Multiverse, multifandom OC 18+ Only. Original character and writing are mine and not for reproduction without permission. I do NOT consent to having any of my original writing or artwork used in any way with any form of AI generation.
Multi-fandom OC.
(Fandom based, but with original lore.)
(Full list of fandoms and AUs on the link below.)
This blog is now Mutuals Only (26th Dec 2025)
(Unless we have already been writing together! Sideblogs please message and let me know. I may take a little while to follow back!)
1. Mun is 40+. Victoria, Australia (Australian EST). 21+ partners preferred, selective with 18-21. No Minors.
2. Please read rules before interacting.
On the readmore below.
Last rules update: 23rd April 2026
3. Muse Info, all verses and AUs.
Some AU verses have different versions of the muse.
Marvel, Dune and Tolkien verses are movie/TV based.
4. Policies on this blog.
Not 'rules' but how I do things here.
5. Memes - please don’t reblog from me if you’re not going to send one. Reblog from the source instead.
Memes - Ship Memes - Headcanon Memes - NSFW Memes / NSFW HCs -
Munday Memes - Open Starters
6. Muse Stats
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue-Grey
Age: In AU verses, usually 30+
Place of Birth: In her main verse, Cornwall, England
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
7. Rules under the Readmore below.
Basics
Original character and writing are mine and not for reproduction. (2012-2026). Likewise original graphics on the blog.
I want nothing to do with AI generated content.
These rules may seem harsh, but they're the result of people ignoring them when they've been put 'nicely'. If I've blocked you on your previous blogs please don't refollow on new ones.
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I do NOT RP with:
Minors. No-one under 18 years, selective with under 21. No age mentioned, no follow.
Personal (non-RP) blogs. Please let me know if you have RP sideblogs.
Blogs that don't have rules somewhere, unless I already know the mun.
Blogs that are only writing instant/only smut (you do you, but we are not compatible).
Only dead dove, toxic ships and similar (again, you do you, but it's not for me).
Blogs that expect rapid-fire replies all the time (see below).
HARD NOs:
Instant smut/only smut.
Infidelity/cheating plots.
Non-con, dub-con (including A/B/O) or sexual assault.
Incest.
Pregnancy threads.
Animal abuse and cruelty.
Child muses (under 13). NPCs are OK, but not children who are the main muse. Any threads with older teens will be strictly platonic.
Very selective with (basically I need to know and trust you);
‘Unrequited crush’ threads need to be talked about first, and boundaries set.
Manipulation/mind control threads.
Villain muses (case by case basis).
‘Fight’ threads where it’s Thera against someone else’s muse. Her vs random NPCs is fine.
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OK, if you're still here ...
Activity I can be slow. The muse is fickle lately and I'm in a different timezone to most of you. I cannot give rapid-fire multiparagraph replies every day. Short replies (up to one paragraph) I might manage sometimes, but anything longer will take time.
Verses Are separate unless otherwise agreed, or for silly shenanigans.
Interaction I give the energy I get back. This is a hobby, but it’s a hobby we should both enjoy and it’s not enjoyable when something’s all one-sided. Busy happens, favourites happen, but if I’m doing all the sending and messaging and you don’t do any, then after a while I’m going to move along.
Post length I’m good with any, as long as we’re putting in roughly equal effort. Longer threads will take longer to reply to.
Memes Please don’t reblog memes from me without sending me one. You don't have to send me something, but if you don’t please reblog them from the source.
Shipping/Smutting Not automatic or guaranteed. Thera is multiship, male-attracted, and we enjoy shipping, but it takes writing together before we decide to ship, to see if we and the muses are compatible. It also needs to be talked about OOC first, to make sure we both want the same things from the ship. Just because Thera is nice to your muse doesn't mean she's romantically interested!
Smut will only happen in the context of an established ship. If your blog is entirely meant for PWP smut writing we are not compatible.
I don't write toxic ships. I've lived one IRL and while it's not triggering for me I don't want to write it in my RP.
Triggers and Tags I tag potential triggers as '[thing] tw'. If you need anything specific tagged, let me know (if you have a tag already blacklisted, tell me and I’ll use it).
No God-Modding I write my muse, you write yours, and if in doubt, ask. Please don’t decide for me what she does, thinks, says or feels (or did before the events of the thread), that your muse has done something to her, or put her in a certain situation, without asking first.
Ignoring what I’ve just written and continuing as if Thera never said or did something counts as god-modding, too.
Meta-gaming is giving your muse OOC knowledge IC. There are muses out there powerful enough that they could know things, but please talk to me about it first.
