again, to feel his hot, heavy breathing against his neck. Instead, they had sat in silence for the whole flight back home, their thighs warm and firm against each other, forced to touch in the limited space of the ecomony class, a constant, intolerable reminder of their sins from the other night.

Please don't let it go that far next time, he would've said to Aleksi, had he been sober and half as brave as he wished to be. Please don't let there be 'next time'. You've always been the stronger one of us.

Alas, Olli never knew if his pleas would've made any difference, for when he had travelled back to Helsinki two weeks later, he had found himself craving for the man's touch just as much as he had ever since they had gotten off that plane from Berlin, and judging by how tight Aleksi had been gripping on to the collar of Olli's shirt, Olli could tell he shared the sentiment.

There had been a new kind of desperation to their touches and to their silent moans as they had rubbed against each other on the couch in Aleksi's basement studio. Maybe it was because they hadn't spoken for days. Maybe it was because Aleksi's girlfriend was upstairs.

When Aleksi had come all over Olli's stomach, his eyes had welled with hopeless tears. Olli wanted to brush them away, but he had feared that would've only made matters worse.

"Fuck. Sorry," Aleksi had whispered with a trembling breath before getting off him. Olli hadn't needed to ask what Aleksi had been apologizing for; he understood it was complicated without Aleksi telling him so. He understood it perfectly well, in fact, having rolled around in bed night after night for the past weeks dwelling on the matter himself, cautious not to awaken the sleeping figure next to him.

The true tragedy was that by then, they had gone far past the point of a simple apology to be any good.

The next day, soaking his sorrows in a bottle of gin on Joonas' sofa, he had told his oldest childhood friend everything, because they didn't keep secrets between them and, well, because Joonas had asked.

"So it's true, huh? Fuck, I thought it was just Niko making things up again. You know, like that time he was convinced Joel had hooked up with that Italian guy, what's-his-name."

(Olli hadn't had the heart to tell him that Joel had, very much indeed, gotten intimate with that Italian guy, a little too loud in a cleaning closet with the door a little too open on a backstage corridor next to a vending machine that had eaten Olli's money once upon a time in Rotterdam, but that was a conversation for another drunken Thursday.)

"So, umm... does... does she know?"

Olli had shaken his head.

"Are you gonna tell her?"

Olli had been too busy practically inhaling the liquor in his bottle to answer. Not that he would've had an answer ready anyway.

"Is it... I mean... It's just sex, right? There's... nothing more to it, is there?"

That time, Olli had wanted to answer. He really, really had. But whatever would've come out of his mouth instead of the broken sob he had let out once the comforting burn of the alcohol had left his throat would've been a terrible lie, so maybe it was best he hadn't.

"Oh, Olli..." Joonas had whispered into his hair as he had wept against the soft, pink fabric of Joonas' hoodie. It had been little comfort to ease his pain, but at least he hadn't been back at Aleksi's making more poor judgements.

There'd be more opportunities for that, Olli was to find out, although they had agreed with solemn nods and lumps in their throats that they'd have to put an end to it before it would be too late. It seemed, however, that neither of them wanted to acknowledge it had been too late the very moment they had first kissed in Aleksi's sauna that snowy November night; Olli could only speak for himself, of course, but once he had had a taste of something he had until then only fantasized about – for longer than he was willing to admit – he had known there was no coming back. One look at Aleksi's lustful gaze on him when they pleasured each other was the only reassurement for Olli to believe he felt the same.

Lust. Olli could fool himself and say that was all that it was: carnal desire, instinctive, uncontrollable somehow, but was it lust you felt when your daily thoughts became consumed by this one person, their smell, their taste, their voice that even came to lure you in your sleep?

Olli knew what it was. He didn't dare say the word out loud though, ignoring how it was just another way to fool himself.

