#there are some very intriguing fics in progress on ao3

[bunnakit]

*gets back on stage* Thank you, thank you, glad to be back on stage! *preps the mic*

ehem... So about this: let me explain it to the babies in this hellsite that still are too new to a/b/o - omegaverse dynamics.

You have probably seeing our favorite alpha4alpha duo going at each others necks like their lifes depend on it.

And even in their case this gesture is important due to, you guessed it: scent.

Yet, if you go through all their makeouts and nc scenes, there's no bite to be seeing. And that's because there's no use to it in their case. Let me explain why:

This whole gesture turns into a much intricate dynamic when we are talking about an alpha4omega relationship.

The neck is really significant in this "setting" due to the existence of "scent glands". Is basically an exaggeration on how, even in "normal humans", any type of smell is more powerful on the neck area due to the pulsing and warmth of blood, which helps the skin to maintain a smell for much longer. That's why we usually wear perfume on our necks. or why vampires always go to the neck but wrong bl to talk about that.

Now, onto this "scent glands": is what gives away the subgender of anyone just by one sniff. They are the reason why Babe got really happy after those couple of sniffs onto Charlie's neck.

But in their case, that's about as much use as they have. "You smell nice!", that's it.

With our favorite alpha4omega, AlanJeff and you can also attribute this to SonicNorth btw 👀, this area can take a much more importance. Why? Because of marking.

"Marking" in omegaverse is when an alpha "claims" an omega: is a deep bite to the neck area where the scent glands are located. Once an alpha marks an omega, the omega can mark that same alpha back, also claiming it. After you get marked, that's it, you are forever partnered unless one of them dies or the bond is somehow broken but let's not think about it now. Your scent even changes, letting everyone around you know not only that you have being marked, but also whom you belong to.

Now that you know this, my post saying that we are one little step away from this to happen is more clear: because y'all can't tell me that THIS:

isn't the face of an omega whoms being more than ready to be marked and claimed. Jeff has wanted this old man's teeth sunken on his neck since two lifetimes ago.

Because when this little shit said "I can't see anything when you touch me" is pure bullshit! I know, Jefferson, that by this point:

You already knew a bathroom nailing session was bound to happened and I'm trying to not going insane about the position of their heads, I BETTER SEE A BITE MARK DURING THE BATHTUB SCEEN AFTERWARDS.

YOU AIN'T SLICK hehe, JEFFREY, AND NEITHER IS ALAN. My old man is losing his mind for a reason, never instinct has hit him harder than now. Ma boi is ready to take the responsibility and the opportunity cannot come faster for the both of them.

So yeah, that's it. Nothing else to add.

GIVE US THE MARKING, YOU BRAVE COWARDS!!

*runs off stage*

[slut4thebroken]

Idol

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Request: “Milking fic with Crane on his hands and knees gasping and whining as his semen is harvested by an obsessed grad student who idolizes his work and wants his kid”

Warnings | Smut, non con, sedation, prostate massage, milking machine, semen collection, light bondage, noncon drugging, forced breeding??, anal fingering, forced orgasm.

Words | 1.6 k

Notes | yeah.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 30: can you guys help me figure out what I should use pretty please💀

Dr. Crane was by far your favorite professor at Gotham University. He was intriguing and alluring, but also really fucking hot. For a while, he worked at GU and Arkham Asylum, but right before you got your bachelors, he quit his teaching job to take over as the head psychiatrist at Arkham, much to your disappointment. 

You tried to get an internship at Arkham, but you were rejected. It was hard to contain your anger, but you just focused on the endgame, rather than this temporary setback. 

Once Dr. Crane was outed as being the Scarecrow and thrown into the very institution he used to run, things made a lot more sense— like his fascination with fear, the students that would sometimes go missing or randomly drop out with no explanation… The new discovery of his alter ego only deepened your obsession. 

After someone replaced him, you applied for the internship again, but you were accepted this time because, along with Jonathan, a lot of other staff had been arrested for being involved, so they needed the help. 

Then you bided your time. You weren’t actually allowed to see any patients alone as an intern, so you had to work around that…

After hatching a plan, you spent the next few weeks gaining the trust of your superiors and saving up money to buy the right “equipment.” Since this was Arkham, everyone was already far too lax about the rules… So it was no surprise when your plan progressed smoothly. 

“Doctor, I was wondering if I might be able to see Jonathan Crane? I’m writing my dissertation on ethical violations in psychiatric treatment— An interview with him would be invaluable to my research.” She still looked unsure, so you added, “I know it’s unorthodox… Maybe you would feel more comfortable with the idea if you accompanied me?”

“No, I don’t have time for that. Just…” she let out a quiet breath, seemingly coming to a decision, “I’ll set up a private interview for you, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t talk.”

You weren’t completely lying— an interview with him would be invaluable to your dissertation… just not about that specific topic… Honestly, you didn’t even really need to interview him for your real topic, this was just the cover story you used to get alone time with him. 

Two weeks later, you were walking to the private room to meet with him. 

“Professor.” You smiled, sitting down across from him, setting your bag on the floor and the disposable coffee cup on the table. 

“I’m not a professor.” He said coldly, but you weren’t deterred. 

“Sorry… Old habits die hard.” Your smile turned sheepish and you couldn’t help but blush under his intense gaze. “I can’t believe I’m finally here right now.”

“Are you here to interview me or swoon like a teenage girl?” He asked rhetorically. Instead of frowning, his quip actually made your smile widen. 

“I wish I could’ve worked under you. That was my real dream.” You confessed, getting a little lost in thought before snapping out of it. “Oh! I brought you some coffee. Black— I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I figured that was a safe guess.” You smiled, sliding the cup over to him. “As a thank you for meeting with me.”

“It’s not like I really had a choice.” He muttered, grabbing the cup and taking a tentative sip, making you practically grin— Your plan was going perfectly.  

“I promise I won’t take up too much of your time— Though I can’t imagine you really have a lot going on lately...”

“Perceptive.” He said dryly, focusing on the coffee that he probably hasn’t been able to drink since before he was admitted. 

Soon enough, his movements grew sluggish, his eyes struggling to stay open as he fought the sedative. Once he was pliant enough, you got up and lifted him to his feet with some difficulty, then laid him down on his stomach on the table with his feet still touching the floor. You grabbed the restraints from your bag and extended his arms forward, attaching his wrists to two legs of the table just in case, before doing the same with his ankles. He was grumbling something, but it was mostly unintelligible, so you ignored it.  

When you pulled his pants down to his ankles, he barely reacted and you moaned quietly at the sight of him. His cock was soft, but it was still just so pretty… You ached to taste it, touch it, feel it— but you knew you couldn’t this time.

Because of money and what you’d be able to sneak in here, you were only able to get the milking machine for his cock. So you attached that and made sure the tube and collection jar were secured to it, then grabbed some lube and put it on your fingers. He was already whimpering at the feeling of the automatic pump stroking his cock, but he let out a choked sound when you pushed a finger in his asshole, immediately searching for his prostate. As soon as you found it, you started applying steady pressure in small, circular movements. 

Honestly, you thought it would take a lot longer, but after a few minutes— probably because he’s been stuck in an asylum for months— come was already starting to dribble out of his cock, landing in the pump and trailing down to the collection jar. 

His sounds were making your clit throb, but you ignored it, knowing you had to focus on extracting his seed. Once you managed to knock yourself up with his kid, then you could have some fun with him. 

He was gasping and whining, his hips squirming as the pump relentlessly milked his poor cock while you massaged his prostate. He let out a guttural moan when you pushed a second finger inside, scissoring them a little bit, but mostly focusing on rubbing his prostate to get him to release more come. 

You almost couldn’t believe how easy this was. However, you kept looking over your shoulder at the door just in case, feeling like you should’ve been caught by now or something. But no one came in. You were left completely alone with your favorite professor and future baby daddy. 

The jar was filling up with his seed quickly, but you didn’t stop— how could you when he sounded so hot all drugged out like this, moaning wantonly while you collected his sperm? 

Unable to resist the temptation to taste any part of him, you angled your arm up to give yourself more room, then leaned forward to start lapping at his balls, sucking them into your mouth. They were pulsing with each stream of come that gushed out of his cock, being drained properly and fully. You moaned around him, laving at his balls like they were your favorite dessert, making his cock leak even more.  

A sudden knock on the door made you pull back and freeze, your blood running cold. “Five minutes.” Someone said from the other side of the metal, making you relax slightly. 

“O-Okay.” You replied, then breathed a silent sigh of relief before getting back to business. 

You intensified your efforts, zeroing in on his prostate with your fingers while you sucked and licked at his balls greedily. The pump was still stroking his cock and Jonathan was all but trembling as he laid on the table, spread out for you. His sounds were almost pained, but you knew he was feeling incredible— he wouldn’t be coming so much if he weren’t. 

You couldn’t help it when you slipped a hand between your legs, but you could barely even focus on rubbing your clit so you resorted to humping your fingers. You knew you wouldn’t have enough time to come today, but you could come as much as you wanted while you inseminated yourself at home. 

He was whining even louder and started squirming a little more, so you reluctantly pulled back, now able to see that the trickle of come from his cock had slowed down significantly. So you carefully pulled your fingers out of his ass, forcing a choked sound out of him, then you reluctantly turned off the pump, making him sag onto the table in a limp heap. His cock was still dripping a little, so you leaned forward before you could stop yourself and suckled on the red, swollen tip, moaning at the taste. It was hard to make yourself pull back, already so addicted to his come.

After putting the lid on the collection jar and putting the milking machine back in your bag, you pulled his pants up and removed the restraints, then struggled to get him back in his chair. 

Knowing you didn’t have a lot of time, you quickly grabbed the syringe from your bag— a counteragent for the sedative that was in the coffee— and injected it into his arm, then stood up on shaky legs just as the warden knocked again. Jonathan’s eyes were slowly blinking open, struggling to regain focus. You made sure nothing was out of place, then grabbed the half empty coffee cup and walked over to the door. 

“I’m all done.” You called out, prompting the warden to open the door. You walked through the threshold and he looked you up and down, searching for anything wrong. 

“He give you any trouble?” He asked gruffly, making you smile. 

“He was a little reluctant to talk at first, but he gave me so much to work with eventually.” You said with a knowing smile, your eyes glinting. 

[sasheemo]

Revenge and Reconciliation

Pairing: Ex gfs Bound!Agatha x Witch!Reader

Summary: When the hex shatters, the bond between you and Agatha reignites with a force too raw to ignore. Confronting her after decades of anger, betrayal, and yearning, you’re determined to make her pay. Power, passion, and a collision of unresolved emotions blur the line between vengeance and surrender.

Tags: Bitter Ex Gfs, Smut, Revenge Sex, Emotional Angst, Power Dynamics, Magic-Infused Sex, Magic Strap, Magic Cum, Magic Wrists Restraints, Slight Degradation, Cum Powered Reconciliation, Revenge Gets Sticky, Sub!Agatha (I know, wtf), Writing Sub Agatha Feels Illegal, Is It Subbing If She Still Wins Tho?

