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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

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Stories of Paris

I have no self control this week and have just finished this wip I'll update 2 days on the trot (mainly as I've become word blind and can't see the words for the letters). This is a flux occurrence and is likely to never happen again unless it's like a month with 2 full moons and the stars have aligned wonky and theres a north wind blowing and Fae stuff like that....

Will eventually post on AO3 when like the tech sprites are feeling nice to me and the gremlins have disappeared.

Masterlist

Part One Part Two

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Alfred checked in on his small charge, making sure he was still asleep, before heading to his own room. The last couple of months had been hard. Much harder for young master Bruce but still hard. He had lost his employers, who were closer to friends really. He'd become an unexpected full time guardian on top of a full time workload of running a manor house, which he was originally employed for. Gone were his fortnightly day off. His evenings to himself to meet up with friends, his whole life was turned upside down and he was grieving.

As much as he adored Master Bruce he wanted, no that's not right, he needed a break to grieve too. Grieve the loss of his friends, the loss of his freedom, the loss of his own life expectations.

Once he reached his own personal sanctuary he got out his personal phone and dialed the one person who got him. She may have been a foreign agent but she had taken him under her wing, looked after him and treated him like a son before they both retired (for different reasons). She was like a mother to him after he lost his own. She was always a grounding rock. It was this point, in his early 30's he needed someone to talk to this overwhelming, unexpected, humongous responsibility he'd stumbled upon.

"Ciao?"

"Gina, Are free to talk?"

"Alfie darling!!! Of course I am free to talk to you! I'll always make time for you darling! How are you doing stateside? The family in your charge still treating you well? Or do they need to be dropped so you can come adventuring with me?"

Suppressing a stifled sob Alfred tried to answer Gina's questions.

"They, they died Gina. The couple. The… the Wayne's were murdered in front of their son… They left me in charge of looking after him. I'm his guardian… I've looked after him for 2… 2 months..."

The stifled sob broke loose. After 2 months of being in complete control over all the emotions in favour of protecting and supporting Master Bruce he finally let them all out.

".... Shhhh shhh, there there il mio piccolo… Let those tears flow. Don't hold it in. Let those feelings out… "

Alfred sat in his room allowing himself to crack with Gina providing soothing words to him. After a while the sobs died down and he recomposed himself.

"Are you feeling better Alfie sweetie?"

"... Yes …"

"How often do you get your own space? Time to care about yourself? When was the last time you had a 'you' day?"

"... Before, before all this I would have days and time to see friends. Now, it's all about Master Bruce. He needs someone. He's just lost his parents. I can't abandon him as well.''

"So not for 2 months then. Hmmmm… you need to get a babysitter and make time and days for yourself"

"I don't trust anyone in Gotham Gina to look after Master Bruce. I've built a network up but not a 'child friendly one'."

"Good thing then I have the perfect candidate for you. My granddaughter is in Gotham as part of a study program or something like that. My little fairy is good with bambini. And it would benefit us having someone we trust to physically check in with her too. Being an ocean away makes it hard for us to check she is actually ok and not what she is presenting to a screen or phone."

"That, that might work Gina. How old is she? I know you wouldn't suggest it if she wasn't suitable…"

"Currently 17 but soon to be 18 and planning to stay Gotham way for a while. She seems to adore the architecture."

"That… .this might work. Could you check with her that she is happy to do this and we can arrange a meeting to see how it goes. It will be dependent on how well she connects with Master Bruce as to what happens next."

"Sounds like a plan Alfie! You're a strong resourceful man Alfie. You'll get through this. Do call me again if you need anything. And I do mean anything! Also be certain I'll be visiting in the nearish future to check on you and the lad.

Now go to sleep and I'll have a chat with my little fairy to see what we can do. You're not on your own in this son. Rest now and I will be in contact soon."

"Thank you Gina. For everything. Just being able to talk to someone has been a huge help. I'll go rest now. Bye"

"Bye Alfie"

After hanging up the phone Alfred took a deep breath and for the first time in a long time he felt he could finally breathe. Gina had never led him wrong before. Having someone to watch Master Bruce even for a few hours would allow him the space to set up a new network and reconnect with people. The overwhelming task would become manageable. Hopefully Gina's granddaughter would be willing and that Master Bruce liked her.

With those thoughts in mind Alfred finally turned in for the night.

…………………………………………………………..

Bruce continued to stare at the teen in his living room. It was an unexpected guest in his eyes. Alfred had informed him of a visitor, an old friend's granddaughter who was studying in Gotham, and Alfred's friend wanted him to check up on her. So Alfred had invited her to the manor. That was all fine. What he didn't get is why HE needed to be about. He didn't want company, he wanted his parents back. He wanted that man who destroyed his life brought to justice. He wanted to do research not listening to some inane talk. He wanted to be left alone to wallow. And maybe have Alfred about too for quiet company and provide tea and snacks. Not this stranger in his home.

As he stared (glared) at the girl he lost focus on the ongoing conversation she was having with Alfred to sulk.

He was drawn out of his musing when he saw the girl out down the cup she was drinking from and gave Alfred a hug. She whispered something to Alfred and much to Bruce's amazement, Alfred's whole being seemed to loose some of the tenseness it held. A glimmer of a spark he once held seems to re-enter his being.

"*cough* Right Miss Marinette. I can tell you are related to your Grandmother. Gina holds a magic way with words too."

"It's ok Monsieur Pennyworth. I learnt a lot about how words have power and how they can affect people under Hawkmoth's rein. Nonna helped me refine the skill."

"Hawkmoth? Miss Marinette could you explain further?"

"Yes, he was a supervillain. He held the power to manipulate people with negative emotions and turn them into temporary villains which Paris superheros had to defeat.

It was exhausting to live through. Watching what you said and how it could affect others. Keeping your own emotions in check. Nonna was a great help in learning to read body language so I could preempt and defuse situations before Hawkmoth could attack."

The girl, Marinette, went back to drinking her tea as if what she said was common knowledge and that having super heros was a normal thing.

It sparked Bruce's interest. The 8 year old boy adored comics telling granduese stories of adventures. This Marinette may not be as awful as he originally thought. She had experience of heroes and what they could do. In the small boy's head, he needed to get as much information as humanly possible from her. She might know how they came to be. How they got their powers. She knew about justice and how to take down bad guys indirectly. That meant joining in the conversation so she might come again.

"Thank you for coming round Miss Marinette. Are you sure I can not interest you into staying for dinner?"

"No, thank you Monsieur Pennyworth, for having me. I would have loved to stay for dinner, Nonna tells tales of your fabulous culinary skills, I must however decline. The family I am staying with is expecting me back soon.

It was a pleasure to meet you though. And you Monsieur Wayne."

Bruce was drawn out of his thoughts of superheroing and taking down bad guys. His information source was leaving. He needed to keep her here somehow. Or get her return.

"It was nice to meet you too Marinette. Would you like to come round and visit Alfred again?"

Alfred looked at the young master in surprise, the young boy had appeared to show no interest and huge distrust of Miss Marinette, but apparently looks are deceiving. Somehow she had won the boys interest and he wanted her to return. Gina was right about the girl, she was talented and seemed to know how to work her audience especially children. Maybe, just maybe Gina's idea would work.

"I would be delighted to visit again Monsieur Wayne. Monsieur Pennyworth has my details. I'm sure we can arrange another occasion to meet."