On those last two points, I also reserve the right to say no.
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[ @deficd from here for Khan, because the open starter is a Legacy post and will mess up trimming the reblogs ;) ]
Thera spots him at fifty yards, or whatever the distance actually is between her seat and the line of sight she's careful to keep on the door. A power yacht carving through a sea of kayaks, he seems almost displaced from the crowd as he is from humanity and time.
Some of them move aside without even seeing him, some base instinct acting like a bow-wave arriving a second before the man. Others, perhaps one or two, double-take at the passing figure, the back and shoulders that are all he affords them the chance to see, but still remain where they are.
Her gaze flicks to the bar, assessing busyness, wondering where her refill is and whether to order something for Khan - who will likely disdain the weak local brews but grudgingly drink one anyway.
He drops into the empty chair, opens with the dry, factual missive that draws a smirk and snort to her lips. "They're always fucking displeased." She replies, finishing the last of her current drink, "They probably don't ... " A pause. "Wait, 'incident report'? Did you damage some of them on the way out?"
“Were you eavesdropping?” because he’s nosy and wants details.
------------
"What was that about magicians not revealing their tricks?" A chuckle runs under the words, because she's not a magician any more than he is, not in that sort of sense at least. Thera smirks, shrugs casually because it's a very open question regardless.
"First, define 'eavesdropping'," She pours herself a glass of water from the tap and turns, butt leaned on the counter as she drinks, "because I may simply have been close enough to innocently overhear ... and second, eavesdropping on who?"
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"Sounds good," Genesis responded, nodding to Thera lightly. He gave her another passing glance as he crossed over to another set of bookshelves, pondering over the books to look busy while he passed the time.
The bard flashed her a smile before going back to his busying, if only so he didn't look like he was loitering.
She got a look. The pointed, under-brows kind of look that asked sequentially 'You're staying after hours?' then 'You're staying after hours with him - ?' Thera returned it with one of her own, a minature billboard of 'Bitch please' and 'would you like to take care of him instead?'
That last bit wasn't fair because Genesis had been nothing but pleasant, but the night-shift relief was only seeing the SOLDIER (as she had when he first arrived), and didn't want to get involved. Thera clocked out and made her way back over to him. "Alright," Her hands rubbed together, "I'm a free agent! Now, what would you like to look at?"
Caden is short for his species, but taller than most humans. He tries to not cast an imposing shadow, eyes alight with a friendly twinkle, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he greets his new driver. Unlike some of the more snobby senators he views Thera as more than just her role. She isn't just a driver, she's a person. He hopes he can get to know her a bit, always eager to make new friends.
He nods his head in reply to her formal greeting, the dip just low enough to match the small inclination she gave him. "It is nice to meet you Thera. And please feel free to call me Caden when itis just the two of us." All proper ettiquite has its time and place, he doesn't want her to feel as though she has to be so formal 24/7. Stepping closer to the speeder, he adds, "I usually prefer the rear. Something about the back just feels bigger somehow."
"Thank you, Caden." It isn't strictly 'just the two of them' here, with the security bods on station nearby, but it's unlikely they can hear very much at the distance. And if they can, they will have heard the invitation. The Senator is definitely far more easy going than some she's heard of, and Thera wonders for a moment if this is why she was assigned; it's known that stuffier politicians (the one from Ryloth, for example) rub her the wrong way.
"Alright, the back it is!" She steps forward to open the rear door, spotless interior and padded seat awaiting within. "The front seats can be moved forward if you need more room." He's not as massively tall as a Wookiee but there is quite a bit of him and there's no need to be cramped.
"We have a private landing pad reserved at the Senate Building for our arrival."
Her smirk, an expression expertly trained from years of stroking the ego of unpleasant patrons, lifted into a genuine smile that squished her eyes.
“It’s so good to see you,” she said. She put a gentle hand on Thera’s bicep, a nautolan expression of closeness. She would have gone for the hug, but she hesitated, not sure if Thera would appreciate the gesture. Instead, she beamed. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a familiar face.”
Then the reality of the situation set in, and her face tightened. “Thera, I need help. My friend, Sheena, one of the dancers at the club- she’s gone missing.” Vi looked over her shoulder then back at Thera. “I can’t go to the police because… well, we all have a story, right? I needed the help of someone I could trust.”
For Vi, she could go with a hug. It's just not her first instinct out here 'on the job' (or really, with most people, ever) and by the time her brain switches tracks from 'work contact' to 'old friend' the moment had passed with mutual smiles and the return of that hand on the arm.