Come their spring tour, and Olli's head felt too heavy with thoughts to carry on his aching shoulders. Aleksi's tongue managed to empty it momentarily the way it emptied his balls, but sooner rather than later, his head was full of mixed messages again: ones that told him he had nothing but misery coming for him if he let this go on, others that asked him how something that felt so world-shatteringly good and right could be so wrong.

Maybe it's not wrong, Olli's post-handjob brain tried to reason, like it did each time these days. He knew he'd come to his senses (or what was left of them) soon after, but every time they had gotten together on that tour – which was almost every other night if they weren't too sleep-deprived or too busy hating themselves – Olli found himself believing it more and more. Maybe it's not wrong and we're just the victims of our circumstances, of having met other people before we met each other. Maybe we're right to touch and crave each other the way we do and it's the universe that's fucked us over for never even giving us a fair chance to see if we could be something.

And Olli really, truly wanted the two of them to be something; something more than hasty handjobs in backstage bathrooms or quiet, needy blowjobs at 3 AM in the tour van; something more than a mere fraction of the life they could never have, at least not without breaking some hearts first.

Olli almost felt his own shattering into pieces when Aleksi spoke to him in the dark of their hotel room.

"This is the last time. It has to be."

Perhaps it would've been more convincing if Aleksi's thumb hadn't been stroking his collarbone, or if he hadn't felt the softness of Aleksi's lips on his shoulder.

"I know," he said anyway, like he always did. He stared up at the ceiling until his eyes began to burn, so he closed them and focused on the gentle touch just above his chest. He set his breathing to the rhythm of Aleksi's thumb, forcing away the dread and regret, hopefully until morning.

"I just..." Aleksi paused to huff out a short exhale, with an undertone of frustration or perhaps even anger, "I just— I wish it... didn't have to be."

Olli opened his eyes again, only to find the ceiling even more blurry than the last time he had stared at it.

"I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish I could... I wish we could..."

Olli couldn't force himself to speak and tell Aleksi that he, too, wished their situation was different, to tell him just how much he wanted him, so he silenced Aleksi with his lips and showed him.

He showed him, not with his words, but with the way his hands gently pushed Aleksi to his back. He showed him with his tongue that explored the insides of Aleksi's mouth and the smooth skin below his jawline. He showed him with his fingers that wrapped around Aleksi's erection, stroking his length while Olli's other fingers prepared him. He showed him with the way he moved inside him, slowly, tenderly, then faster, more desperate, until he lost himself completely in the feeling of Aleksi.

Aleksi's breaths came out short and fast, and Olli knew he was close. His thrust became more determined, less for his own pleasure than that of the man trembling under him when his orgasm hit him. Only then Olli allowed himself to let go as well, coming inside Aleksi, filling him, taking him.

Aleksi's eyes were glassy as he sunk his hand into Olli's hair and brought him in for a kiss to make up for all the ones that were cut short while they had been gasping for air. In those moments, when they were both weak and vulnerable, it was too easy to imagine this was exactly how it was supposed to be, or, the very least, where Olli wanted to be: their their bodies having become one with him still inside Aleksi, their sweaty skin sticking together, their tongues working in sync. He hoped it spoke more than any words he had left unsaid.

I want this. I want you.

[thedragonagelesbian]

@hexblooddruid replied to your post “sosiel failing the protection ritual check the...”:

Oh…okay 🥺

​here's the full in-game text of the scene.................. after i finish the post-reclaiming drezen check-in wip that i started today, i'm going to write my version of it, featuring more sosiel being in awe of & inspired by kyr's aeon powers & more kyr reassuring sosiel as he respects his wishes to destroy the poem & also becoming a spluttering mess at the end

[more-better-words]

Writing Patterns

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Tagged by @strangenewwords! Thank you!