"If you would like to follow me Miss Marinette, I will escort you to the door."

…………………………………………………………..

"Gina"

"Alfie!!! How are you? It's good to hear from you!"

"I am well thank you. Much better than when we last spoke. I must say though, thank you! Your idea has been perfect. Your granddaughter has been amazing. She completely worked her magic with Master Bruce."

"Mmmm hmmm"

"She has got him talking. Not much. But he isn't as wallowy as he was before we met her. She got him kneading bread. And basically got him to beat his frustrations into it. The kitchen was a disaster from it all but he seems happier."

"YOU sound happier darling too!! The kneading thing likely comes from my Tom. He got my fairy doing that a lot under Hawkmoths rein. Baking for her has become a way to process/deal with her emotions. The nasty fella. I'm glad he is all done and dusted for my fairy. He left his mark on her."

"I can honestly see a way forward now Gina. Thank you. Bruce and I, we will get there. But back to your comment, Left his Mark? Did Miss Marinette get hurt? Has she an injury that I need to be aware of. Every time I've seen her she seems well, with the occasional spacey moments. She seems to navigate a conversation well to avoid topics that cause her too many anxieties."

"Not physically that I am aware of. Emotionally it has taken its toll. She is good at masking and misdirecting emotions as you've probably seen and noted. She's grieving too. She's left Paris as it has too many memories for the moment."

"I see.... I can see how that is likely helping her and Master Bruce connect. Thank you Gina, truly. Our little family has hope now that your fairy has arrived. We will see if we can also watch out and help her."

…………………………………………………………..

Had Bruce realised at the time that Marinette's original visit was an informal interview to see if he connected with her, Bruce may have paid a bit more attention. He might have noticed if had paid attention but that's neither here nor there. In his unfocused state he had somehow agreed to her becoming his babysitter. And as much as he protested to Alfred that he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. The small fire he created in the kitchen when he tried to make toast (this time) shortly before his declaration destroyed his argument.

The bonus was that with each occasion Marinette babysat him he was learning more and more about superheros (and got freshly baked treats). And she knew a lot about both.

"Mon poussin, shall we go bake some cookies before Alfred returns?"

"Ummm… I might have been err banned from the kitchen since you last visited Mari."

"Banned mon chéri? Why on earth were you banned?"

"I tried to make the cookies we made last time for Alfred as a surprise. The fire this time was much bigger than normal"

"Are you banned from baking or just being in the kitchen? I kinda need to know what rule we're about to bend"

"Bend? And errrr baking and kitchen. Alfred said 'Young master. Please can you refrain from attempting to bake and using the kitchen equipment. You are banned until I see fit that it is safe for you to learn again'"

Bruce caught a glint of mischief entering Marinette's eye and a smirk grew upon her face.

"Perfect!!! You're banned from the equipment for baking. I'll use the equipment then and you can still be in the kitchen then. Bending is working with the rules and looking for where they are flexible and looking for loopholes. Alfred for example according to you said baking. Well baking is different from cooking. So technically you could cook. Though as it's Alfred I'd probably give it a miss."

"Yeah, I don't fancy getting on the wrong side of Alfred."

The pair started to walk to the kitchen to bake with Marinette leading.

"The Parisian's superheros used that technique a lot. The police there weren't particularly welcoming in the beginning so they followed the rules the police set out and twisted them to work best in their interest. It's something you see business people do too. Something I'm sure you'll encounter when you're older sadly."

"How did they get their names? Paris's superheros"

Marinette smiled ruefully as she got the ingredients out for cookies.

"I told you that I was friends with a blogger at the time"

"Uh-huh" Bruce nodded.

"For the most part she named them. I believe, from what I remember her saying, is that Chat Noir introduced himself as that, but Ladybug, she focused on the task at hand and ignored the media for the most part at the beginning and they named her. The blogger from what I recall named her and then created the blog 'the ladyblog' as a pun on the name. Lesson to learn there is that if a hero doesn't want to be named by the media they should have a name ready to provide and introduce themselves with. Winning the media and public over made the job easier from what I could tell"

"And what made them superheros Mari?"

"They had powers mon poussin. Police, firepeople, doctors and nurses. They are all hero's fighting to protect others everyday. All within the law. These superheros had powers. They had magic."

Bruce looked at Marinette in awe.

"Magic?"

"A curse and a blessing, magic is Bruce" Marinette in such a serious way that was so out of character it startled Bruce.

"There are so many types of magic out there Bruce. For the most part it's benevolent, neither good nor evil just existing in balance. Old magic though. Old magic tends to come at a cost. Yes it can help but there is always something required to balance it out. A negative payment. Hawkmoth, he used the magic in a negative way and it cost him his family. His life as well.. Ladybug and Chat Noir they both had to use their powers to balance the other one out."

Bruce absorbed the information like a sponge. He loved when Marinette forgot his age and just spoke her thoughts. Her memories. He was learning so much from her about these heroes when she drifted to narrate the past. Superheroes. If Alfred let him he was going to look this blog up on his computer later.

With such melancholy Marinette continued.

"Hawkmoth turned out to be my friend's dad. His dad was awful so it wasn't a huge surprise. But, his misuse of the magic caused the death of my friend to balance it all out. Magic isn't inherently bad, it's the side effects that people forget about and neglect to think."

Marinette let out a big sigh.

"These cookies are going to taste sour with this sad mood growing. Mon poussin, what superpower would you want if you could have one?"

She enquired trying to lighten the mood about the past as she put the cookies into the oven to cook.

Bruce mulled over the question.

"I'm not sure Mari. What you said about magic and powers seems like a bad idea. If I had a superpower, what would it cost me? I don't want to lose Alfred or you. I'd want to do it without powers''

*Chuckling* "Oh mon poussin. That's what you got from what I've said. Mon chéri, you won't lose us. You're family now"

Marinette stated before booping his nose with a floury finger.

"But you said people were heroes without powers Mari! I wanna be like that."

"So a secret ninja hero with lots of gadgets then."

Matinette giggled at the boys antics "Remember secret identities are key. No-one but your selected trusted support network can ever know them so you are all protected as well."

"Hmmm ok Mari that's good advice"

They both sat in silence after that. Marinette, still trying to recover from the memories of losing Adrien, Bruce pondering what Mari had said.

"How'd you train to be a ninja Mari?"

"Hmmm ninja training I guess Bruce."

"What's that though"

"I guess ninjas train in martial arts, gymnastics and stuff like that. Maybe in weapons. I don't really know Bruce. I've never met a ninja before."

Marinette smiled at the small boy. He reminded her of Manon with all the questions on heroes and Alya with her obsession in her teens. She never remembered being so fascinated with them but many of the children she had babysat especially in Paris had a huge fascination with them. It was times like this she missed Paris and her family there. Nonna recommending her to Alfred was a stroke of luck. Bless Tikki. She was starting to feel like she had a family over here now too.

Bruce mulled over the information Mari had given. Maybe he would get Alfred to sign up for martial arts lessons. That would help towards getting skilled enough to bring justice, even if it didn't bring his parents back.