Word count: 6.6k

A/N: I wrote this fic as an attempt to wrestle my way out of the creative block that’s been clinging to me like an overly affectionate stray cat. I don’t think it’s the best thing I could have written, and I’m not entirely convinced by it, but the idea had been gathering dust on my list for a while, so here we are.

The concept of sub!Agatha has always intrigued me—mostly because, in my mind, it’s about as rare as a solar eclipse. I usually stick to writing Dom!Agatha, but hey, I think sub!Agatha is canon-compliant too… just in that “blink and you’ll miss it, alignment of the magical cosmos” kind of way.

For this fic, I decided to throw caution (and some very own personal hcs) to the wind and see if I could somehow make that dynamic work in an x Reader setting. Did I nail it? Definitely not. Do I feel like I truly captured the elusive sub!Agatha vibe that lives rent-free in my head? Eh, we’ll call it a work in progress. Maybe I’ll take another swing at it someday. For now, here’s my first attempt—enjoy! 💜

MASTERLIST

Read on AO3

It’s subtle at first—a faint ripple in the air, like a string pulled taut and suddenly slackened. But you feel it, deep in your body and soul, as if the ground beneath you shifted. 

The hex is broken. 

Agatha.

Her name lingers in your mind like a curse, dragging with it a torrent of emotions you’ve spent decades trying to bury.

Fury, white-hot and all-consuming, surges to the surface, clawing at the walls you’ve built around it. You can feel it all, the bitterness, the pain, the endless ache of betrayal.

Yet everything feels shushed by the unmistakable pull of her magic, faint but familiar, like the distant hum of a melody you can’t forget.

You’ve tried to sever this bond more times than you can count, poured every ounce of power into cutting the thread of magic that still ties you to her. 

But it never worked. Years of spells, rituals, and desperate attempts to scrape her magic from your soul couldn’t erase that connection, that cruel reminder of the love you once shared.

You don’t want to feel her. You don’t want to feel anything.

But with the hex shattered, she’s there—everywhere. The memories rise like a tide, drowning you in the ghost of what once was. 

The warmth of her fingers, trailing just long enough to leave a fire in their wake. Her voice, low and teasing, laced with promises that made your heart race. You remember the way she laughed, genuine and unguarded when she let herself forget the world, or the way her lips curled into a smirk when she caught you staring, daring you to look away. Those stolen nights, when her touch was tender and her kisses slow, felt endless, like she was giving you pieces of her no one else had ever seen.

And then… nothing. 

She left. Without a word. Without a reason. Without even a shred of decency to say goodbye. She disappeared like smoke, leaving only the cold, bitter truth: it meant nothing. You meant nothing.

The memories crash to a halt, mocking you, shaming you, for ever believing she could be anything more than one of her masterly crafted lies. 

Your magic surges in response, wild and vengeful, begging for release. You clench your fists, trying to ground yourself, but it’s futile. Her presence—or the absence of it—calls to you.

It’s been decades, but the wound is as raw as the day she abandoned you, as sharp as the moment you realized she wasn’t coming back. 

But you won’t give her the chance to run this time.

Without hesitation, you focus your energy, feeling the familiar pull of teleportation. The world shifts, and when you open your eyes, you’re standing outside her house in Westview. It’s dark and unassuming, the air around it heavy with the remnants of the hex’s magic.

The door slams open with a burst of energy, the wood groaning under the force of your magic. The faint remnants of Wanda’s hex still cling to the air, a metallic tang that pricks at your senses, but they’re nothing compared to the oppressive weight of her presence.

Agatha is sprawled on the couch as if she hasn’t a care in the world, her posture loose and unbothered despite the clear signs of exhaustion clinging to her. 

Her dark hair, longer than you remember, tumbles around her shoulders in wild, mussed waves, catching the light like ink kissed by moonlight. Her clothes are rumpled, the lines of her blouse wrinkled and her jeans have clearly seen better days, but somehow the disarray only adds to her maddening allure. 

And then there’s her face—those sharp cheekbones, that pale, smooth skin, and the glint in her icy blue eyes that even now refuses to dim. 

She looks up at you, her smirk curling with the same audacity that’s haunted you for decades, and for a moment, you hate how effortlessly breathtaking she is, how your heart still skips a beat whenever her eyes meet yours. Even now, even when she’s powerless.

“Well, well.” she drawls, tilting her head, her voice laced with a defiance she has no right to feel. “Come to gloat?”

You take a step inside and the air shifts, charged with the force of your presence. For the first time in decades, you’re the one with the power, and Agatha—bound, powerless, and alone—is at your mercy.

“You look terrible.” you say, your voice sharp, cutting. “What happened to the all-powerful Agatha Harkness? Shouldn’t you be out scheming, manipulating, destroying lives? Oh, wait—”. You step closer, savoring the way her smirk falters, “You can’t.”

Agatha’s smirk snaps back into place, but there’s a flicker—tiny, fleeting—of something behind her eyes. Fear? No, she wouldn’t let you see that. Regret? That would be even more shocking. Whatever it is, it’s gone in an instant.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” she says, leaning back against the couch. “I guess that hasn’t changed.”

Your jaw tightens, so hard you’re lucky you don’t chip a tooth. The sheer audacity of her, lounging there like she hasn’t single-handedly fueled centuries of your bitterness, makes your magic flare. 

The air around you hums with tension, a wave of heat radiating from your skin, but she doesn’t even flinch. Of course she doesn’t. Why would she? Agatha has always been maddeningly immune to the consequences of her actions. 

“Don’t you dare pretend nothing happened.” you snap, stepping closer until you’re towering over her. “You left, Agatha. You abandoned me without a word. No explanation, no goodbye—just gone. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

“I had my reasons.” she murmurs, voice quieter now, almost too quiet.

Your laugh is cold, bitter. “Reasons? That’s the best you can come up with? You destroyed me, Agatha. For decades, I tried to understand why, to make sense of how I meant so little to you.”

Her lips part as if to speak, but no words come out. For a moment, just a moment, you see something raw in her gaze—a vulnerability she’s trying desperately to hide.

“Don’t.” you say sharply, your magic flaring brighter. “Don’t you dare try to justify what you did. You don’t get to play the victim.”

Her smirk falls back into place, but it’s weaker now, almost brittle. 

“You’re really milking this righteous fury thing, aren’t you?” she quips, though her voice lacks its usual bite. “What do you want, then? Revenge? Closure? Or did you just miss me?”

The last question catches you off guard, her tone teasing but her eyes searching. Your magic is screaming at you to be unleashed, the rage bubbling so close to the surface as you lean in closer, your face inches from hers.

“What I want,” you say, your voice low and dangerous, “is for you to feel even a fraction of the pain you caused me.”

The heat of your fury presses down on her, forcing her back into the couch. Her sharp tongue falters, her bravado slipping just enough for you to see it: the crack in her armor, the shadow of fear in her eyes.

“Give me one good reason,” you hiss, venom drenching your tone, “why I shouldn’t end this now. Why I shouldn’t take everything from you the way you took everything from me.”

“Because you still love me.”

Five words, and everything you’ve built comes crashing down.

It festers like an old wound torn open, flesh ripped apart to reveal something gory beneath, bleeding and pulsing. It’s a visceral pain that feels like it might consume you whole, a dark, twisting ache that blooms in your chest and radiates outward.

Your grip on your magic falters, and for a fleeting second, you see her as she was all those years ago—the woman who once held your heart in her hands, who kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

The memory bleeds into the present, stark and jarring, clashing with the image of the woman before you now. She’s still breathtaking, but there’s a hollowness in her now, a shadow where the fire used to burn brightest. 

The contrast churns something bitter and broken inside you—resentment, grief, yearning, perhaps all three at once. It’s unbearable, the way the past and present collide, leaving you adrift in the space between what was and what is.

You force yourself to recoil, your magic snapping back to you as if burned. 

“Love?” you spit, the word a venomous hiss that cuts through the charged air between you. “You think I could still love you after everything you did? I fucking hate you, Agatha.”

Her laughter startles you—a sharp, bitter sound that carries no joy, only a rawness that sinks deep under your skin. It’s the laugh of someone who’s long since made peace with their own destruction.

“Hate’s just love that’s been shattered to pieces.” she says, her voice cracking, the edges sharp enough to draw blood. “And we both know you’ve been holding onto those shards for decades.”

You want to deny it, to unleash every ounce of fury you’ve carried for all these years, to rip her apart for daring to speak such a painful truth aloud.

But you can’t.

And it’s in this moment of hesitation, of vulnerability, that the rage in your chest shifts—twisting into something far more dangerous.

The bond between you roars, electric and alive, as if responding to your emotions. It’s always been there, tethering you to her no matter how much you tried to sever it. And now, it’s pulling you closer, wrapping around you like dense smoke.

It’s infuriating. It’s intoxicating. And you fucking missed it.

Even bound and powerless, Agatha looks at you as if she’s still in control, as if the years of pain and betrayal you’ve carried mean nothing.

Her eyes narrow, a glint of recognition flashing in that unnervingly sharp gaze. She sees it, she feels it, the way her words have struck a nerve. And, of course, she pounces on it.

“What’s the matter, hon?” she purrs, her voice a sickeningly sweet mockery of concern. “Can’t decide whether to kill me or fuck me?”

The words land like a match to gasoline, igniting a fire it’s far too late to extinguish. The line you’ve been toeing shatters, and before you can stop yourself, you close the final distance between you in one swift movement, your hand wrapping around her throat as you press her back against the couch. 

Her smirk doesn’t leave her lips—if anything, it deepens, her breath catching just slightly as her eyes gleam with something dark and infuriatingly pleased.

You can feel her pulse under your fingertips, quick and unsteady, and it only feeds the chaos roiling inside you.

“You don’t get to say that.” you hiss, leaning closer until your face is inches from hers. “You don’t get to act like this is a game.”

“And what if it is?” she murmurs, her voice low, almost daring. “What if that’s all we’ve ever been?”

The anger in your chest twists, warping into something raw and untamed. You hate her. You want her. The two emotions bleed together, inseparable, consuming.

Your grip on her throat tightens—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who has the power now. She doesn’t fight you, but she doesn’t look away either.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me.” you say, your voice shaking with the weight of everything you’ve held back. “No idea what it’s been like to carry this—this anger, this pain, this fucking bond I can’t escape.”

Of course, you don’t expect her to apologize, she never would, but the flicker of regret in her eyes is louder than words.

The bond between you hums again, relentless and unyielding, pulling you closer even as you try to resist. You do hate her, but you also can’t deny the way her presence calls to you, the way her magic—even diminished—feels like a part of you.

“Why, Agatha?” you demand, your voice breaking as you lean in closer. “Why did you leave? Why did you—”

She cuts you off by brushing her lips against yours in the barest hint of contact. It’s not a kiss, not yet, but it steals the breath from your lungs all the same. 

As her breath mingles with yours, the world collapses to the infinitesimal space between your lips, a charged, aching void that demands to be closed.

And then, as if honoring that demand, she closes the distance. 

Her lips crash onto yours in a kiss that isn’t tender—it’s a storm, a battle, a clash of wills. Her mouth moves against yours with a desperation that feels like surrender, but there’s no mistaking the way she bites at your lower lip, as if daring you to take more.