"You too." Late, but warm. This planet swarmed like a hive at the best of times, familiar faces rare and trusted ones fewer still. The reunion, however, glowed bright but all too brief as Vi's expression changed. I need help, and Thera's laser-focus honed in, you have it written in the gaze even before the Nautolan began to explain.
"Oh, kriff the police." It was muttered under her breath, dismissive; a club dancer missing, they'd be lucky if that rated a few words on Imperial flimsi.
A pause for a heartbeat, echoing the glance around before going on, "You have somewhere to go where we can talk?" The alley was out of the main path of the swarm but still in the open, still with too many potential ears. Plus it was raining, and only one of them was aquatic!
This is one promise that Jake has no promise keeping. if he's doing anything to make her wait, to drag it out, it's done entirely on purpose, but Jake's not much of one to drag these things out. There's always somewhere to be, always something to do, and the last thing Jake wants is to be stopped before they're done. Which doesn't mean he's going to rush, not by any means, but he always liked it fast and hard.
He matches the sounds he makes with those of his own, with deep grunts. He's no stranger to the more adventurous endeavors, but he's guided now by lust, by the furious want. There is no thought to anything else, to the complications of thought and emotion. There is only the physical, and that's all he wants.
He meets the adjustment of her hips with ease, adjusting to what is given with the shifting of his own. His hands grasp tightly to the bed by her head, and there is something within him stirring, not yet orgasm, but something darker. He wants something aggressive, teeth and nails and broken skin. His weight shifts after a moment, the steady pace of his hips not faltering even as a hand moves, as he lays it over her throat. He doesn't apply pressure, not yet, though he looks at her with a question in his eyes, dark and burning.
No ... oh Jake, no ... The thought is a silent whine, half-scattered by the urgency and heat. Movement slows, sounds stop and her eyes snap open, a jolt through her body that has nothing to do with pleasure. They never took time to talk about hard limits (or hardly anything at all, talking isn't part of the deal), but Jake has just brushed up against one of hers. He's asking, suggesting rather than just doing it and she appreciates that difference, but it isn't somewhere she wants to go.
The whine pushes to become vocal, to break out in frustration because she doesn't want this to ruin their momentum - her body still clamors, urges itself to thrash against him for the climax it's begging for, have her nails carve over his skin; she doesn't want this to interrupt, but ...
Her hand has moved without her realising, fingers slotting between his and the skin of her throat, voice breathless with exertion but steady. "No." She doesn't struggle or tear his grip away, but there's a clench of her hold, a mild tug that says she wants him to let go. "Too real." This isn't the moment for long explanations, so that will do; to Thera, a hand on her throat is a threat to her life, and those instincts are too old to ignore.
And even if they weren't, Jake hasn't earned that level of trust as yet. She hopes she can trust him to accept the 'no', but her eyes stay a little sharp just in case.
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It takes a small amount of work to remember the last time he's done this, trying on new clothes that weren't provided by an automated assistant. Even LYLA, who was there whenever he called for 'her' tended to chime in with some unsolicited opinions on style and colour choice. Separated from both, he felt as if he needed a refresher. Luckily, help was close at hand!
"You reckon?" Tone soft, the warmth that rises in his cheeks speaks for how the compliment is received, kind words that arrive as he fumbles with the top button of a new, dark grey shirt. Staring at his own reflection in a full length mirror, a quick bit of thinking had seen them decide to try on their haul of purchases at home, rather than use a booth in-store.
It's a choice that left ample room for a myriad of size exchanges and refunds becoming necessary, but seemed to be for the better, given the comfort that privacy afforded them.
"It's funny. I sometimes forget what it's like to wear normal clothes." Sliding the troublesome button through the hole at last, he moved to card a hand through his hair, fingers brushing back brown strands as he inspected his double for a moment; tall and willowy, as he had always been. Barely a step or two away from passing for normal, if it hadn't been for the dark red hue of his eyes, or the glimpse of fangs poking out from beneath his upper lip.
"I almost don't want to look at the receipt, to remember how much we spent." Money exchanged largely for his own benefit, assembling at last a wardrobe, that didn't exclusively consist of his costume and stolen shirts.
"Yeah, I reckon." Thera lets a smile grow, watching his reflection in the mirror, "I like to think I have a pretty good eye." How many layers rest under that statement? A few, and her lips curve further at the last. She has a good eye for clothing as a whole, for sizes (although it does help to peek at the tags that already fit him), and, with a touch of her hand on the small of his back, "Especially for looking at you."