When Alfred returned back to the manor, he found the pair giggling in the kitchen. Cookies cooling on the side as the pair pretended to do silly ninja moves while watching ninja warrior clips on Miss Marinette's phone. Alfred smiled to himself while craftily snapping a photo of the pair. Miss Marinette was an excellent babysitter and was slowly bringing happiness back into the manor. Bruce's sour moods from grief definitely improved with her presence.

Gina's recommendation was perfect.

…………………………………………………………..

Marinette had almost become a permanent feature in Bruce's life. She was round at least once a fortnight. Sometimes once a week and had been for the last 9 months and he had grown to see her as almost an Aunt or cousin or something more than a babysitter. She was becoming family. He desperately missed his parents still but having Mari and Alfred he didn't feel quite as alone on the bad days.

The pair were both doing homework in the garden while Alfred was out when Mari's phone rang. She switched to another language on answering. Bruce paused from his work and watched. He didn't know the language and felt left out not knowing what was being said. He would ask Alfred to sign him up for language lessons when he returns. The martial art lessons were awesome in the boys eyes. Language lessons would help connect more with Marinette. And help in spying and his secret hero training.

Watching her though she seemed to flit through a range of emotions in quick succession which were a blur to interpret before they went. They disappeared from her face. He couldn't read what she was thinking or feeling. Bruce knew he was fairly good at reading adults. It was helpful to avoid getting into trouble at school (and with Alfred). It was amazing and scary to not be able to do so with Mari.

"Mari…?" Bruce gently asked when the call had ended "How'd you do that?"

"Hmmm.. do what mon poussin"

"Hide your feelings. How'd you do that?"

"Hide them?" Marinette mused over what Bruce was meaning. "I didn't really hide them mon chéri. I just sifted through them as I felt them and checked if they were helpful to me or not. If it wasn't helpful I parked to deal with it at a later date so I could focus on the call with a clear head. Given who I was talking to, getting upset, angry or frustrated wouldn't benefit me at all. Why do you ask?"

"Can you teach me?!" Bruce demanded with enthusiasm. To be able to be able to do that would be so cool. To do it in games with peers and hide what he was feeling and therefore thinking would be awesome.

Marinette laughed at her temporary charges determination.

"It takes time and patience to learn mon poussin. And I started by learning to meditate and recognising my own emotions. Learning what I'm truly feeling and working out what I need to do to process it.

If we complete our homework soon I'll teach you some basic mediation and we can go from there if you like?"

"Yes!! But don't have to do homework first….. can't we skip it pleeeeeeease"

Marinette just raised her eyebrow, in a very Alfred manner, at the boy who ducked his head in return.

Much to Alfred's surprise he came home to find the pair sitting in the garden as Miss Marinette took Master Bruce through a guided meditation. He hoped that this may be the start of Bruce starting to openly process his grief.

#maribat #maribat au #ml x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #ml crossover #marinette x bruce #marinette x alfred #plantonic #friendship #babysitting #found family

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astrowitch · 3 years

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An Enjoltaire WIP

This is a scene from a big project I’m currently working on. As you may be able to tell, this scene is unfinished, but I’m pretty proud of it so far. I’ve tried to make the dialogue as authentic as I can to the 19th century, but it can be hard to do while still trying to be true to your own writing. It’s definitely ambitious, but I’ve tried my best, so please be patient with me.

June 4th, 1832

“Grantaire, please just listen to me-“

“No! I’m not going to listen to you justify getting yourself killed!”

“You don’t know that I’ll be killed! What if we succeed? Then we still have time…then we have a bright future for France!”

Grantaire sighed deeply, a sense of despair washing over him as he exhaled.

“Enjolras, mon ange,” He began, gripping the blonde man’s soft, slender hand within his own big and rough one, “You are so idealistic. How I envy you and pity you at the same time. Your mind is beautiful, optimistic, everything I’ve ever wanted to be. But it is unrealistic. The National Guard will not listen to the people, much less students. I’m begging, if you just call this off, no one has to die. We can…we can be guaranteed time,” Grantaire’s voice caught in his throat as he finished what he was saying. Of course, right when he had earned a stroke of luck, the thing that he was living for was to be stripped away from in a matter of hours. Grantaire so desperately wanted to wake up tomorrow morning in his rooms with his lovely Enjolras in his arms and the sunlight beating down upon them. He knew that this wish was in vain, for Enjolras was the most selfless person he had ever met. He couldn’t be satisfied until everyone around him was. Grantaire would follow Enjolras to the ends of the Earth, so deep down, he knew that not only were these his last day or two with Enjolras and his friends, but also his last days alive.

Enjolras had a look of frustration on his face, but still had a firm grip on Grantaire’s hand. His blue eyes bore straight into his lover’s soul, and Grantaire wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his tears back. Hell, Grantaire didn’t even know if this Heaven he had been taught about was real. If God was real, how dare he burden this suffering upon Grantaire’s, Enjolras’s, and all of France’s backs.

“Grantaire, nothing you say can stop me. I know what I must do. My duty lies with France, and I cannot let her down. I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you, not a care in the world, but none of that is possible until France is reformed! When I feel the crunch of the monarchy beneath my feet, I will be at rest,” Enjolras rambled, his grip on Grantaire’s hand getting tighter. His eyes told a different story than his words, and it was easy to tell just how terrified Enjolras was behind his cover of fearless leader. It was in moments like these that Grantaire recognized Enjolras’ humanity, contrary to when he first met the man.

Alexandre Enjolras was not a god. He was just a boy with a dream.

Cynical Adrien Grantaire was irrevocably and utterly in love with him. Grantaire’s heart was breaking more every second he thought about losing his love.

“Enjolras, please. I can’t lose you. I-,” Grantaire choked on a sob before he could mutter those three words to the boy in front of him.

Arms immediately came to envelope Grantaire in a tight embrace. He felt the familiar soft curls brush up against his neck, and he tried to keep his sobs under control.

“I know, Adrien. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry-,” Enjolras was speaking through tears too, as Grantaire felt them soaking the collar of his shirt. It was even more unusual to hear Enjolras speaking his first name though, then it was to see him shedding a tear.

Shakily, Grantaire brought one of his hands up from Enjolras’ waist to card it through his Apollonian curls. “I…I would call you Alexandre, but I think you might actually kick me,“ He tried joking, but it came out watery and desperate. Enjolras still let out a broken laugh, and Grantaire’s heart soared at the thought of himself bringing Enjolras joy.

“Grantaire, I- there’s just so much I want to say to you and so little time. There are so many injustices in the world, and I feel that this is one of them,” mused Enjolras, his composure clearly cracking.

“I think we’ve finally come to an agreement on something. How bittersweet those words taste on my tongue in a time like this,” Grantaire leaned his forehead against Enjolras’ own. The pair of them were an incredibly melancholy sight.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras broke Grantaire out of his cage of darkness.

“Yes?” He replied, the smallest twinge of hope manifesting in his voice.

“I…I need you to stay as far away as you can from the barricade tomorrow. I may be risking my life, but…but you don’t have to. Do you understand me?” These words looked like they were physically painful for Enjolras to say, like thousands of little knives pierced his throat as they fell from his mouth.

Grantaire let out a humorless laugh at that. “Enjolras, you really believe that I will stay away from you tomorrow?” He started.