(Every last one of these is ENT, Trip/T'Pol. I may have a problem 😅)

(Yes, even number 5 lol)

Lieutenant Spock hovered tentatively in the doorway to the lab. (The Place We Call Home)

Trip laid his palms flat on the table and pushed himself up, smiling genially at his mess hall companions. (Place Your Bets)

Karveth surveyed the group before him with a comfortable sense of satisfaction. (Not Just Any Vulcan)

Trip lay on his back in T'Pol's bunk, his arm around her, enjoying the afterglow. (Sweet Talk)

Nog paced nervously in front of the console. (A Good Engineer)

This was proving to be one of those days when Trip and T'Pol would see a great deal of one another in the course of their duties, but have very little time to actually speak. (Scotch and Chocolate)

Trip stopped by her quarters that evening with a small box, which T'Pol eyed curiously. (Intoxicants)

There was never going to be a good time to ask. (Mine)

It was that quiet hour right before the first day shift went on duty. (Doctor/Patient Confidentiality)

Fifteen minutes later, Trip had a really good buzz going and was backing T'Pol into the bulkhead of a darkened storage alcove. (Rounding the Bases)

I dunno...anybody seeing any patterns? I have neither subjectivity nor objectivity when it comes to my own writing.

Tagging @iamstartraveller776, but anyone can and should play! Don't wait to be tagged! Insert yourself into the discourse! You deserve it!

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Me: I have a few FitPac ideas but I don't think I've written that much.

The document:

[frankenjoly]

Sultry prompts compilation

BSD

ranposano + a trying on a new outfit for b

fukumori + “and what are you going to do about it?”

fukumori + a kiss to the neck

tachigin + a kiss to the thigh

sskk + “you know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are.”

siglai + “if you go out like that, everyone will know.”

fyolai + “you little devil.”

suegiku + almost caught

atsulucy + a kiss to the thigh

fukumori + “if you go out like that, everyone will know.”

sigzai + “you are constantly finding new ways to surprise me.”

kunikidazai + almost caught

bramcraft + “this was lovely”

JJK

satosugu + “do you trust me?”

gojohime + a kiss to the lower back

itafushi + a kiss to the lower back

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

so… ao3 year in review, huh! this was a good year for me for writing, mcyt content really sparked my brain and i wrote FAR more than i had in the last few years. this post is gonna be mostly mcyt fic, hence why it’s here, but there’s a bit of blaseball left too.

i found the photo of the friend that i was looking for-written for the boston flowers fic exchange commemorating the return of blaseball (heh….), fluff about the flowers being friends and sharing photographs

space’s blaseball poetry collection-exactly what it says on the tin! i joined my school’s poetry club last fall and wrote a lot of poetry about blaseball in that time. (i’ve written a bit of mcyt poetry too, maybe i’ll post that someday)

stop me if you’ve heard this all before-empires s2 cannon divergence where pix is the only survivor of the other universe blood sausage was in and he gets brought to season 2. i swear to god this will be done in the new year, i promise.

would you mind if i tried to take a pass at it?-my longest fic to date and the fic i made this account for in the first place so i could post shipping and people wouldn’t be weird. you all should thank wither husbands for my presence in your life (/j)

just put your sweet lips on my lips-really living up to my ao3 username on this one with a second fluffy wither husbands fic, this time with an established relationship!

i still taste you on my lips, lovely bitter water-i intended for this to be SLIGHTLY cannon divergent and then realized i’d made up an entire piece of empires lore in my head by accident. read this one it’s good.

but when it comes to the end, you’re just the same as them-clock duo are messy as hell and i love that for them. if you could bash someone’s head in with a clock in minecraft impulse would’ve made this fic cannon by now.

men are fools, oh, men are frail-one of my favorites this year about martyn, the end of liml, and misleading prizes. very excited to write more treebark for the title exchange.

she says i’m spread thin, but baby, i’m just restless-deceit had me by a chokehold for a month and i still really like this HOWEVER legundo follows me on tumblr and vaguely implied in his end of the year stream that he reads at least some fanfiction. terrifying.

never forget number 46-another one of my favorites this year, partially because it’s so deeply self indulgent and partially cause it’s GOOD. read my blaseball au even if you don’t know anything about blaseball come closer i promise.