You growl low in your throat, the sound vibrating against her lips as your hands find her hips, pinning her harder against the couch. She arches into you, her body a perfect, infuriating fit against yours, and the bond between you flares alive, pulling you deeper into the chaos of her.

Her tongue meets yours, and it’s molten—hot and demanding, tangled in a rhythm that feels like a fight for dominance neither of you is willing to lose. The couch creaks beneath you as you press her down, your weight covering hers completely, your hand sliding up to tangle in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her gasp into your mouth.

This isn’t forgiveness. It isn’t reconciliation. It’s unfiltered emotion, punishment and possession, everything you’ve bottled up for decades exploding in a collision of anger and desire that leaves no room for restraint.

With a flick of your wrist, her clothes dissolve into shimmering wisps of magic, vanishing like smoke into the air. What’s left behind steals the breath from your lungs despite every part of you screaming not to react, not to let her affect you like this.

The sight of Agatha’s bare body, a masterpiece of soft curves and sharp angles, reignites memories you thought you’d buried—the way her skin once felt beneath your hands, how her body moved in perfect synch with yours, every sound she made etched into your soul.

It’s been decades since you last saw her like this, but time has done nothing to dull her power over you. 

Your pulse thunders in your ears, heat spreading like wildfire through your veins as your gaze trails over her, lingering on the lines of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the way her thighs tremble ever so slightly.

She’s bound and powerless in every possibile sense of the words, yet somehow she still holds the upper hand.

Her lips curl into the faintest smirk as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. “Still as easy to impress as ever, I see.”

The words snap you out of your trance, a surge of irritation mingling with the desire coursing through you. 

With another flick of your wrist, ropes of magic coil around her wrists, pulling them together and suspending them above her head. The glowing bonds crackle with energy, casting faint light over her bare skin. 

Her smirk falters, just slightly, as she tugs against the restraints, her muscles flexing in defiance and testing their hold.

And it’s that—that small attempt at resistance, her futile struggle against the bonds you’ve created—that makes something snap inside you. 

It’s not just power—it’s the realization that she, the woman who’s haunted your every waking thought and dream, is finally yours to control. The intensity of it almost scares you, the way it spreads through your chest like spilled ink, staining every corner of your mind in pitch black.

It’s a visceral, consuming need to claim her, to fill her, to mark her in a way that will sear into her soul, leaving no room for doubt or escape. The hunger burns through you, fierce and unrelenting, every ounce of your power thrumming with it, shaping itself into something tangible, something undeniable.

Your lower clothing dissolves into shimmering magic, leaving you partially bare—but not fully. The vulnerability of complete nakedness is a luxury you can’t afford. Not right now. Not with Agatha. You want the contrast to be stark—her, stripped of everything, exposed and powerless beneath you, while you remain in control. It’s a statement, a reminder, that here, now, you’re the one with the upper hand.

And then, as though summoned by your need, the strap materializes. And it’s not just magic—it’s a part of you, an extension of your body. 

The weight of it settles against your hips, grounding you, the connection immediate and intimate, as if it’s always been there.

Your gaze drops for a moment, drawn to the way your cock stands proud and commanding, and a smirk tugs at your lips. You take in its size, the thick, substantial girth that demands attention. You make no effort to hide your satisfaction as your hand wraps firmly around its base, stroking it in slow, deliberate movements that make your intent unmistakable.

Agatha’s eyes widen, her own gaze falling to your cock before flicking back to your face. Her lips part slightly, and her tongue darts out to wet them in a motion so instinctive, so sinful, that it sends a fresh jolt of heat through you.

For once, she seems utterly at a loss for words, the sharp wit you’ve come to expect from her silenced by the weight of the moment, and by you.

“Speechless?” you ask, your tone dripping with mockery. “Not like you.”

“Well,” she manages, clicking her tongue, her voice laced with an edge of forced confidence, “you’ve certainly… outdone yourself.”

You press the tip against her thigh, watching as her body tenses and her breath hitches. Slowly, teasingly, you trail it upward, letting it graze her glistening folds but never quite giving her what she wants. 

You see all of her defiance falter the second you tap the tip against her clit. You do it multiple times, teasing her until she’s a panting mess, her chest heaving as her body completely betrays her. 

And yet, her eyes stay locked on yours, burning with a mix of frustration and longing.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your hand sliding back to her throat, wrapping around it just enough to keep her grounded. Her pulse races beneath your fingers, and you feel her body relax into your touch, her submission becoming more evident with every passing second. “You’re supposed to be the powerful one, remember? The one who’s always in control. How does it feel to be at my mercy?”

She doesn’t answer—not with words. Instead, a broken moan escapes her lips as you finally push the tip of your cock into her. The sensation shoots through you like lightning, raw and electric, and you can’t stop the low hum that escapes your lips.

“So wet for someone who acts like she’s above it all.” you say, your voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Tell me, Agatha—do you always get this needy when you’re powerless? Or is it just for me?”

Her cheeks flush, and she glares at you, but the humiliation in her eyes only makes your smirk deepen. She tilts her hips toward you in an attempt to take more, the motion drawing a smug chuckle from your throat.

“Pathetic.” you mock, “You used to have me on my knees, begging for you. And here you are now, so desperate for my cock you can’t even hide it.”

Her lips part in a sharp, trembling intake of breath, her chest rising and falling as her wrists strain futilely against the glowing restraints above her head. 

“You think you’re in control now?” she spits, though her voice trembles. “That this makes you powerful?”

You laugh, cold and merciless, leaning in until your breath fans across the shell of her ear. 

“Oh, I don’t think.” you whisper, your words nothing but a cruel taunt. “I know.”

To drive the point home, you push deeper, and the wet, obscene sound of her body yielding to you fills the room. 

She’s molten, deliciously tight, and her slick heat draws you in like a drug. Every inch you sink into her feels like a conquest, you can feel how her body stretches to take you, how her walls tremble and clench around the pleasurable intrusion, pulling you deeper as if begging for more. 

The sensation is so vivid, so overwhelming, that a loud, unrestrained moan tears from your lips.

“Seems like I’m not the only needy one.” she murmurs, her voice trembling but cutting nevertheless. “Such pretty sounds for me.”

Her words strike a nerve, and the moment they register, your hips snap forward in one sharp, punishing thrust, driving the strap so deep your hips collide with hers. 

The impact sends a jolt through both of you, her sharp cry echoing through the air before it’s cut off as your fingers tighten around her throat.

“Is that what you wanted? Mmh?” you hiss, your voice trembling with the effort to stay in control. “To be fucked like this? To feel what it’s like to be under me for once?”

She doesn’t respond, her voice swallowed by a series of breathless moans as you pull back and thrust in again, setting a slow, languid rhythm that feels more like a claim than a motion. 

You want to break her—but not physically. Even now, even with the all this anger coursing through you, the thought of truly hurting her is unthinkable. You know you’re big, and despite everything, you couldn’t forgive yourself if you let the fury bleeding into your movements cause her pain.

Instead, you pour that intensity into control, into precision, into the way you angle your hips just right to drag your length against every sensitive spot inside her. The sound of her wetness grows louder with each thrust, mingling with the faint creak of the couch beneath you.

“Gods.” you murmur, your free hand gripping her hip to steady yourself. “You feel that, don’t you? How wet you are for me? How much you want this?”

Her head nods slightly, the motion almost instinctive, as if her body answers before her mind has time to process, before the final syllable of your last question even hangs in the air.

“Yes—fuck.” she whispers, the word trembling on her lips. “Yes, I—”

“Louder!” you command, your tone sharp as you feel it—a fresh gush of wetness enveloping you, slick and hot, pulling you in. 

“Yes!” she screams, her voice cracking under the weight of her need. “I want it—I want you.”

Her admission is a spark to the inferno raging inside you, and you give in to it, your magic surging wildly. 

Your pace quickens, your hips snapping forward with growing intensity, each thrust deeper and harder than the last, the slap of your hips against hers a relentless cadence of possession that blends with her cries.

Her wrists pull at the restraints while her back arches and her moans rise higher, each one a testament to your power over her, a surrender you claim with every punishing thrust.

Your gaze drops involuntarily, drawn to the mesmerizing rhythm of her breasts bouncing in time with your movements, and the sight instantly makes your mouth water. The memory of their softness, the way they felt against your tongue and lips, rushes back unbidden, igniting a primal urge to lean down and take one into your mouth.

But you catch yourself, clenching your jaw against the temptation. This isn’t about her pleasure. You’re not here to make her enjoy herself. You’re here to ruin her, to make her crumble under your control.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” she whispers, her voice breaking. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Your eyes snap back to hers, a wicked grin spreading across your lips as your grip on her throat loosens, your hand sliding down to join the other on her hips. With both hands anchoring her in place, your pace grows ruthless, each thrust drawing louder and more desperate sounds from her.

Her walls tighten around you, squeezing your cock as the connection between you deepens, your magic tangling with hers in a way that feels both chaotic and inevitable.

And then, just as you feel teetering on the edge of release, you pull back, slowing to a maddening pace. 

Your thrusts become shallow, deliberate teases that barely fill her, leaving her gasping and writhing beneath you. Her frustration is palpable, her hips bucking in search of relief, but you hold her steady, a cruel smirk curling your lips.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” you purr, each word dripping with satisfaction. “Just say the word, Agatha. Beg me, and I’ll let you come.”

Her body tenses beneath you, every muscle taut as she fights the command with everything she has, struggling to cling to the last fleeting semblance of control. Even as her thighs quiver and her hips twitch uncontrollably, her pride holds her back, refusing to surrender to you so easily.

But as each thrust reminds her of what she’s being denied, drawing out her torment, her nails curl into her palms, her jaw tightens, and her resolve cracks little by little under the relentless pressure. 

Finally, her head tilts back, her voice breaking as the words tear from her throat. “Please—fuck… please, let me come.”

Her words ignite something feral and all-consuming. Power surges through your veins, setting your every nerve ablaze as you answer her desperate plea and resume fucking her with renewed vigor. 

You slam into her with brutal force, each thrust hitting that soft, devastatingly perfect spot inside her that makes her entire body jerk beneath you. Her eyes roll back, her cries turning into incoherent, panting moans that fuel the raw, insatiable need driving your every motion.

“That’s it.” you growl, your hand sliding down to her clit. You circle it with fast, precise movements, your fingers slick with her arousal as you push her closer to the edge. “Come for me, Agatha. Come on my cock.”

Her moans climb higher, until they peak in a scream that tears through the air as the tension within her shatters all at once. 

Agatha’s orgasm bursts forth like a supernova, bright and devastating, her walls clenching and spasming around you in rhythmic pulses that leave you breathless. She cries out your name, her voice splintering into a sob as her body quakes with the force of her release.

The sight of her—head thrown back, lips parted, her chest heaving as she trembles in the throes of ecstasy—is almost enough to undo you. But you don’t stop. You keep pounding into her, forcing her to take every inch over and over as you drive her higher, helping her ride out each wave of her climax.

And then, as you revel in the way she’s gripping you as though she never wants to let you go, and your own release threatens to overtake you, you falter.  

Because her eyes—half-lidded, blown wide, and dark with need—lock onto yours, piercing through the haze of control you’ve clung to. Her lips part, trembling, and her voice cuts through the storm.