“Grantaire, please-“

“Enjolras. My world is nothing without you. I have no one if you and the others are to expire at the barricade. Living alone for eternity is a far worse fate than dying together. I told you that I would never abandon you, and I intend to keep that promise. There…there is no longer an Adrien Grantaire without an Alexandre Enjolras I’m afraid. My soul intertwined with yours the moment I laid eyes on you. Tomorrow, I’ll be there with you. I’ll die with you…and I’d do it over and over again for a million years if it meant I’d get to experience whatever we have,” Grantaire exhaled after he spoke these honest words.

Enjolras surged forward to capture Grantaire’s lips in a passionate kiss. Grantaire felt tears staining both his and Enjolras’ cheeks as they embraced. It was horribly poetic, their tears mixing. All their anguish was shared, much like their fates seemed to be. When Enjolras finally pulled away from their kiss, he buried his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck, hiding himself from the world. He was holding on to Grantaire impossibly tight, like he’d somehow slip away from his grasp if he didn’t.

It was then Grantaire heard the most heart-wrenching sound; Enjolras gasping for breath, sobbing helplessly into his neck. This was so unlike the Enjolras that he had first met that it was almost disconcerting. This Enjolras was vulnerable and loving instead of cold and militaristic. This was the Enjolras that a lot of people didn’t have the pleasure of seeing. Of course, it was clear that Enjolras cared deeply for others, but he had never broken down like this before.

“Shhh…I’m here. We’re going to get through this…together,” Grantaire soothed, holding the golden boy in his arms close.

“I…I’ve never-“ Enjolras began, “I’ve never felt like this before. Oh, how Marius underestimated me in his speech about the girl he met. I do know how it feels to…to…,” he stumbled.

“To?” Grantaire questioned, hoping that this was going the way he believed it was.

“To be in love. Grantaire, you’ve changed me for the better. How could I have gone on to die without knowing how it felt to be cared for by you? You’ve made my task so much more difficult than it was before, not only because you have a fondness for playing Devil’s Advocate. You have the kindest heart I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. I’m honored that you let me in,” Enjolras didn’t have time to finish what surely would’ve been a long, rambling proclamation of love because Grantaire so quickly captured his lips in another kiss.

“So many call me cynical, but more honest words have never been spoken than when I told you that I loved you from the moment I saw you. I have been your beloved Patroclus from the very beginning, and you my Achilles. How queer it is that we’re also condemned to a tragic end! Maybe it makes our ephemeral romance all the more fascinating,” Enjolras couldn’t help but grin as Grantaire began his waxing of the classics. It was one of many little quirks he adored about the artist.

When Grantaire finished his spiel, the hopeless expression returned to his sullen face. Enjolras mirrored it, pressing his forehead against Grantaire’s own.

“We will treasure this night, live in our own world. Tomorrow, we return to the situation at hand. We honor General Lamarque, and we will rise up and show the king that we are tired and desolate. If we are to perish, at least we have made a point. At least we have perished for the sake of the people,” Enjolras, ever the patriot, insisted passionately. If this wasn’t such a tender moment between the two of them, Grantaire normally would’ve started an argument, but he had the wise judgement to not say anything.

#enjoltaire #enjoltaire fanfiction #enjolras #grantaire #les amis de l'abc #les mis #les miserables #victor hugo #aaron tveit #george blagden #enjoltaire fanfic #romanticism #exr

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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years

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Kinktober - Day 27

27/31 Pairing: Reader x Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes Prompt: Orgy / Foursome Warnings: 18+, not proofread, dominance, being used, praise, eating out, bj, overstimulation, anal penetration,

Masterlist

The three boys looked at each other, "You never...?" "Yup, never." You nodded and looked down at your hands. There was another expression interchanged between the three soldiers. "Would you...let us try?" Sam smirked at you and your eyes widened. "I- Why would I do that?" You were confused as you started noticing the tension building in the room. Steve's eyes trained on you, Bucky licking his lips. "C'mon, darling. Let us show you a good time." Bucky said now, eyes a little soft. Your voice was gone, your mouth closing and you looked around another time. You felt your underwear sticking to you slowly but surely. How were you supposed to say no to this?

Without another word you were picked up and put back down in front of your soft bed. "Relax." Steve whispered before starting to kiss you, the other two boys on each of your shoulders. A metal hand creeped up your spine and unclasped the bra you were wearing, making you hum. You reached for Steve's belt, hearing a little growl from him. What was hidden behind those pants always had kind of interested you. Another hand went to stroke over your clothed folds. "Do we make you that excited?" Sam murmured and you whimpered in response, feeling a cold hand follow the same motion. "Through your panties and your shorts. You really want it, don't you, sweetheart?" You heard Bucky on the other side as Steve also took his time, feeling the wetness that has left a big wet spot on your grey shorts by now. "Hmm, you want us to make you cum?" You looked up at him and nodded silently as you felt your pants and panties being removed and someone tucking on your shirt. "You don't have to do anything, just relax. We got you!" He cooed as you heard other clothes hitting the floor. You were gently pushed to sit down on the bed. You felt Sam behind you starting to massage your breasts while Bucky behind him took your legs and pushed them up and apart. "So wet for us." Steve grumbled as kneeled down in front of you and started kissing the insides of your thighs. You never had someone do this to you, you hoped it felt good. His tongue licked through your folds, explored you thoroughly, making you shake a little. There were circling motions around your clit, leaving you with shaky breaths. "Good girl, relax." Sam murmured behind you with a kiss of your shoulder. Unexpectedly Steve sucked on your clit, making your head fall back with a moan. "Yes, just like that, baby." Bucky made circles on your legs with his thumbs. Another suck of your clit and you moaned out louder. This felt amazing, heavenly, like bliss. Without your knowledge a nod was interchanged, your legs held wider open and you felt him lingering close to you. "Do you want us to fuck you, darling?" Bucky asked. "Yes." You whined impatiently and got a little chuckle back. Your hole suddenly was stretched by the big girth of the supersoldier in front of you and you whimpered out. "Shhh, shhh, shhh. Gonna feel good soon, promise." Sam murmured as you felt Steve fill you out more and more and more. Now you got why Bucky was holding your legs. Your hand was grabbing into Sam's and his free one started circling your clit gently as a rhythm started. Another whimper escaped you. "Does it hurt?" Bucky cooed. "A little." You whimpered. "A little is normal. Relax, baby." He kissed your head that was leaned back over Sam's shoulder. There was a harsher movement, hitting a spot you didn't believe you actually had, making you moan out again. The little pain forgotten. "Good girl." Came back in a chorus as the hand on your clit got a little faster. "Oh fuck." You whined out at the next movement. "Feeling good, baby girl?" Bucky smiled. "So good." You moaned out as the pace turned faster. "You wanna cum for us?" Sam cooed. "Please." You whimpered as the length thrusting into you got faster, both of your weakspots worked perfectly. "Oh shit." You yelled out. "That's what I'm talking about." Sam murmured. "Holy fuck." You panted as Steve started pounding into you. "Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygoooood." You were shaken by the movements. "C'mon, give us your first orgasm, baby girl. Show us." Sam encouraged you. "Shit. Shitshitshitshit." A deep inhale, followed by a loud pornographic moan was an uncontrolled reaction. Just like the muscles in your body tensing up as you felt pure bliss emitting from your center. You felt the warm cum inside of you and a shared, "Good girl." "Holy fucking hell." You mumbled and got a chuckle back. "And we just started." Bucky chuckled. "What?" You asked confused. "We're gonna make you feel good all day. Don't worry." Sam murmured as he tasted you. You were pushed onto your back before feeling another big cock filling you out. "Sweet or filthy, sweetheart?" He smirked and you bit your lip at that. "I see." He grinned and turned you on your stomach without leaving you. He instantly started with a fast pace and you understood quickly why. "Fuck." Your clit throbbed from the friction with the sheets. "What do you want, baby?" He asked a little more dominant. "I wanna cum." You whined out and grabbed onto the bedding as he picked up the pace. "You want another dick? You wanna be our little cockslut?" He growled and you moaned out a loud, "Yes!" He pushed you up, on all fours and got slower and deeper. Sam kneeled in front of you, before Bucky forced open your jaw and let a second cock enter your body. You felt so used but so good. The pounding pace into you made you gag on the big dick in front of your repeatedly with hums and tears in your eyes. "Fuck, you like that, don't you. Especially when you get to cum as a reward." Sam cooed down as you felt your second orgasm roll in. With a loud moan he drew back from you and came all over your face. "C'mon, cum for us, little whore." Bucky growled and you liked being degraded and dominated. Nobody had every done it to you. "Yes, yesyesyes. I'm gonna cum. Fuck, I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna-" Your squeal echoed in the whole room. "Sooo, we note you like that kinda stuff." Bucky smirked next to you, still balls deep inside of you. "I'm gonna turn around now and you're gonna lay on top of me...and you're gonna trust us and say no if you don't like something." Bucky said soft again and you nodded before he flipped you on top of him. You felt hands on your ass, as well as liquid. Eyes went wide as Bucky below you cooed affirmations in your ears. "You consent?" He looked at you and you nodded. You trusted them, so you were willing to try this. After a while you were wipping back and forth between Bucky and Sam. A little uncomfortable, but mostly turned on. "Space for one more, darling?" Steve chuckled before you opened your mouth and felt it being filled with another cock. "Taking our big cocks like a champion." He cooed and hearing that from Captain America made you wetter. "Such a good girl." Sam moaned behind you. "Our little cock whore." Bucky murmured. You had everything. Soft, neutral, dominant. It made you a little crazy inside. Steve's cum was dripping down your throat not long after and he started touching you soothingly while you were obliterated from two directions. Your eyes were watering and looking at him. "So good?" He mumbled and dipped his head. "So good." You sobbed a little. "You gonna only cum with us from now on?" Bucky now asked. "Only gonna cum with you." You answered as a total mess. "Wanna cum another time?" Sam asked. "Wanna cum again so bad." You whined as they started going for it. Your body was so overwhelmed, you just let it happen. There was no point in fighting it. Your groaned and growled at the feelings your body felt, laying on Bucky almost motionless. There, it started coming back again. "Yes, yes, so close. Please." You whimpered before shooting up onto your forearms and screaming as your holes hugged the two cocks inside of you, filling them with warmth. "Fuck. This is addicting." You said groggily as they left you and started cleaning you up and cuddling with you.