how to rest-the first in the perpetuity/secret life crossover series inspired by @wooshofficial and @betweenlands ‘s ghost fics that wasn’t supposed to become a series. lmao. the third installment will be here shortly.

it’s not something that you put to bed-the second installment in this series and the last of my top 3 fics this year. something about jimmy and chrys’ personalities were so fun to write together and allowed me to play in a very interesting space with him.

so what’s in store for next year? probably a lot of stuff that i don’t know of yet! but definitely on the docket:

blaseball winter exchange fic (will be going on main ao3 and blaseball side blog if you’re interested)

whatever fic(s) i write for treebark title swap (hoping to write at least two!)

second chapter of “stop me” i SWEAR

more blaseball au! i’ve got so many ideas floating around :)

and a million other things i’ve got ideas for that may or may not see the light of day, who knows!

happy new year, everyone!

[sunnysideprincess]

NLP's Pride Bakery

Summary:

Assorted ficlets for a delayed June.

Rose In The Dark

After Clint accidentally walks in on their scene, Steve feels guilty for indulging in his favorite kink. Tony makes some good arguments.

Marvel/MCU

Themes: for kink x pride, pre negotiated kink, foreplay, interrupted sexual foreplay, guilt, safe sane and consensual

Warnings: consensual non consent, no graphic sex scenes, nothing happens besides a bit of groping

Pairings: Steve/Tony, hinted Stuckony, hinted background Bucky/Tony

Snippet:

Steve sighs, buries his head in the crook of his neck. There's a pretty blush on his face. His mild annoyance at being interrupted warring with mortification at being caught. But even then he carefully aligns himself to cover Tony's more prone body.

It's such a familiar, endearing, and generous trait, Tony almost smiles.

"No. What the-"

"Barton," Tony breathes, already planning ten different versions of glitter shoes for the archer as a payback. "I swear to god."

[aislinceivun]

the Questionable✨ radiostatic compilation cw blood, violence, gore, suggestive The first 2 arts go together, the third is unrelated, the last 4 are a minicomic. The comic has an accompanying ficlet which you can read here

[angeart]

Hunted Hybrids AU [hhau] Masterpost

compiled all the au rambles and other important bits for better organisation. ---

a survival story and a love story. a story of despair and hope.

---

hunted hybrids au [hhau] is a scarian au that i share with @linkito - it’s self indulgent and rp-born, although there might be some drabbles and ficlets coming out of it (because we’re obsessed). 

the basic premise is that scar and grian got transported to and stuck in a permadeath world that’s actively cruel and dangerous to hybrids. the nature itself is set against them, providing next to no resources, and the weather keeps getting colder and colder. 

as an avian and a vex, they get relentlessly hunted—and getting caught means death. as they struggle to stay alive, they only have each other left. (desperately, they wish it could be enough.) 

they have no idea what happened to hermitcraft, or if their other friends are even alive, but they barely have time to think about that amidst the cold and the hunger, the fear and the pain. days stretch into months, and their hope of ever returning anywhere akin to home dwindles. (but maybe they can put together a different makeshift hope: a feeble little thought of maybe one day managing to get far away enough that nobody will follow anymore; maybe one day they could make a new home, or the closest thing to it they can manage. maybe this nightmare can have an end, if only they hold onto each other and keep going.)  