“Fuck—please, baby.” she gasps, each word breaking into a whimper that makes your stomach tighten and your magic throb. “Come inside me. I need it—need to feel it, need you to fill me up.

That’s it. Her words, how she begged for it, the pet name falling so effortlessly from her lips, the raw desperation in her voice, the sheer thought of filling her up with your cum, of watching her take every drop like she’s made for it. It’s all more than enough to tip you over the edge.

How utterly ruined she looks beneath you only adds to it, and whatever fragile grip you had on your restraint shatters instantly, obliterated by the force of her need.

Your hips snap forward in one last devastating thrust, burying your cock into her as deep as it can go, your climax slamming into you like an explosion. 

And then it happens.

The magic within you surges implacably, a relentless flood that erupts deep inside her in thick, scorching waves. Each pulse of your cock forces more of your release into her, a molten rush that fills her completely. The bond between you roaring with life as your magic claims her from the inside out, leaving no part of her untouched.

Beneath you, Agatha’s body goes taut, her back arching violently as the blue in her eyes gets rapidly swallowed by a swirling, familiar, luminous purple. 

You can feel her magic pouring back into her, she gasps as it all overtakes her, her body trembling violently as another orgasm tears through her. But this one is unexpected, different, and even more powerful than the first. 

Her cry pierces the air, a sound of pure ecstasy and unrestrained power, unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It’s primal, otherworldly, and devastatingly beautiful. For a moment, you’re left breathless, unwillingly captivated by the sight of her. A vision that makes something inside you ache.

When the final waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto her, your breath ragged, your body trembling with exhaustion and the lingering hum of magic. 

The restraints on her wrists dissolve, fading into shimmering sparks, and her hands hover for a moment, uncertain, before they settle gently on your back.

Her touch is light, not hesitant but careful, as though rediscovering something long lost. And as your bodies press together, it feels as if no time has passed at all since you last lay in each other’s arms.

Agatha’s chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, her lips parted as her hooded eyes lock onto yours.

Her gaze is a labyrinth, a tangle of emotions so layered and profound it’s impossible to unravel. There’s no trace of defiance, no smugness, no sharp wit lurking in the corners. Instead, disbelief and shock hum beneath the surface, while a glimmer of something softer—gratefulness, maybe even devotion—burns faintly. And yet, woven through it all is an aching, unguarded longing.

It’s a silent confession wrapped in questions, and the absence of her usual masks, the sheer vulnerability staring back at you, stirs something deep in your chest, a feeling too overwhelming to even begin to name.

As you pull out of her, you catch how her hips twitch instinctively at the sudden emptiness, and the sound she makes—a quiet, needy whine—makes your breath hitch. 

The cock dissolves in a flicker of shimmering light, fading back into the ether, but your eyes remain fixed on what it left behind.

You watch your cum drip from her, thick and glistening as it slides slowly down her folds. The sight is mesmerizing and utterly filthy, making a new rush of heat coil low in your stomach. 

Agatha notices the shift in your gaze, lazily tilting her head to follow it. When she sees what’s caught your attention, a smug grin spreads across her face, equal parts infuriating and intoxicating.

“Hmm.” she hums, her voice a sultry drawl that sends shivers down your spine. “You always did know how to leave an impression, darling.” 

She pauses, her grin deepening as her eyes flick back to yours, gleaming with sharp amusement. “Though I must say, I never expected to get my powers back this way… not that I’m complaining.”

As soon as you register her words your jaw clenches, a flush rising to your cheeks as frustration surges through you. 

That wasn’t supposed to happen. The thought echoes in your mind, relentless and deafening. You didn’t plan this—hell, you didn’t even know you could do that, and the realization leaves you stunned, reeling. 

You came here to break her, to strip her of whatever scraps of control she had left, to show her just how worthless she was without her power. You came here to make her pay.

But instead, as always, in the end, Agatha got exactly what she wanted. 

The smugness etched into her face says it all. It’s infuriating. Humiliating. Maddening. Everything always plays out in her favor, no matter how the odds stack against her. The universe itself seems to bend for her, conspiring to deliver her victory, while you’re left choking on the ashes of your intentions.

And yet, even in your frustration, there’s a selfish, shameful flicker of satisfaction burning in your chest. You gave her back her power, yes—but you did it your way. Intimate. Indelible. Something neither of you can ignore or undo. 

No matter how powerful she becomes again, no matter how she wields what’s been restored, she’ll always know who gave it back to her and how. She’ll owe you, whether she admits it or not.

In that way, you did make her pay. And the twisted irony of it feels like a cruel, bitter triumph.

Agatha notices the shift in your expression, the way your gaze has drifted into the distance as if lost in thought, and her voice slices through the haze with a softness that catches you completely off guard.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this.” she whispers, her tone impossibly gentle, like a secret meant only for you. ”When you’re all mine.”

Her words land like a jolt, anchoring you back to the present and cutting through the fog in your mind. 

There’s something in her voice, an aching sincerity you didn’t expect, that makes something deep inside you twist painfully.

But even if her tenderness disarms you, it still strikes a nerve, clashing violently with the anger and resentment still simmering beneath your skin. You cling to that anger desperately, using it to shield yourself from the confusion clawing at the edges of your control and threatening to drag you under.

“I’m not yours.” you snarl, but the words lack conviction, and you know she hears it.

Her grin returns, sharper now, as if she’s savoring your futile resistance. 

“Oh, darling…” she whispers, her voice dripping with equal parts confidence and affection. “You’ve always been mine.”

You open your mouth to reply, to hurl another retort that might restore some semblance of control, but the words die on your tongue as her hand moves with startling speed. 

Her fingers curl around the back of your neck, her grip firm yet trembling, and she pulls you down roughly, her lips crashing against yours before you can resist.

The kiss is instant chaos, scattering your thoughts like leaves in a storm. Her tongue slides against yours, hot and insistent, tangling and teasing with a fervor that steals the air from your lungs. 

It’s wet, messy, the taste of her flooding your senses as she kisses you with the same confident, consuming intensity she always did. 

But beneath the confidence, there’s something unspoken. 

It’s in the way her body shudders beneath you, in the way her fingers dig into your neck, in the way her lips cling to yours as though letting go might unravel her completely. The vulnerability in her touch and the aching need in her kiss cut through the haze of anger, leaving you trembling and unsure whether the ache blooming in your chest is pain, longing, or both.

But right now, whatever it is you’re feeling, you refuse to linger on it. 

You won’t allow her another second of your time, your presence. The very air around her feels oppressive, making it harder to breathe, and you know that if you stay a moment longer it will be too late to resurface.

With all the strength and willpower you can muster, you push yourself up, breaking away from her touch and from her warmth. 

You wave a hand, conjuring back your underwear and pants in a blur of hasty magic, your movements jerky and unsteady while every fiber of your being screams at you to put distance between yourself and her. To leave.

Suddenly, the bond hums again, loud and persistent, gnawing and mocking at your resolve. You grit your teeth and force yourself to ignore it, taking a couple of steps toward the door, refusing to look back. 

You’ll leave. You need to leave. You want to leave.

But with Agatha, it’s never that easy.

“Wait.”

It’s not a command. It’s not teasing or smug. It’s quiet, almost unsure, and that alone makes you hesitate.

You glance back over your shoulder, your voice sharp with all the frustration burning hot in your chest. “What could you possibly want now?”

She sits up slowly, still completely naked, making no effort to conjure clothes with the magic now thrumming through her.

“Answers.” she says, her tone smooth but tinged with a sly undertone, her gaze locked on yours with unnerving steadiness. “That’s why you came here, isn’t it? To finally hear the truth you think I owe you.” 

She pauses, her lips curving into a faint, almost teasing smile as her eyes flick downward to her still-bare body. “Especially after… this.” Her eyes return to yours, glinting with amusement. “I suppose it’s only fair.”

You fold your arms across your chest, your anger warring with the pull of her words. 

“You owe me more than answers.” you bite back, your voice cutting and cold. “You owe me years of my life, years of trying to understand why you left.”

“And you’ll have them.” her voice softer now, almost disarming. “But not like this.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicion curling in the pit of your stomach. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She rises slowly, her movements deliberate as she closes the distance between you. Her nakedness robs her of nothing—if anything, it sharpens her power, her control. 

When she reaches you, her hand lifts to cup your cheek, her touch infuriatingly warm, a silent challenge wrapped in unsettling intimacy.

“Stay.” she says, her thumb skimming your skin with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. “We’ll talk. Over dinner. But only if you stay.”

You bristle at the condition, your pride flaring. 

“Using my need for closure as leverage?” you ask, your voice biting. “How very you.”

Her grin returns, sharper now, but her eyes betray a flicker of something gentler. 

“Oh, darling.” she purrs, her voice dripping with confidence, “I know you want this, so, let’s not play pretend. I’d say we’re well past that point, wouldn’t you?”

Your jaw tightens, the weight of her gaze making it hard to hold onto your anger. You hate that she’s right. Hate that you want to stay, that the bond between you has wrapped itself around your heart so tightly you can’t bear to leave.

“Fine. Dinner.” you say, your voice clipped. “But no games, Agatha. You owe me the truth.”

Her smirk deepens for a moment, a glimmer of mischief flashing in her eyes, before softening into a genuine, almost nostalgic smile. 

“No games.” she whispers, her tone unexpectedly gentle. “Just dinner… like old times.”

You shake your head, as if trying to clear the lingering warmth of her touch. But it stays with you as you watch her move toward the kitchen, humming softly to herself.

As you follow her, you can’t help but wonder if staying will be your salvation or your undoing. But with Agatha, it’s never a question of one or the other—it’s always both, tangled together in a way that, after all this time, you’re starting to realize you were never meant to escape.

[zuppizup]

Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning

I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.

So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.

What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?

The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?

And what do they know about what’s to come?

You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.

Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?

Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.

Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.

So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?

In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?

Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.

Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.

I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.

Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.

From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.

I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?

Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.

To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.

Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.

Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.

Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.

I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.

Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.

We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?

Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?

Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.

Or worse, Mum has to take him out.

Angsty though!

As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.

So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.

On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.

But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.

Either way, bring on the pain.

[haunting-heroes-creative-games]

✨ Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About The Haunting Heroes Discord But Didn’t Want To Ask ✨

Are you looking to join this DPxDC server but don't know what it's about? Are you new to Discord and want to figure a few dynamics about it first? Then this is the post for you!

We're Super excited to share with you some of the features you can expect when you join the Haunting Heroes DPxDC Discord server.

🔷 I’m new to Discord. What is Discord?

A noble question. Discord is a messaging/private server application where you can join servers to chat, text, and video call people. Lots of fandoms have servers dedicated to their beloved show/book/comics/blorbos

It’s a popular platform because a) it’s free and b) it’s very easy to organize.

Haunting Heroes, as such, is essentially a private chat room where you can talk about DPxDC with other fans. There are other DPxDC servers, but you can never have too many!

🔷 What do you do on Haunting Heroes?

We do a lot! If you’re here, you may have seen the results of the Writing Games we’ve played, like "Who Wrote That?" as well as "Guess That Fic" (a fun way to give fic recs AND test your DPxDC fic knowledge!).