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cassiabaggins · 3 years

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Never Let Go

A/N: @pistachiozombie makes beautiful bofur x leanna art, I have to write something. It’s a symbiotic relationship. Anyway, here’s more bofuranna fluff because I have writer’s block on my main wip. Please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoy this :)! Check out my masterlist, btw!

Warnings: nah

Word Count: 694

Pairing: Bofur x Leanna (Kiliel, Fili x Cassia, Thorin x Ember mentioned)

Taglist: @demigoddesofchimichangagod @pistachiozombie @swoopswishsward@d3-iseefire @moony-artnstuff @legolasesboo522 @sage-willow-raven @underthemoon-n @legolaslovely @guardianofrivendell @avaria-revallier @miss-nori85

The thing you don't expect about battles is the stench. The blood and the sweat and other things soaking into the ground, into the very air…

Leanna can't bring herself to care. As soon as the eagles had come, she had run out of Laketown to find her friends. In the chaos, she had lost both her cousins and she doesn't recognize any of the faces she passes. But Bofur is out there somewhere. Alive. He has to be alive. Oh, Yavanna, please let him be alive!

She runs past Ravenhill, and in the shadow of the tower, she sees Kili and his elf lass. For a brief, horrifying moment, she thinks her friend is gone, then he mumbles something that makes the elf laugh wetly and wipe her eyes. Leanna doesn't stay. She's glad he's alive, but she's on a mission.

"Have you seen Bofur?" She asks Kili, clutching her chest. "Is he all right?"

"You're asking me?" He grunts, shifting around a little. "I very nearly died. I've no idea where he is now, but last I saw him, he was perfectly fine. Riding a troll I think."

Tauriel places her hand on his forehead and tells him to lie still.

"A troll?" Leanna says breathlessly, "oh my stars." She sprints off again, dodging around elves and men and dwarves, leaping over bodies, not even seeing the gore surrounding her. She doesn't even care. She's looking for one person and one person only.

She runs past Thorin and Ember making their slow way back toward the mountain, past Cassia and Fili, sitting on the ground and clinging to each other like they're afraid someone will try to tear them apart. Leanna is glad they're all right, but she also doesn't care.

"Bofur!" She screams. "Bofur!"

She can't see him! She can't find him! The battlefield is too big, the number of dead too large, and Bofur is undoubtedly one of them. Oh, please, she cannot lose him. Not now. Please don't let him have died!

"Bofur!"

Her voice is going hoarse from screaming and her heart is going numb as the time passes. Tears sting coldly on her cheeks. "Bofur!!!"

"Leanna!!!"

That's his voice! She whirls around and around, slipping on bloody mud. "BOFUR!!!" She screams. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Two dwarves and a man are shoved to the side, and, oh, joy of joys, Bofur bursts out toward her. He sprints to her and suddenly, she can't move. She desperately, desperately wants to run to him and throw herself into his arms, but it's like her feet are bolted to the ground, her hands trembling, tears burning her eyes.

"I'm here!" He calls as he reaches her, arms outstretched. "You're all right, lass."

She stumbles forward into his arms, landing up against his chest. He cups her head in his hands and the kiss he places on her lips is both sweet and desperate at the same time.

"You're all right," he murmurs. "You're all right, amrâlimê. You're all right."

"I thought you—" she gasps, "I thought— oh, Bofur."

"Shh, shhh, no, don't you think like that, lass. Don't you think like that. Everything is just fine." He nuzzles his nose to hers, lips brushing over her face.

"I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you." She sobs.

"But you didn't, and you never will. I'm not going anywhere."

"But—"

"Marry me," he blurts, "marry me and we never have to be apart."

"I— what?! Are you sure?!"

"I have never been more sure of anything in all my life." He looks intensely into her eyes. "So, what do you say, lass?"

"Yes!" She blurts, her voice catching in her throat. "Oh, yes!"

A beaming grin breaks across his face, more beautiful than anything she has ever seen, more beautiful than stars and sunrise and spring flowers. Its pure, unadulterated joy.

"Mahal," he breathes. "That's the best news I've heard all day."

Leanna chokes on a sob and throws her arms around his neck, and he lifts her off the ground in a hug, tight and firm and safe. And she knows he’ll never let her go.