---

au cws: violence, blood, injuries, dehumanisation of hybrids, self harm (feather plucking), mentions of suicidal ideation, self-destructive tendencies, arson (just a bit), victim blaming, character death (?), animal death, grief, self worth issues, panic attacks, trauma responses, abandonment issues, separation anxiety

---

--- RAMBLES, ART, ETC ---

au introduction ramble - here

about the ribbon - here

about scar’s wings and vex magic - here

wanted posters - here

---

refecences:

grian design/reference - here & here

scar design/reference - here

scar timelapse face/hair/earring reference: here

---

other bits, snippets, and asks:

what happened to scar’s wings - here

can scar's wings heal? - here

the spear incident (feral scar) - here

feather earring + what happened to scar's ear - here

scar's journal - [to be posted]

scar and cub's bond (including post-rescue mentions) - here

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he remembers the mornings when he woke up pressed against Scar [snippet] - here

you need to go / please don't leave [snippet + art] - here

hurting and feverish in a cave [snippets... multiple] - here

grian feels broken, in some horrible, unfixable way (and scar deserves better) [snippet] - here

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will i find my home, my home, my home in you? - confession/first kiss [RP/FIC] - here (AO3)

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MIMIC ARC:

PART I - MIMIC

part I main rambles - here

part I bonus: the ribbon incident [FIC] - [to be posted]

part I bonus: campfire closeness [art] - here

part I bonus: learning about different, kinder worlds - here

part I bonus: mimic's name - here

PART II - REUNION

part II main rambles - here

part II bonus: scar's magic extertion - here

part II bonus: scar calling out for grian [art] - here

part II bonus: reunion embrace [art] - here

PART III - AFTERMATH

part III main rambles - here

part III bonus: hunted - here

part III bonus: the eclipse - here

part III bonus: mimic, alone - here

PART IV - THE IN-BETWEEN

part IV main rambles: hot spring bath - here the wing spiral - here mating bites and other gifts - [to be posted] hopewards - [to be posted]

part IV bonus: the red haze - [to be posted]

PART V - [REDACTED]

part V main rambles - [to be posted]

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VEX arc:

PART I - COMMUNE

part I main rambles - [to be posted]

part I bonus: about the characters [art included] - here

part I bonus: about nadia - here

part I bonus: about kane and grian (the bird incident, misunderstandings, learning, and flock) - here

part I bonus: scar's vex instincts - here

part I bonus: learning about mating marks - here

part I bonus: learning about mating marks [mini comic] - here

part I bonus: mating marks, vexes, and not being enough - here

part I bonus: building - [to be posted]

part I bonus: cabin arson [ramble] - [to be posted]

part I bonus: cabin arson [art + snippet] - here

part I bonus: a night for living: mr beak - here grian gets mr beak [art + snippet] - here a pink ribbon (kane & flock) [RP] - here dancing by the bonfire [art + snippet] - here other parts - [to be posted]

part I bonus: nice things - here

part I bonus: preening, flying, and flock - [to be posted]

part I bonus: phantom attack - [to be posted]

PART II - DEATH

part II main rambles - [to be posted]

PART III - [REDACTED]

part III main rambles - [to be posted]

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summer arc:

something burns [ask answer] - here

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rescue:

rescue rambles pt I - here

rescue rambles pt II - here

rescue rambles pt III - here

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post-return bits:

will they ever return? [ask] - here

clothing choices [mini ramble + art] - here

we're going to live [snippet] - here

things don't end - here

doubts and breakdowns [+ rp snippets] - here

previous relationships and the booty call incident - here

fever and feeling unsafe [+ rp snippets] - here & art here

scar's feelings & sleepover preparations - here

the sleepover (and the aftermath) - [to be posted]

wedding bits:

proposal [art/comic/snippet] - here

wedding scar [art] - here

wedding grian [art] - here

wedding scarian [art] - here

wedding respawn - here

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more art and other things under #hhau tag <3

art-only tag is #hhau art (but all art also has the main #hhau tag)

[wifiwuxians]

hey! to any of you who are xuechao lovers or are simply enjoyers of the revival AU (that i have lovingly compiled over on @xuechao), it would mean a lot to me if you'd read this little ficlet here! it's an instalment of the AU that sort of flew a bit under the radar and i'd like for it to be given a little more love (: it's just a small domestic scene, but it features the two running scams and some casual nudity and closeness 😏 it's goofy, it's silly, and it's pretty darn cute!

let them into your heart!