We also share updates of fanart, non fanart, and fan fics, as well as recommendations to stories we’ve read and enjoyed.

And we have plenty of ways to discuss ideas: from canon resources to headcanons that intrigue you; from prompts to workshopping your story ideas; from asking for a beta-reader to sharing your progress. Sometimes this even happens live while doing a sprint with others.

🔷 What does ‘18+ SFW’ mean?

18+ is fairly straightforward: you have to be 18 years or older to join our server. So why SFW?

We decided to emphasize the Safe For Work aspect not because no NSFW content is allowed—we have a flourishing NSFW category as well as a Dark Category with channels for people to talk about it to your hearts’ content! We welcome more mature content, but not everyone wants to engage in it, or only want to engage on their own terms. Being able to curate what you do and don't see is important to us, hence the separate categories (and having to self-select a role to see the NSFW + Dark channels)

We add SFW when talking about HH because ‘18+’ on its own has certain connotations (just like ‘adult content’ or ‘adults only’).

Why, then, are we an 18+ server? We appreciate the under 18s in our fandom, and there are lots of fandom places that are open to all ages (for example, this blog!). But there are older fans who feel more comfortable in an adult oriented space. We noted that a place for adults only in the DPxDC fandom was missing, and wanted to fill that niche.

🔷 Why Should I Join?

✏️ If you’re a writer, you can find a beta reader or ping the Ideas Helper role if you want some help with your story. You can find and share resources for various things, such as writing, art, and how to use A03.

🐱 We also share lots of pictures of our pets!

💡 We have fun emojis and stickers unique to Haunting Heroes, many made by people who are part of the server.

⭐️ We have a starboard! If someone says something you find funny, react to their post with a star emoji; if a post gets 9 stars, it gets shared to the board! It’s like the highlights reel at the end of a Mario Kart Race, but user generated. It's a good way to quickly know what's been going on in the server.

🐰 Our Bunny Hutch (AKA prompts sharing category) is always hopping. Enter at your own risk! You may go there with the intention of dropping off one prompt for someone else to adopt, and leave having adopted 4 new WIPS of your own!

And most importantly, we are a fandom community looking to share with each other the things we love doing or seeing in the fandom. You are likely to find writers, artists, and commenters you know from AO3 or Tumblr, but you might also find new friends to hang out with or be inspired by new things while lurking.

🔷 What can I expect upon joining?

☑️ Once you join, you will have to read our guidelines to make sure you agree with them and know what you can expect in terms of how we handle the server.

☑️ There are also roles to be selected so you can customize your experience. Some roles will allow you to give information to other members (such as the pronouns you select), others will give you an aesthetic (such as color roles), others are pingable and alert you for specific activities (such as movie nights ,or a new writing game being set up, or when someone wants others to bounce ideas). Some will also grant you access to specific sections in our server, such as dark or nsfw channels, which won't be visible otherwise.

☑️ Don't forget to also select the 18+ role which grants you acces to the whole server. This one is made specifically to confirm you agree with the guidelines and are 18 or older, since that's our sole requirement to join the server.

☑️ Once you define your roles, you can check our server roadmap to guide you through the many channels we have in the server with descriptions for each of them and the bots we have available to help through the experience.

☑️ Don't worry if you get a few pings upon entering: we have a welcome mat where others will greet you once you're in.

🔷 How can I join?

To join, send us an ask confirming you're 18+ and someone in our team will send you the link. You can find the ask box as "Ask us anything here" at the top of our blog or clicking here. Please make sure you check your inbox for our reply. If you sent us an ask and haven't gotten a reply in 48hrs, please let us know either replying in this post or contacting one of our mods.

We hope you have fun and fulfill your hero-haunting needs💚👻

[sauronpasta]

Rings of Power Sauron/Galadriel Fic Rec Post of Fics that are Exactly my Taste:

Part 2/? Favorite Works in Progress

You know that feeling? When you're at work and you aimlessly check your personal email and there's a blessed email from Ao3 letting you know that THAT fic updated? And you tell yourself you're going to read it at home later and enjoy it with a good beverage but instead you lock yourself in the bathroom and read it when you're supposed to be [insert relevant work task here]? These are the fics that make me do that.

Don't believe the propaganda! Reading works in progress is good for the community, good for authors who need motivation, and good for the soul when you get the blessed email!

As always, if anyone knows these wonderful authors on tumblr, please tag them.

~

kalopsía by properhaunt, 4/? Chapters, E: This fic is a retelling/reworking of season 2. While I love what the show did, I wish we got more Annatar/Galadriel interaction, and this fic delivers on that. The tension is delicious, the interactions between Sauron and Galadriel ping ponging between longing and tenderness and downright violence, which is just how I like them. The smut is great and it's so integrated, rather than interrupting the action it is part of it, their relationship the main focus. The author also tagged it "down bad crying at the forge" and that made me giggle.

Naked Like Water by goldberry (@wildwren), 4/9 Chapters, E: The premise here is that post-season 2, Galadriel is helping to build Imladris, and starts having visions and dreams of a strange Halbrand figure. She thinks it's just Sauron fucking with her, but all is not as it seems. This fic features a very elven and magical Galadriel, and some really lovely descriptive and figurative prose. There's a scene between Arondir and Galadriel that made me tear up just from the goodness of it. Rings of Power is the darker side of Tolkien, which I love, but it's important to remember that this world is a good world worth saving, and that's what's special about Middle Earth. This fic is really focusing on that goodness, in more ways than one!

Reforged in the Making by Irony_Rocks, 9/? Chapters, E: I am obsessed with this fic. It explores what would happen if Sauron had won in the third age, and Galadriel gave herself up to him to be his queen, featuring half-Maia Celebrian, always a guilty pleasure. This fic just delights me, everything from Sauron's straight up Gothic decor in Dol Guldur to him REALLY trying to do the right thing by Galadriel and Celebrian despite being... you know... the Abhorred Dark Lord. It's also sexy as hell, just saying.

there's a few bad things I've done by Orcas86, 8/? Chapters, E: I was going to make a separate AU list, but I realized I haven't read that many AUs for this fandom quite yet. This is one of my first, and it's amazing. Galadriel is a political advisor/aide to MP Halbrand (apologies for my own errors, I don't know much about the British political system). They are having a secret affair, and the story really focuses on Galadriel as a character in these circumstances. Her family, her backstory, the ramifications this affair could have on her career. Her inner monologue is very compelling, and the author has a great command of their language style. It has a vibe of a really good political thriller but with a depth to the relationships those shows don't often have. You want to trust Halbrand in this BUT he's also very mysterious, so I'm really intrigued to see where it will all go.

SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT: I also have my own WIP, just saying

Craft and Creation by destielpasta (my ao3 handle), 7/? Chapters, E, Season 2 Canon Divergent

[sweetorangepoptart]

Year-End Writer's Roundup: 2024 edition

Thank you @pikapeppa for tagging me!!!

It’s that time of year, writer friends: time to take stock of what we’ve been up to this year! Tagging to literally ANY AND ALL WRITERS who would like to participate — seriously, if you write and you see this, please take this as an invitation to fill it out!

@starshinemaiden @kingbadgermole @deerstalkerdeathfrisbee @creampuffqueen @korrasamibottles @ozais-lobotomist @appalesbian @gaybd1 @kjthenbee @lokfeedsthegays @mellyoraa I know I forgot some of you just do this if you've written anything this year!!!

Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!!):

I'm not even going to try to count my WIP so we'll just go by AO3 wordcount which is... 335,514. Not too shabby.

Smut scenes:

Looks like 9! Two pwp oneshots and the rest in my longfics.

New things I tried:

Korrasami in Love, Asami!! I was really nervous about that one. I've been kind of questioning my gender for a while, and writing from the perspective of men felt really good. So shifting back into a woman's voice, especially one as nuanced and complex as Asami, was kind of jarring. But I'm glad I did. She was so interesting to write.

I also tried out a darker AU in You'll Be the Death of Me. I really love this one.

Mystery/political intrigue adjacent stuff in Security, too.

Original characters 😭 I've been so worried about my original characters and how they'll be received. But it's been fun to play with them! And the response has been positive.

Fic I spent the most time on:

Probably Windswept. The word count plus the amount of time I spent rewatching season 3 and researching various topics, it's definitely taken a lot of my time.

Fic I spent the least time on:

Probably my pwp Relax. That one came really easily (no pun intended) and I think it's my second lowest word count

Favorite thing I wrote: 

A Friend of the Avatar! Korra's perspective was fun and all the details I include were so fun to write: Mako telling Korra about Wu's allergy, Korra telling Mako to put Wu's letters on the fridge, Wu very smoothly being like "yes I like girls very much" when he was trying to cover his ass after all the brainwashing business was over and Korra was apologizing to him for leaving without him, Asami dissecting Wu's letter for a threesome proposition... Ahhhh I just had so much fun with that one!!! I even had fun coming up with the title (A friend of the Avatar=a friend of Dorothy. See what I did there???)

Favorite thing I read:

I don't want to play favorites because I read A LOT of good stuff, especially from @starshinemaiden @deerstalkerdeathfrisbee and @korrasamibottles submissions for Wuko week. So instead of playing favorites here, I'm going to go off to a different fandom.

Surface Tension , a Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time fic. Pairing: Princess RutoXSheik/Zelda. OH MY GOD. I replayed OoT this year and I had an EPIPHANY that Ruto was in love with Sheik after he saved her life, and that Sheik returned them considering how he spoke about her to Link. I held my breath and searched for the Ruto/Sheik tag on Ao3... TEN WORKS. 10. ONE-ZERO. I was like about to cry wanting to read a good Ruto/Sheik fic... I scrolled through the 10 works and Surface Tension caught my eye for the 14k word count alone. I was HOOKED from the beginning. I was on the edge of my seat. The author did AMAZING and captured their voices and characterizations perfectly, and it was beautiful and funny and romantic and suspenseful and it had action and it was SOOOO well written. And it was written 14 years ago. Did I leave a comment? You bet I did. it was a loooooong comment too. And the author replied and said it made their week 🧡 the moral of this story is read old fics and comment on them.

Writing goals for next year: 

I need to finish my three in progress long fics. I feel very confident that I'll do it because of how good I felt finishing Secret, but I do admit juggling all 3 of them kinda sucks, just because I want them all to be finished already and I hate that each one goes like 2 months between updates. But I'll do it and if you can all stick with me and keep commenting it will make it way easier!!!

I, unfortunately, also have an idea for another longfic that was inspired by an ask about the fire nation princess... Something something Mako becomes her bodyguard, something something Wu pining as he watches them grow close and presumably fall in love the way Wu wishes it could have happened with him... I think I'll sprinkle in lots of misunderstandings and see what happens lol. I've started outlining it but I'm going to wait until my other three longfics are done before I get started with it so I can focus.

I also really want to write a Wuko fic from Bolin's perspective. I love Bolin and his voice so I really want to get in his head and see what I can do with his reactions and thoughts to his brother dating the Earth King.