#my writing #oc #oc x canon #bofur #bofur x oc #lotr #the hobbit #botfa #the hobbit botfa #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x oc #kili #kiliel #fili #fili x oc #lotr fic #hobbit fanfic #hhhhh its been a while lol sorry

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alicehattera03 · 3 years

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my ranking of tropes!!

As you may know- I uh- I write(fanfics) lol should I say I’m a writer?? Am I even a writer I- *existential crisis continues*

Well, anyways!! I decided to rank popular fanfic tropes cause why not?! (Everything you read from here on out is my opinion so no fighting!!!!!)

For S tier!! Of course, angst was gonna be a tippy top choice for me, so is hurt/comfort(although I suck at writing the comfort part lmfao but reading comfort? YES), fix it fics are amazing like the time I needed to fix an ending of a movie that I came home from crying cause like WTF and I had to write a new ending, dark is well known cause well, DD:DE anyone?!, and canon divergence is a sure thing cause I mean, it’s AU material isn’t it??? and infamous ABO, damn, idk but y’all but that shit good when done right cause MMMMM hell to the yes for inner wolves and ranks, with the bite marks and stuff and lemme say alpha/alpha(unconventional ABO pairs and fics like with alpha/beta are ok too, but ofc I love alpha/omega as well) be doing things to my heart like you wouldn’t believe WOW.

Y’kno what they say, canon material=free real estate.

Tier A!! : surprisingly major character death is here instead of S tier but it’s because I like writing it(With all that angsty goodness) but I don’t really like reading it in other fics(cause I don’t wanna cry uwah), time loop is fun to write but not really to read(watched one too many movies with it and it was ruined for me in the long run)...established relationship is so good because I don’t have to worry about anything(unless one or both die then mayday mayday fuck we gotta problem), mutual pining is delicious lemme scoop it all up, unhappy endings are angsty so I love them and yet cry(so I may skip according to my mood), the AU’s are like beautiful when done the way I like em(opinions opinions), gen fics are surprisingly good all by themselves as long as you read the tags/summary you’ll be good to go!

Tier B: arranged marriage is like the cherry on ice cream you can like it or hate it but it’s there and it isn’t that bad or anything to worry about, honestly if you have to fuck or die I think realistically we’d choose to fuck cause who wants to die if you can live? the AU’s ahhh chef’s kiss. Enemies/friends to lovers, after recently liking the childhood friends trope I was like this IS IT I love the dynamics basically, drunken confessions seem like a thing in real life too so I like it, fluff is cute to read but not to write cause I can never write it without getting angsty ahh maybe I should work on that for the new year??? (shhh wip in progress for new fandom ehe but still quite angsty oh noooo lmao)

Tier C: the AUs are uh not the worst but not the best... I used to like them a lot more but now I could live without them if I had to, amnesia is either frustrating or done really well, “there was only one bed” oh the horror ahahaha, warmth in someone’s arms? Hell yea, sign me the fuck up for that MMMM. Crack? Sure, I could get with the program. Pwp/sex pollen pretty much the same thing lmfao I can sit through it but it has to have a little bit of plot, first kiss usually cute and fluffy which I like reading but somehow can never write out lol the pains of being an angst writer instead of a fluff writer.. miscommunication is either super annoying to read cause they run circles around each other OR there is no or, it’s just awkward for me..I like healthy communication...

Tier D: in short, I hate children in fics and IRL...like the screaming tiny tots that can’t really talk..so yeah that and pregnancy whether it’s mpreg or not is probably out for me, crossovers..if it can make sense and I like both fandoms and there’s no badly written Oc’s...I can take it..body swap on the other hand? No. We keep our own bodies in this household thank you very much. Fake relationship is built on lies, it’s just hard for me to get through them unless it’s good and they work it out well between each other. The fairytale au by itself is alright but tbh time periods and the settings don’t match more than half the time which makes it hard for me to get into it..I like accuracy..coffee shop is..unrealistic half the time..although that could make people get into it, it’s just not for me. Missing/behind the scenes stuff are GREAT when done well, like a sneak peek of “What if” things.

Now. Love triangles. Your may be thinking- a whole new paragraph for this? Yes. I HATE THEM WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEINGGGGG YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE PAIN I GO THROUGH WHEN FINDING OUT IT HASN’T BEEN TAGGED PROPERLY IN A FIC. If two people like the same person and the person likes them both back, don’t make the person choose. It hurts both parties. If the two people that like said person are die hard enemies, then ok fine, choose away, but ya know we(all genders included, I’m sure) got cough holes cough for a reason- just saying..basically I’d like love triangles to go to hell and make way for the queen: threesomes.

LOL anyways, that was my lengthy ass ranking, lemme know if you want to see more of these(I might do a husbando/wifeu ranking in the future ahhh all my fandoms will end up revealing themselves ahaha) And you are most certainly VERY welcome to comment below what fandoms you think I’m in/might like, and I’ll comment back ofc ^^ Let’s be multi-fandom together ahaha

#fanfic #a03 fic #a03 fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 stuff #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer #trope talk #fanfic trope #trope time #trope

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r0ttenlustt · 5 years

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In The Bathroom [NSFW]

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Daddy!Wanda, strapon, she packs

Wanda adds an extra member to your lunch date with Tony and Pepper.

“Wanda! Are you almost ready?” you yell out from the kitchen. Wanda’s been getting ready for more than 40 minutes and you start to get a little impatient because you’re hungry and you need to eat now.

“Yea just one minute” she yells back from the bedroom. Wanda stands there fully clothed, she wears a tight grey t-shirt that’s tucked into black jeans, but she’s holding her strapon in one hand, wondering if she should wear this under her underwear today. She smirks at the thought so she slides her jeans and underwear down so she can harness the cock around her legs. She tucks it in and buckles her jeans back on. She looks in the mirror and there’s a slight bulge between her legs. Satisfied, she steps out the bedroom and walks over to you in the kitchen.

“Ready”

“Finally!” you dramatically exhale and turn around to face Wanda. You don’t notice the extra appendage and Wanda smiles innocently at you.

“Let’s go, Tony and Pepper are already waiting” you grab her hand and pull her towards the door. You have no clue about Wanda’s antics and she’s excited to see your reaction when you do realize she’s packing.

It takes you both 20 minutes to arrive at the restaurant, Tony and Pepper already seated at the table.

“Sorry we’re a little late guys” you apologize and Pepper waves her hands dismissively.

“Don’t worry, you’re fine” she smiles to both of you as you place yourself in front of her, Wanda sits in front of Tony who throws a napkin at her, giggling like a child.

A smile tugs on Wanda’s lips and she grabs the napkin and throws it back. “We waited here for hours, what took you so long? practicing witch craft?” he says jokingly. You roll your eyes and Wanda chuckles “Yea, wanna be our next sacrifice?” she jokes back.

The four of you conversate, food nestling in all of your stomachs and you catch up on life updates. Tony is in the middle of telling a story of an exposition he presented when you leaned into Wanda. Your forearm resting against her thigh.

You move slightly which causes you to brush against the bludge that sits on Wanda’s middle. You tense, the realization of Wanda packing causes waves of arousal to pool between your legs.

Wanda notices but doesn’t take her eyes off of Tony as he speaks. She smirks slightly but does nothing, she just sits there, ignoring your awareness.

You decide to be brave and move your hand to grab at her bulge. No one will notice what you’re doing since your hand is under the table. You start rubbing which causes pressure onto Wanda’s clit.