It has the lilt of a tease even though it is genuine; she wants the compliment to stick, but also to coax out the sheepish blush that few would imagine on a six-foot-nine pro-wrestler build.
"Sometimes I feel the same way." Thera gazes quietly at the two of them in the glass, expression turning wry. "I don't notice a lot of the time, until I put on my armor and suddenly feel truly myself again." A pause, a slow blink that's wistful and nostalgic at once, before she shakes herself lightly and looks him over again.
"I also think I prefer the jeans on you to the dress pants. But that might just be me!" She gives a soft chuckle, glancing toward the remaining shopping bags - mostly menswear but a few things for herself as well. "What would you like to try next?"
PROMPTS FOR THE ROMANCE OF BANTER, PLAYFUL SARCASM, AND USING JOKES TO HIDE HOW YOU REALLY FEEL ABOUT THEM
* assorted dialogue, some of which have some implied sarcasm built in (so just feel free to specify with "/s" at the end of each line), adjust as necessary
admit it. you're in love with me.
if only i had someone to go out with...
a date would be really nice right about now.
i might reconsider if you bring me flowers.
were you being serious back there?
did you just try to impress me?
was that another joke, or were you telling the truth?
we agreed that if no one asked us, we'd go together.
keep telling yourself that!
here it comes! the big love confession i've been waiting for!
you've been in love with me since the day we met.
you visited me in my dreams last night.
i know you're in love with me. you just won't say it outloud.
we can't hide this forever.
don't make me beg.
if you weren't so cute, you'd be annoying.
you're not very good at hiding how you feel.
you've been staring at me for a long time now.
is that what you really think of me?
you have feelings for me. admit it.
so what if i've been lying this whole time? for good reason!
you don't make this whole love thing any easier.
you make life difficult.
you're a piece of work.
is that how you really feel?
you're lucky you're so cute.
you're not really going out with them, are you?
i thought we... nevermind.
consider me impressed.
am i annoying you right now?
you didn't like that comment, huh.
i was only kidding!
you wish we were kissing right now.
oh, you'd just love to hear me beg.
i love our little back and forth.
sooner or later we'll have to come clean about how we feel.
i'm not good at hiding my emotions.
when were you going to tell me you were in love with me?
i actually hate your guts.
keep talking like that and you'll see how i really feel.
can your head get any bigger?
was that a joke?
were you just playing with me?
you didn't actually mean that, right?
hang on. you didn't just say that.
that was a joke, right?
this is just how we are when we're together.
i tease you, you tease me.
you and i have always been like this.
if i'm not annoying you, what's the point?
i'm allergic to tickling.
they said we'd make a cute couple. can you believe that?
are you always this annoying?
if i kiss you, will you turn into a prince? yes, i'm implying you're a frog.
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//So last night I had my first alcohol in around 3 months (no recovery kind of thing, just haven't been willing to spend money on booze since I lost my job). I got happily buzzed and went to bed.
Where my brain decided to give me its own version of 'Avengers Doomsday' like a complete fecking movie through my brain. It was weirdly coherent, and I'm going to jot down what I can remember.
Steve Rogers was there, but I can't remember exactly why or if he was Cap or Nomad. Tony, Thor and Loki were there, and a bunch of others who were just 'figures gathered around' (Shuri and Bucky were probably among them).
It was an open, rugged, 'away from civilisation' area, and there was a castle. Thinking back, it may have been this one (or it may have been somewhere like Glastonbury Abbey, I didn't fully recognise it during the dream).
Somebody points out that there are underground tunnels beneath the castle, so Thor and Loki go off to investigate (both wearing their Asgardian outfits and sibling-bickering all the way).
Something attacks the group, aiming to kill Shuri, but a bodyguard gets in the way and takes the hit. The bodyguard turns out to be some sort of alien race who is more powerful than thought, and will be fine.
Meanwhile, another cave system is discovered, with a laboratory hidden inside. Two teams take shifts investigating the lab and what's being studied; the only character I recognise from either team is Rocket. When Steve and Tony check on the progress, they're shown a collection of cylindrical vials (very like this but with futuristic glass lids) containing clear liquid. It also comes to light that one of the teams has been infected and corrupted by something in the lab, but nobody is sure which team.
At this point Rocket takes a moment to announce he's marrying his partner, who is a small Transformer-ish sentient robot (I have no idea where that part came from!).
Then somebody shows one of the glass vials to Bucky, who immediately recognises them from his 'Winter Soldier' days and seeing them in HYDRA labs. He says "Wait, I know these ..."