And... To those of you who are only acquainted with my Wuko work, this might sound out of pocket, but I reeeeeeally want to write some hardcore BDSM too. I don't know how I'll do that because I'm endlessly obsessed with writing Wuko and in my head, Mako and Wu would never be into it (I can't even picture them doing a little light spanking 🤣). So I'll need to write a completely different pairing possibly a different fandom if I want to do that. But BDSM is probably my favorite flavor of smut to read and I used to have a lot of fun writing it. I've grown a lot as a writer so I'd love to take a crack at it and see what I can come up with.

Also WukoWeek is around the corner and I definitely need to write for that.

[kimium]

I was tagged in this post HERE by my friend @m34gs. Thanks for the tag, friend!

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

This is so funny because I usually have very little WIPs. Truly, I am a minimalist when it comes to WIPs so there isn't a lot on this list. There are also some that are already posted to Ao3 but are here because they're still in progress.

Here are my WIPs as titled in my documents:

The Truth Will Set You Free (Twisted Wonderland - Platonic Yandere AU)

How to Become a God (Twisted Wonderland - God AU - Idia's Chapter)

Extra Stories (Twisted Wonderland - Mafia AU)

Items for Sale (SDR2)

Some sort of AI: Somnium Files fic (I don't have a document made for it yet)

I tag: @a-little-harmed-shinra, @someobscurereference and @shreedle

[riversimmone]

Three's A Crowd

Three's A Crowd - Chapter 1

RiverOfTheSand

Summary:

SasuSaku. He didn't mean to kill that man. He had simply reacted to being attacked. And now Konoha is forced to hunt down the rogue members of Team 7, or risk open war. Eventual NaruHina.

Notes:

Cross-posting from fanfiction.net. Where it is complete. I wrote this back in 2011 and I wasn't sure whether to put it on AO3 or not. But why not, right? Please just keep in mind that it's not a representation of my current ability or style. I am cross-posting for the sake of having it on AO3. Don't get me wrong, I do really like this story. I have many fond memories of when I was writing it and certain songs are very nostalgic for me with this fic. And it's 20 chapters long and complete so it was a milestone I am proud of still. Please read and kudo and comment. I hope you enjoy. :)

End chapter notes:

Thankyou so much for reading. :)

This is a work in progress story you can also find on AO3 and FF.NET.

Enjoy. :)

Chapter One. Moving On.

Sakura Haruno. That was the name her parents had given her. They were lost amongst a sea of civilians and ninja alike who had died when Konoha was levelled and left masses of orphaned children in their wake. Sakura and her two team mates, Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha were amongst those who had no-one left, and decided to abandon Konoha.

Of course, Team 7, minus their teacher Kakashi Hatake, had been the only ones to actually leave. They spent years on the road, doing odd jobs to survive, while honing their ninja skills. They had even stolen jutsu from countries that despised their own, but their ultimate goal was just to keep moving, and find the one who had killed their respective families.

Revenge, yes that was it. No-one inside of Konoha, who had been left standing anyway, had wanted to actively search for that fiend.

It had been six years since they'd set off together, and Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto were now nineteen years old. They didn't trust anyone but each other, and even though Naruto had a bad habit of sleeping with disreputable women in dingy hotel rooms, they were only comfortable around each other.

No, Sakura was not the cream filling in some sort of sex trio, although Naruto had suggested he and Sasuke fuck her from both ends one night when he'd had too much sake. She'd violently motivated him never to suggest that again! That said, she had knocked him unconscious mostly to cover her own embarrassment. While she knew she'd never act on it, the idea of sleeping with Naruto had had her slightly intrigued. She was not a cream filling!

Sakura fumed at the memory, staring out over the picturesque view before her. She was standing outside a tea shop, only an hour outside of the small village she had spent the last few days scouring. It was called Gakutsuna town, and was home to low life reprobates. This land was abundant with them. The Land of Rice Paddies they called it. Sakura called it Freakville.

A loud crash coming from within the shop did not bother her. It was just routine after all. The owner of this shop had information they needed and was being stubborn. He just needed a little persuasion. Sakura smiled at that, imagining that that intimidating Uchiha stare as well as Naruto's brusque interrogation "techniques" were scaring that old coot. And normally she'd be in there, doing the whole fisticuffs thing she liked so much, but the owner was a seventy year old pervert and Sasuke had asked her to leave when she'd tried to kill him for asking her for sex. They needed him alive to talk.

Sakura shivered involuntarily. Yeah, she was happier out here.

Still, she was bored, staring out over this valley, wondering how much longer her boys were going to play for. They needed this information yes, but they also needed to be out of this valley by night fall. Rumour had it that leaf ninja were coming this way tonight. Sakura remembered Konoha fondly, but had no desire to run into old friends or even complete strangers when she was a missing-nin who had to be captured or killed on sight. Whoever these leaf ninja were, their mission had nothing to do with Kitsúne.

Kitsúne was the name Konoha knew them by, but as far as Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto knew, they didn't know what they looked like, let alone who they really were. That notorious S-Rank bingo book was only filled out by the living, and they weren't in it. Of course, when it came to people they didn't need to kill Sakura was very good at making them forget. A little Genjutsu went a long way. She was a natural with that particular type of jutsu.

Sasuke and Naruto exited the tea shop ten minutes later, in an orderly fashion. Naruto then ruined the image by poking tongue at Sakura and pulling down the bottom of his eye lid in mock. She glared at him.

"Who the hell are you mocking, dweeb?" She said threateningly.

He just chuckled and ignored her question. He was so immature, such a dobe, that if Sakura had not seen him kill on the battlefield before, she would never have believed he was capable of it. But he wasn't some blood thirsty animal – in fact, the only one of the three of them that sometimes had to be pulled back from that dark brink was Sasuke.

"We got what we needed," Sasuke said in a monotone voice.

She loved him, but would it kill him to at least sound like he cared? She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah yeah, and while you boys got to play I've been bored to tears."

Sasuke spared her a smile, although it wasn't really his style. "You can do the next one."

She grinned. "Thank you Sasuke-kun!" She refrained from jumping him. They were out in the open and Naruto was here. That could wait until they were alone again.

"Teme!" Naruto whined. "I wanted to do the next one!" He huffed. "You're not in charge you know!"

"I know, dobe," Sasuke said, genuinely amused.

They had decided long ago that this would be a democracy. There were three of them, so when it came to making decisions, they were never deadlocked. But quite often, Naruto was the odd one out, voting for things that would never happen. Occasionally, either Sakura or Sasuke would change their vote to make their friend feel like one of the gang. He hated that he was outvoted more often than not.

Sakura glanced back at the little shop as they moved away, toward the setting sun. It was in the early stages of the orange tint that only sunset could bring.

"Did you kill him?" She asked, thinking about the old pervert and realising there was no sound within the shop anymore.

It was obvious they had, considering Sakura was the only one of them that could mess with people's memories. There was no way the boys would leave this guy alive if he could finger them in a line-up. Sasuke's Sharingan came in handy, but he hadn't figured out how to use it to do what came so easily to Sakura. This bugged him, but there were also a lot of things he used his Bloodline Limit to do that the others could never do, like put up a genjutsu that hid them from view from even other ninja.

"Of course, Sakura," Naruto said, waving away her concern. "He just didn't scream, that's why you didn't hear it."

"He didn't scream because I told him not to," Sasuke said, sounding slightly annoyed. His face remained impassive though.

"Don't argue boys," Sakura said, as Naruto opened his mouth to retort. She grabbed Sasuke's hand, linking their fingers together. "The important question is what did he tell you?"

"We were right," Sasuke said, without elaborating.

On Sakura's other side, Naruto brightened, humming softly to himself and admiring the trees as they found the path they'd taken to get here and entered the woods. They were well on their way to leaving the valley, and the nearby Gakutsuna town, so he was happy, but content – which explained why he wasn't bouncing all over the place. The energetic knucklehead was taking a time out, so it seemed.

Sakura ignored him and squeezed Sasuke's hand. "Well?"

"The cloud ninja are cleaning house with their missing-nin. If we enter Lightning Country, we'll have to keep a low profile."

Sakura nodded. "I still don't understand how he knew that."

"You'd be surprised the sort of things shop owners overhear," Sasuke said. "He didn't even realise how valuable that information would've been, if he'd just bartered for it, instead of holding back."

Naruto chuckled at that, barely listening. "Old goat."

"Stop." Sasuke pulled Sakura still and shot a glare at Naruto as the blonde glanced at him, still walking.

"You're not in charge, teme."

"There's someone coming this way," Sasuke said softly. "Ninja by the feel of them. We should hide."

"Leaf?" Sakura asked, worried. They had wanted to avoid this.

He nodded. "Don't worry, they don't know we're here... yet."

They jumped up and off the road, and he activated his Sharingan to protect them. Sakura watched the four figures heading their way, ambling along the road as though they had no idea anyone was around – which they didn't. They were definitely ninja though. As they came closer, she recognised their faces. A heavy weight on her heart almost made her sigh deeply. She missed Konoha, but Kitsúne could never return. Sasuke pulled gently on her hand and she followed him and Naruto away from their old friends, and into the sunset.

X X X

[schnozzbun-art]

hey! hope you're doing well c: i really enjoy your lisa fics and was wondering, if you don't mind me asking, what your plans are for them? if they're still being continued etc, since it's been a while since they've been updated on ao3. i totally get that life gets busy, i'm just curious is all ^.^ your writing is so intriguing and fun and that it packs huge emotional punches sometimes and i love that it makes me think - keep up the super great work :D

hey there! fair enough question. I can tell you that I'm definitely still working on them. Hell, I even have proof. Here's an excerpt from the current WIP for part 6 of FPU:

Over the last two years I've just been very very busy moving, job seeking, dating--all of that touch grass stuff. A lot of irl stuff has finally started to settle down though and I've been able to make some more progress on the upcoming chapter. As of late, I was stuck on a specific section, (not too dissimilar to the spot I was stuck on in chapter 4 of FPU, iykyk), but it's starting to come together a lot which has been great. Basically, it's getting there. I think about the fic every day, and writing it still excites me 👍

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Writing Masterpost

[Back to Pinned Post]

My writing tag has my writing posts, various WIPs, snippets, answered prompts, and mini fills from tumblr games. Also, general posts bemoaning the writing process or talking About writing.

Besides those, I have my fic/writing on AO3 and some crossposted here. Titles link to AO3 page, asterisks mark my current favorites.

DRAGON AGE

Chapter Fics:

Fallout from the Fade*

[In progress; posting hiatus] Hawke was left in the Fade to defeat Nightmare’s spider demon, but survives. She must fight her way back through the Veil to the physical world, but the experience has affected her greatly both physically and mentally. She must learn to cope with everything she has faced, and Fenris (her LI) comes to Skyhold to help. Lots of angst for now, but eventual happy (or at least, hopeful) ending. Tumblr: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [Chapters 14-29 not crossposted]

Lost to Night

  [Complete] “I do adore the heavy blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events.” Solas and Lavellan slip away for some alone time after the events at the Winter Palace, but before the party really ends. Fluff, musings, and (eventual) smut. 4/4 chapters completed; ~11,000 words. Tumblr: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Less a man than a wild cat

  [Complete] Fenris leaves town for a few days while Hawke deals with business in Kirkwall. One night at The Hanged Man, while she and the rest of the gang recover after a hard day and wait for him to return, a small grey cat saunters in. And the bright white markings on its fur look extremely familiar. (so does the way he takes a swipe at Anders, and purrs whenever Hawke looks at him). Fluff, humor, pining, and just enough angst to make you care. 6/6 chapters completed; ~15,000 words. 