She intakes a harsh breath at the sensation and grips the back of your chair hard enough to turn her knuckles white. You nod and smile at Tony’s words but you hardly pay attention, your focal point on Wanda.

You put down more pressure which causes a jolt of satisfaction on her clit and Wanda’s hips buck slightly. She coughs to hide the moan that attempted to come out of her mouth. Pepper notices Wanda’s strange behavior, “You okay there Wanda?” she ask concerned, the mother instincts jumping out. All the attention is on her and you look at her, pure innocence on your facial expression.

“Y-Yea i’m fine just feeling a little under the weather” she grits out, forcing a smile. They both thankfully believe her and you stop your movement on the strap, deciding that if she wanted something she’ll just have to take it.

The conversations keeps flowing but Wanda’s know incredibly wet and she knows you are to. She gently swipes her finger, small red energy swirls around it and she pushes it inside your mind.

Your mind starts flooding with images of Wanda pounding into you, everyone in the restaurant watching as she takes you from behind.

You squeeze your thighs together but Wanda forces them still with her magic. You bite your lip to stop the moan that almost slips out and she smirks at her accomplishment of teasing you.

Tony and Pepper are notified that they have to go, work stuff, and they say there goodbyes and you watch them leave. You wip your head to look at Wanda and she wears the biggest smirk, you can’t lie that her cockiness turns you on.

“What the hell Wanda” you harshly whisper so no one else will hear.

“What? something bothering you, princess?” she questions, her tone modest but yet she wears the same smug expression.

You scoff opening your mouth to argue but Wanda leans in before you can say anything. Her breath hot in your ear and it causes goosebumps to form down your neck, she nibbles on your lobe which forces a small whimper from you and you quickly forget what you were about to say. “Watch your words, little girl, don’t want to make me even more frustrated than I am” she warns. The dominating tone of her voice mixed with the chance of someone spying in causes your panties to cling to your soaked cunt.

“Wanda” you breathed out, your eyes flutter close as she trails delicate kisses along your neck

“Mmm” she hums. She bites down on your skin, not hard enough to hurt but it still makes you gasp.

She grabs your wrist and trails your hand back on her bulge. “Cmon, go ahead and rub Daddy” you start groping her again and she growls in your ear when you put down pressure.

“God how I’d love to take you right here, bend you over this table and completely ravish you in front of everyone” she purrs in your ear and you whimper at her words. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I want you to show everyone that I belong to you, show everyone the desperate slut I am for you and only you, Daddy”

A gruttle moan escapes Wanda’s mouth and she abruptly stands up. She grabs your wrist and drags you to the restroom.

It’s a single bathroom and you thank the gods for it.

Once you are both in she slams you against the door immediately returning to her attack on your neck. You reach to grasp at her hair and tug at the soft orange locks which earns you a faint growl. Wanda’s hands move to your bottom and she squeezes both cheeks, pulling you closer into her body.

She flips you over so that your stomach and face are pushed into the wall, your hands planted next to your head.

She pushes herself deeper into you, her bulge strains against your ass and you moan, arching into her.

“You and this fucking skirt, such a tease”. She lifts your skirt up and you gasp when she swiftly brings her hand down.

“Me? You’re the one who’s teasing” you state and Wanda just presses you deeper into the wall if that’s even possible.

She runs her hand down your ass and rubs at your clothed heat. “F-Fuck Wanda” you moan, spreading your legs so she has more access.

She pushes your panties to the side and runs her finger through your folds. “Mmm, so nice and wet for me” she whispers. You try to move your hips back for more friction but Wanda’s hand clutches your waist, keeping you still. She tsks at your neediness and removes her finger.

“Please, Please Daddy I need you to fuck me” you whine out, hoping she’ll give in.

“I don’t know, I like having you all wet and needy, maybe I should just keep you like this for the rest of the day”

You merely groan, the thought of being left like this makes you frustrated.

“No, please, i’ll be a good girl just please, I need you in me Daddy, please” you beg.

“Yeah? you’ll be good?” she goes to unbuckle her jeans and you nod rapidly.

She tugs her jeans down, as well as her briefs, to reach her thighs. You feel the fake cock slap against her right ass cheek and you mewl in desperatation.

Wanda once again pushes your panties to the side with one hand and the other goes to grip the base of the cock. She runs the tip against your entrance before she pushes in to you. A long moan escapes your mouth as she bottoms out, she stays still for a while before she reaches your hands and forces them to cross behind your back. She than takes her other hand and firmly clutches a handful of your hair and tugs so that your head reaches back, your tits press into the wall and your nipples hard against your bra.

Wanda starts to move her hips at a gradual pace. Your ear is next to her mouth and you can hear each breath and grunt she makes.

Her thrusts become more vigorous, the sound of skin slapping together bounces off the walls and you try to keep quite but Wanda’s hitting your g-spot so heavenly you can’t help but make pornographic moans.

“That’s it, you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl” she grunts. You can hear the wetness of your own cunt and the sound drives Wanda insane. She starts pounding into you harder, your moans encouraging her.

Her hand leaves your hair and goes to to slip inside your panties. She rubs your clit and you almost close your thighs from the added sensation but the warning of a growl from the redhead behind you stops you.

A sudden knock reaches your ears and you both cease your actions, you look back at Wanda who’s eyes shine a crimson red for a split second as she reads whoever is outside the door. You give her a worried look, afraid that someone might had heard you.

“I-It’s occupied” your voice cracks as Wanda moves inside you.

“Sorry” the person responds and you release a sigh of relief, a loud moan follows as Wanda gives a rushed thrust.

“Shhh, you gotta keep quite, naughty girl, we could have gotten caught”

Wanda’s hand wraps itself around your mouth. If this isn’t heaven then you don’t know what is.

“You would have loved getting caught, someone walking in on me ruining you, you think they could hear how messy your cunt is?”

She’s rutting and her words come out in a thick sokovian accent.

Your moans are muffled and your eyes roll back to your head as she gets in a ruthless pace. It doesn’t take long before you feel the familiar ball of heat expanding in your belly. Your legs shake and your back starts to strain at the angle.

“You gonna cum, slut?” Wanda ask, her hand tightening around your mouth as your moans become louder.

You moan in agreement and Wanda doesn’t stop her pace. “Go ahead pretty girl, cum on my cock”

You don’t need more before you wither and your juices spill on Wanda’s cock. You clench around her, she slows her pace as you come undone.

Your body pulsates as you calm down. Wanda releases her hands that hold your hands together and instead wraps them around your body. She lets her head fall onto your shoulder.

You both stay there for a minute before she goes to slip out of you. You turn around to face her and you pull her into a passionate, tired kiss. She’s holding onto your hips deepening the kiss. You break away and look down at the glistening cock.

“You made such a mess, princess” Wanda chuckles as she to stares down to.

You hum and drop to your knees, looking up at Wanda as she stares at your every movement. You take the cock into your mouth, slurping it clean before it pops out of your mouth. “There, nice and clean” you smirk up at Wanda, licking your lips of any residue.

She huffs and glides her thumb across your lips. “You look so pretty on your knees” she mindlessly observes.

You feel another wave of arousal pool in between your legs at the admiration in her eyes.

“Cmon” she delicately tugs you up. She tucks her strap back in and you pull your skirt down, moving to the mirror to make yourself look presentable.