Provided it Tied You Down First

[Complete] In order to gain valuable information on the transport of Red Lyrium from Tevinter into Ferelden, Solas and Lady Trevelyan must infiltrate a group of magisters who hold hedonistic gatherings, and in order to be convincing, they have to play along… this one is just entirely PWP, with a much heavier emphasis on the ‘porn’ than the ‘plot’. Read AO3 tags before embarking, contains some more questionable kink content. ~17,000 words.

Banister Banter

  [Open-ended, no longer working on] Dorian and other Inner Circle members pretend not to be interested in the Inquisitor’s personal affairs, but they are all sneaky liars who gossip good-naturedly to each other about her blossoming romance with Solas. They eavesdrop & secretly keep tabs on the pair without them catching on. I mean, having all those personal conversations in the middle of the rotunda? That’s just asking for an audience. Fluff & fun. Tumblr: [Part 1] [Part 2]

One-shots and prompts:

Reunion*

Non-canonical (probably, Veilguard isn’t out yet) depiction of the reunion between Solas and Lavellan, and how this meeting culminates. ~6500 words, this is pure sorrow and angst and my personal weird narrative desires. I asked myself: what is the absolute worst case ending that could happen for Lavellan and Solas? And this is what I came up with. On tumblr here.

Like Teeth Against His Heart*

After Solas wakes up, he has many conversations with a variety of spirits. Sometimes they tell him what he wants to hear, and sometimes they don’t. ~1800 words. I wrote this prose-poem for the Solamancy charity zine in 2021, and it’s one of the few things I’ve written I put actual editing time into rather than just slapping it in place, so I remain very fond of it. RECCOMENDED VIEWING: see the correct spacing as it appeared on the pages from the zine on tumblr here.

Grief*

Prompt: “fenris/fem!hawke; Hawke is trapped in a coma post-Fade. Her mind is still shackled there, but her body is found by a new rift. Fenris arrives to Skyhold for her funeral, but what he finds is even more unbearable. Cue angsty bedside Fenris– stages of grief. Mad at her, pleading for her to wake up. Hawke can hear it all and after a time, she returns to him.” ~2500 words.  On tumblr here.

Like the leaves after a long winter

Prompt: “it’s the first Christmas/Satinalia since Leandra’s death, and Hawke is not in the mood for festivities – until she realises that everyone else will be spending it alone and finds herself hosting a party without even meaning to.” ~7700 words. On tumblr here. 

Fragments

A Solavellan ficlet, sort of musing on the way the lost Elvish language plays a role in their relationship. ~2700 words. Sweet & sad. On tumblr here.

Letters to Fenris

Minific; a series of 6 letters sent to Fenris from Hawke (and Varric) at different points during the timeline of Inquisition. ~1640 words. An attempt at humor, but also sad, because I can only write angst I guess. On tumblr here.

A Slip of the Tongue

Sollavellan ficlet. In which Solas forgets to watch his words, and has to face their consequences. ~3300 words. An argument, some pining, and an unintended revelation. Poking a bit of good-natured fun at the “da'len/hah'ren” trope. On tumblr here.

Only the Living

Prompt: “Everything is going to be okay + Fenris & Lavellan.” The DA2 companions come to Skyhold for Hawke’s funeral after Hawke stays in the Fade during DA:I. ~2000 words. On tumblr here.

Celestial Connections

Prompt:  “Things you said under the stars and in the grass” for Solavellan. Solas and Lavellan steal a moment alone together during their travels in the Emerald Graves, and contemplate the stars. Musings, bittersweet but hopeful. ~2100 words. On tumblr here.

A Letter to Zevran

Minific; a friend said “Jade make me sad” + suggestion of Zevran/Mahariel from another. Only 370 words.

MASS EFFECT

the people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this, you keep them alive*

Prompt: What love was ever as deep as the grave? Snippets of a variety of Garrus’ thoughts and memories of Shepard, and a growing realization about the nature of love like theirs. Shepard is Earthborn & Sole Survivor. The numbers are rough chronology but you can just read straight through. Angst angst angst. ~2500 words. On tumblr here.

[Back to Pinned Post]

[combeferres-mothematics]

Thanks for the tag, @syrupsyche and @granhairdo!!! :D This looks fun!! (And I can always use more motivation to actually WORK on my wips... lmao)

Get ready for a chaotic amount of HIGHLY niche aus, that are very badly named (There are way more just untitled that I don't feel like opening up to see what they are...)

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

The Sweepings of the Street (some is posted on Ao3, but it's still in progress so it's going here)

Bini Laundry Adventures

Barricade day Fic

Adventures in Pontmercy Babysitting (Valvert edition)

Adventures in Pontmercy Babysitting (Les Amis edition) As you can tell I'm very creative naming things

Triumvirate Camping

Even the Darkest Nights will End and the Sun will Rise

Courfeyrac et les bebes

Combeferre loses his eyebrows once again

Combeferre loses his eyebrows

Les Amis Camping Trip

A Les Amis Christmas

SCIENCE MUSEUM SCIENCE MUSEUM SCIENCE MUSEUM

Untitled Document [1]

Summer Camp Au

Les Mis NATM Au

OK I THINK THAT'S ALL OF THEM Well, let's see who I can remember writes lol

@grandtear @belovedhomo @faevibing @darkgreenandbloodred @curufiin @meerawrites @twistyoliver (I can't remember if you write or not?) @a-roseinmisery @maip--macrothorax And anyone else who wants to join!

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: AO3: ParallelanPrincess  |  Bluesky: ParallelanPrincess

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Local Elf Extremely Unqualified For New Job

Para and Dema talk Hinterland Elves, Nickelback, and tug-of-war with wayward OCs

Dema: We're about two months into the writing period(!!!! halfway!!). Have you found your process has changed during this time?

Para: Oh definitely. In the beginning I was writing daily and being upset when I missed a day. Now, I'll do roughly 7-10 days of writing straight and then take a break.  I work a fulltime job so I'm always writing either in the evenings or on the weekends. I've found that the best way to get work done is by sprinting with others. Prior to that, I was just sitting down to write for an indeterminate amount of time and making little progress. Sprinting is definitely more effective in getting words on the page in a reasonable amount of time. I also use an excel sheet to track my writing in regards to time spent, word count, what day, etc so I've been trying to use that to maximize my productivity.

Dema: Sprinting is such a powerful tool. One of the things that I find so interesting about it is that it appeals to people in different ways – some just like the time + short break, some like the community or body doubling, as some are competitive and looking to get the highest word count. What about it is helpful for you, do you think?

Para: It’s the community that helps. Even if the other person isn't writing, or is using the timer for something else. So since I'm extra, I use gifs to announce that I'm in the server and want to sprint, and usually people respond very enthusiastically to that since it kind of opens the floor to join. But for this bang, sprinting has been all about the word count since this will be my longest COMPLETED fic.

Dema: Oh wow, that's exciting! Is this your first big bang, then?

Para: This is my…I want to say third bang? The first one was the Not Victuuri bang and the second was a Tadaai Bang. This is my first non-anime bang! So for tackling it, I had to redo my approach. I couldn't just rewatch a show. I had to replay the game and make notes as I went!

Dema: I love a note-taking replay. Did anything stand out to you this play through? Any little tidbits of dialogue or lore that you were excited to be reminded of?

Para: I noticed that there's a lot of opportunity to help elves in the Hinterlands. And if you do there are a few dialogue options that correspond if you're Dalish. So I wanted my Lavellan to react to these elves who weren't in a clan or alienage and how that sort of fit into his world view.

I also noticed that if you dillydally too much, Solas will start to insist you go to Val Royeaux, which is really interesting to me. Very early on in my writing, I noticed I was retelling the main game beat for beat, so I had to do a VERY hard pivot and start getting extra creative. But also just the whole thing of being an "outsider" and suddenly having to deal with politics and religion that are utterly alien to you was an intriguing concept. 

Dema: I'm so curious if there was a particular elf in the Hinterlands that influenced or challenged your Lavellan's worldview. For me it was Hyndel. 

Para: Oh it was definitely Hyndel. I can't go into detail because I worry it will enter spoiler territory. But Hyndel and the cult were very intriguing concepts to explore. Also, I think her name is Maura, the elf whose husband is killed by the templars. She was also a good concept.

Dema: Is Inquisition your favorite game in the franchise?

Para: Oh definitely. I played Origins first and loved it. My first Origins playthrough was Surana and I went in deciding that would be the default world state. I've never, ever seen a copy of DA2 in the wild, so I never played that. Good thing we have the Keep. But yes, Inquisition holds a special place in my heart. The game that showed me that I could handle open world rpgs. I'm typically a Simmer and a farm rpg girl, so Inquisition was the first time I went "Okay, maybe AAA games aren't overhyped." I've done about 4 playthroughs, but I crafted a new one just for the bang. Also, the mage combat was far, far easier in DAI. 

Dema: I LOVE being a mage in DA:I! All the classes are fun but Mage is always my first playthrough 😂 As a fellow simmer: have you made your DA OC's in the Sims

Para: I really, really should. My laptop would explode if I tried to add the necessary CC. Also, my fave game in that series is Sims 3. Those third installments hit different.

Dema: They really do. That game was a masterpiece. Besides your new play through and the DA universe in general, is anything in particular inspiring you for your bang fic?

Para: I really draw a lot of inspiration from music. I'm the type of person who always uses song lyrics for their titles. If it works it works. Feel free to redact if this is goes to spoiler territory, but the guiding song behind this fic was Nickelback's Rockstar. For the guiding song, my brain has a full on animatic in mid. Shame I can't draw. But yes, I was debating what kind of Lavellan I wanted to make. Heard the song randomly and went Oh.....OH! I can use this!

Dema: Did you already have a general idea or direction and then created your Lavellan, or was it a back-and-forth? Or something else?

Para: Once I had the guiding song, it came down to crafting my Lavellan from that. And he then proceeded to fight me. The end result is only a hint of the character I set out to write. But hey, that's part of the process! So I had a concept and a direction that immediately went left. Decided to roll with it because it was putting words on the page and making sense. So it was a tug of war in many ways and my Lavellan won out in the end. (He is a lil shit)

Dema: Well he's a Big Rockstar. What did you expect. (mine always give me a hard time too lmao)

Para: I expected him to go with the plan!!

Dema: Besides wrangling your OC, what is the greatest challenge writing a fic like this?

Para: Sticking to the outline. Dear lord, the outline. I do not do well with outlines and I foolishly thought this would be different. My original outline was both vague and overly ambitious. For this reason, my fic was dragging a bit at the beginning. I had to revise my outline three times and then finally tossed it once I got about 14k in because I finally knew how to scale it down for the time I had left. Another thing was deviating enough from canon to make my fic unique without making the characters and setting unrecognizable. Looking at my first outline, I had pretty much retold the game so it's good I ditched it.

Dema: Sounds like you've been very flexible in this process and it's serving you well!

Para: I have to be. This is a big word count to hit and sometimes staying on target means doing whatever keeps the plot progressing, even if you have to go in totally blind.

Dema: In the last few minutes, and only if it sounds fun, can you give your fic a misleading click-bait title? (Without major spoilers of course)

Para: Local Elf Extremely Unqualified For New Job

Dema: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Para: He did not sign up for this!!

Dema: Actually cackling right now. This could be a spider-man meme with so many Lavellans.

Para: It really could.

Dema: Thank you so much for your time today, Para! It's been fun chatting and I can't wait to read your fic!

Para: Thank you for taking the time out to speak with me!

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect

Rottmnt Fanfic Summary: Leo always felt a different from his brothers. He was stronger, faster, and more violent than his brothers. Unlike his brothers, he was a natural-born fighter. Thankfully he was good at hiding it. Everything was fine until he did something he'd forever regret and lose the trust of his brothers.

Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is unfinished, and as such, this post will be updated as fanfic updates. This fanfic is written by @arhintess so go show them some love and support!!

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Plot is three out of five!! The plot for this fic is an interesting one!! The idea of Leo being wildly strong, and having to constantly hold back around his brothers, is an intriguing one!! The plot for this fanfic seems to be following the canon plotline, starting a few years before season 1, then extending into the first episode and so on. Like, a 'what if' version of the classic rottmnt! I'd also have to say, though this is a rottmnt fic, the character traits and personalities are incredibly reminiscent of the 2012 turtles ^^"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is one out of five!! As the plotline follows the canon rottmnt plotline, there isn't a lot of mystery nor suspense. This story is much more of a 'what if' type story.

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Angst/Hurt is two out of five!! While this fic does have a good amount of hurt in it, none of it is wildly overwhelming, nor extremely triggering. It has a good blend of hurt, just enough to make it intriguing!"

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is two out of five!! This fic has the same amount of comfort that it has of hurt. An even balance of the both!!"

Emotions Conveyed: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is one out of five!! This fanfic is not on the immersive side, and will not mess with your head horribly. Instead, this fanfic is fun to read, and follow along with!! Less of the type of fanfic you read to feel something intense, but rather the type you read to enjoy a good story plot!!"

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Drama/Tension Level is three out of five!! In this fic, there is a lot of tension, especially between Leo and his brothers. His brothers don't trust him, and Leo doesn't feel welcome around them, making for a very tense atmosphere indeed!!"

Triggers: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Triggers are two out of five!! This fanfic does touch on a few sensitive subjects, like sibling abuse (though it is accidental) and family neglect, along with some injuries. However, nothing so far has been very graphic."

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Legibility (Reading) is three out of five!! Quite the enjoyable read!! Each chapter runs slightly on the shorter side, and while it is enjoyable to read, there are a few typos and grammatical issues that may be distracting to some folks. But if you're someone who doesn't mind at all, the plot is highly enjoyable, and very much worth a read!"

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Legibility (Audio) is three out of five! Same as for reading, once again, very enjoyable to listen to! Now, also once again, those grammatical errors can be quite distracting in audio book form, but once again, if you're someone who doesn't mind, this fic is a wonderful read!!"

Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Length is two out of five!! Currently Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect has a word count of 15.5k words, and about less than 10 chapters, though that will change as the story progresses."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Built to Kill, Sworn to Protect: Chapter List

(Chapters will be added as I rate and appraise them ^^)

Chapter 1

[eliotqueliot]

WIP Tag Game

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I am still working on a number of the same WIPs, so I'll talk about progress and priorities a bit to make it more interesting. Also, I make art as well as fic, so I'll tag a few artists. Please note: I'm tagging you only because I love your work. Absolutely no worries if you don't wish to post! Also, please, anyone looking at this--please jump in if you like💖 @magicians4time @vooruitmariek @itsminimes @violetsarepurple-fuckyou @wolfnprey

also tagging (please stop being funny about this, Tumblr!!!)

@bravelostgirl @cyprianlatewood @jessalae @lovequeliot @springybreak

okay Tumblr, I have your number, thank you, also tagging

@tbraves24 @lizardkingeliot @yourtinseltinkerbell

Tagged by @unlifeira. Thank you!

All my WIPs are The Magicians, specifically Queliot fanfic/fanart.

I'm super, beyond excited to announce we've started working on this project again! So dear to my heart! I'm illustrating the brilliant fic by @magicians4time

We Could Build a Castle - EliotQueliot, Librarity - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

2. I'm making art for every still photo on the AO3 side of my collection of haiku about the Mosaic life of Eliot and Quentin. This is a long-term project. There are going to be more than a hundred paintings in it when I'm done. So far I've posted nine of them. My aim is to add something, some touch, some light and color, an expression, to each scene. (There will also be more haiku eventually!)

Mosaic Haiku (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

(the photos I'll be painting are visible in the Tumblr mirror chapters)

3. I have a Secret Queliot Novel collaboration project with a beloved Queliot artist. I'm working on the middle chapter right now. The "finished" chapters are about 80k so far. Teaser: it concerns a mix of book and show to retell the Keys Boat Quest!

4. Ongoing and very important to me, I just posted Ch. 4 for this AU:

you want it darker? || dark king eliot - EliotQueliot, victoriaandalbert - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

It's a challenging fic to write, so I got slowed down a bit, but in general I try to post a chapter every other month.

5. I'm actively working on the next chapter of this. Hoping it will be the next fic chapter I post:

Sailing to Blackspire - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Below are the rest of my WIPs, basically in the order they appear in my list of works on AO3. I'm making art for some of them. I'll finish all of them. I just have so much going on! Also, I have ideas sketched out for quite a number of Queliot fanfic and fanart pieces after these. Just trying to maintain some kind of order in all this chaos!

6. ...Baby One More Time - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

This will be short but needs a few chapters. Time loops!

7. All We Need Is One Good Day (Any Day That You're Alive) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

One more chapter and another moodboard to go!

8. Secret Lives - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Several more chapters, it seems. I have a rough outline and a number of scenes sketched out.

9. The First Duty of All Magicians Is to Save Their Friends (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Making art for every chapter! The next chapter you read will earn the E-rating!

10. Eliot Rocks the Memory Palace (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Oh, so many chapters to go, can't wait to fully write them! I have many, many scenes sketched or partly written. A few more pieces of art to make.

11. How They Met Themselves (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

The drawing and scenario are posted. I'll be painting it. I might even write a tiny fic to go with it.

12. Going South (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

I have a number of scenes written and a lot of plot sketched out. Will also be making a few more piece of art.

13. The Once and Future Kings of Fillory - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Lots of draft, but it's going in a different direction than I planned. We'll see if I can get it back on track.

14. The fic for this one is finished, but I'm slowly working on painting the art for

How Did That Basket of Peaches Get There? Or, A Secret Royal Wedding, Bitches! (with Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

15. The painting is finished, but at some point I'll write the fic for

Secret Admirers (Art) - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

16. Mosaic Mendings - EliotQueliot - The Magicians (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

I have some plot notes. But it turns out there's a lot more to this story than anticipated!

[melisusthewee]

"Strau-celo" OMG I love that you already have a name for it :') but damn right I can't wait for whatever you've wrote about them! I'm so glad I'm not the only one on this ship 😭 (it's not a platonic thing for me, we are talking full romance btw hsjdhd)

YOU ARE IN VERY GOOD COMPANY HERE, ANON.

Who founded the Marcelo/Fito ship on AO3? This girl. I am genuinely surprised that more people didn't gravitate towards it because... well...

Everyone involved knew exactly what they were doing with this.

The author community on AO3 is very small, but there's been quite a lot written by various authors exploring the different dynamics of Marcelo and the Strauches to various degrees. I think what you will really enjoy is the Extended Primoverse Collection which is mostly intended as a pre-canon (or predominantly pre-canon) collection of stories that look at the close relationships of the cousins with each other... and Marcelo is there too sometimes. There are currently three works in the collection but more being written: The World in Brown Eyes, Tricks and Treats, and Lalo the Artist.

Some other great Strauch-celo fics I can recommend are:

I will remember how you kissed me (Marcelo/Eduardo; rated T)

Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass (Marcelo/Fito; rated E for a specific chapter, and also Chapter 3 has an excellent breakfast scene with all four Strauch cousins because WE NEVER FORGET DANIEL SHAW)

Both of these fics and the Primoverse Collection were created by @if-not-now-tell-me-when who does wonderful work and loves looking at and breaking down the different dynamics of these boys!

Some other great fic recs are also:

and we're wholly unworthy by Anonymous (rated G) which is actually a Daniel/Tintin fic but for obvious reasons his cousins are important and the first couple chapters really show their dynamic from Daniels' POV wonderfully - how protective he is, and how responsible he feels for them.

Heroes by ferret_not_microwave (genfic; no rating) which explores how each of the three Strauches does or does not deal with their survivor's guilt and grief upon returning.

a kiss that you don't need by Anonymous (Marcelo/Fito & Marcelo/Eduardo; rated G) which is beautifully complicated and sad

Of Coffee, Museums and Waves by ferret_not_microwave (Marcelo/Fito; rated T) which is canon-divergent but beneath all the fluff I feel very importantly pauses to ask the question as to whether or not Marcelo would have been okay if he'd survived.

The last two fics and the last one in particular have sort of been gnawing away at my brain, and led me to start thinking more about how complicated some of the dynamics between them all would be. Because of it, I very recently wrote a fic that digs more into the question about how difficult any sort of return to normal would be, how Marcelo's presence might actually make the dynamic between the three cousins more complicated (for maybe not-so-platonic reasons) and just... I don't know, it's hard for me sometimes to explain what questions I'm exploring or why certain ideas end up being so compelling to me without getting too personal about it because I'm always afraid of saying too much or sharing too much or looking a bit silly. But if the last two fics intrigued you or you've already read them and found them enjoyable, then I also recommend this one:

The Worst of the Mountain Staring Back (Marcelo/Fito, with some minor Marcelo/Eduardo; rated T)

If you are looking specifically for what I've written about them (which is very sweet and flattering, thank you!), then I can treat you to the following:

Mañana (a Marcelo/Fito character study; rated T; 2914 words)

Before It Felt Like a Sin (4279 words of E-rated Marito smut you have been warned)

A Beautiful Agony (rated T; in progress 2/20 chapters; major focus on Marcelo & Eduardo; and Marcelo/Fito)

Lalo the Artist (rated G; 2457 words; just the three cousins being three cousins)

And of course The Worst of the Mountain Staring Back is one of mine as well.

But no, anon, you are definitely not the only person into these different ships! You are in very good company! Honestly, the fic community is small but the half dozen or so authors in it are really very talented and even though so much of the subject matter is emotionally heavy, everything that people put out is handled so well and with so much respect for the real events and individuals behind the fictional versions. And I feel like that's a very important distinction. These fics are written specifically about the fictionalized versions you see in the movie. They're characters much in the same way you would view fanfic for The Terror or Band of Brothers. As someone who has been around fandom for a very long time, you would think that would be obvious, but I've seen enough nasty comments from people to realize that this concept is sometimes difficult for some people to grasp.