Once you’re both done you go to leave and when you walk out there’s a lady waiting right outside the door. You duck down and Wanda just smiles apologetically at her. She grabs your hand you both walk out the restaurant and make it to your car. You get in the passenger seat and sigh as you stretch your back to crack some release.

Wanda smirks and places her hand on your thigh as she starts driving. “Just wait till we get home, baby, you won’t be able to walk or move for awhile”

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #i just love wanda with a strap #scarlet witch #my writting #mine

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haikyuuscreaming · 4 years

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FUCK THSI POST AND HAPPY BRITHDAY HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

im so soft for all of the seijou third years and makki is not an exception. we may have been heavily deprived of makki content but i still love him and yes even though i have 3 wips i am dropping all my shit to write for hanamaki

enjoy this really fast-written but lovingly-written fic :) I LOVE U MAKKI

As soon as Hanamaki wakes up, there’s something obviously off.

He isn’t stupid. He’s always wondered why those people in dollar-cheap romance novels never seem to know what’s up when it’s their birthday. Like, gee, what’s going on? Why is my S/O so sketchy today, on my birthday? Why are all of my friends busy? He’s always wondering maybe they just have garbage self-esteem.

Fortunately for him, you’re a terrible actor.

“Morning, Makki~” Your voice is oddly awake despite Hanamaki having just woken up.

“Morning.” Hanamaki stretches lazily and his arm rests around your head. You’re wearing one of his old jerseys and he thinks it’s fitting for the occasion. “Guess whose special day it is.”

“U-Um, I don’t know.” You sound a little bit nervous although your smile’s still radiant on your face.

(He thinks it’s adorable how excited you are for his birthday.)

“B-But, you should get ready for today!! I do too, actually, so, um, I’m gonna get changed and head out..” Your excitement breaks through your ‘calm’ voice and you practically jump out of bed, kissing his forehead before dashing out. “Sorry, babe!”

“Sorry for what?”

“Um, nothing!”

“Just my luck,” Hanamaki mutters to himself. “It’s raining?”

He walks out of his favorite bakery with a box of cream puffs-- the last box of the bakery, in fact-- and suddenly it’s drizzling rain, an earthy scent flooding the world around him.

He’s a little bit frustrated-- god damn, could they at least warn him? At least so he could bring an umbrella.-- but he pays no mind. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Matsukawa have all been “busy” with plans (although Matsukawa spammed him with a shit-ton of memes and a ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU ASS <3 FULL HOMO), and you’re obviously doing something either for him or something illegal, so he knows to expect something.

Although he can’t help but shake the paranoid worm in his gut that… maybe everyone is busy? Maybe they really couldn’t spare time for his birthday…

He brushes it off, and walks back home in the rain as he shields his cream puff box.

The rain really does make walking-traffic bad.

Hanamaki was expecting to stroll home in a solid 10 minutes, but he’s stuck in an angry mob of people who are half-drenched like him. He thanks whoever’s up there for giving him a strong immune system, otherwise he’s sure that he’d be sniveling and sneezing on his special day.

He’s trying to guess how much time it’ll take to get home now- five more minutes? Seven? Ten more?- before his phone vibrates so hard in his back-pocket he would’ve thought someone shoved a vibrator back there. There’s most likely no mafia or yakuza here, so Hanamaki takes advantage of the slow-moving crowd and takes out his phone.

There it is: the barrage of texts from you. He knew you would break down eventually, asking if he’d come home soon, but he wasn’t expecting pages and pages of texts.

the fiona to my shrek:

hiro hiro are u ignoring me bc that isnt nice HIROOOO HIROOOOOO helloooooo where tf are u likeeee not tryna be sus or anything but i need u home preferably in like ten minutes no im not horny unless u want me to be 😏🤪🤪 pleaseee u asshat whyd u turn off ur location please answer? are you mad at me :( is it abt this morning? i didnt mean to brush u off i swear i didnt forget abt ur birthday and im like not planning anything or something ok please come home? ily <3 hiro Makki. hanamaki hanamaki takahiro loser baby the shadow to my sonic please respond and come home? :( youre my shrek 5 trailer OKAY BITCH FINE im sorry ur not a bitch love u mwah i mean maybe you are a bitch? but i still love u mwah mwah mwah are u even reading this i stg ill be so embarrassed if ur just busy or sum COME HOMEEEE ok bye :)

He really does think it’s adorable how much you care about this.

Rolling his eyes, he taps out a quick response:

“yea omw home” “oh, a surprise you say? ill be home soon”

He slips it into his pocket even though he feels the vibrations of the twenty or so texts that you rapid-fire send to him, most likely defending the fact that you’re definitely, absolutely not planning any shit for his ass, but he smiles to himself anyway.

He doesn’t even mind the fact he’s getting soaked in the rain. He’s excited to see what you’ve been planning.

“Home,” Hanamaki yells out. “Where are you, you big stinker?”

There isn’t an answer, which Hanamaki supposes is a little bit cliché but he doesn’t mind that much. His shared apartment with you is dark and he has to flicker on some lights through the house before he hears the faint illusion of hurried whispers. He barely makes out a voice to be yours.

“Oh! He’s here!”

“No shit he’s here. Who else comes in and yells he’s home?”

“I dunno Mattsun~ Maybe [Name]-chan has someone on the side?”

“Shut the fuck up, all of you.”

“Thank you, Hajime!”

“Shut up oh my god I think he’s listening to us.”

“Shhh!”

Hanamaki hears a dull clatter from the other room and he hides behind the wall, content with listening for a little bit longer.

“Oikawa you fucking dolt! You knocked over the forks!”

“Sorry, [Name]-chan!”

“Just pick it up already.”

“I don’t mean to burst your bubbles but I’m pretty sure he’s literally just vibing in the other room, listening to us.”

Hanamaki decides to make you all happy and takes a step. He’s kind of delighted in the way you all immediately shut up, save for your hissed quiet!, and he takes another step. Eventually he can’t take it and casually walks into the room.

It’s dark and he can’t really adjust to everything, and he’s about to say something slightly funny before the entire room illuminates and he sees his former third-year team and girlfriend yell, “Happy birthday Makki!!!!”

Makki knows that he was expecting some sort of surprise. Ever since that morning he woke up and saw you and your oddly adorable, alert face, he knew that something like this was going to happen. But still, it took just a few more seconds to register.

There was a cutely handmade banner that read Happy Birthday Makki in big, teal letters, and there were balloons strewn around the room that he knew would eventually be victims of balloon volleyball. On the table that you were all surrounding was a good, small pile of gifts and a tower of cream puffs. Not a cake, but a giant fucking tower of cream puffs.

Oh, so that’s where all the bakery’s cream puffs went.

“Oh god. You stupid idiots.” Hanamaki realizes his voice has gotten a little hoarse with sentiment, and he clears his voice and naturally, his lazy smile comes back. “I’m honored that you buffoons really planned this out for me. Clown party!”

“Be grateful, you big dummy!” You practically throw yourself onto him, and he finds himself latching onto you too. “I love you so much, Makki, happy birthday!!”

Hanamaki smiles and as if on cue, you lift up your head and smile back. He feels his heart beat a little bit faster and he remembers why he’s been loving his birthdays ever since he met you.

“Guess I love you too.”

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro scenarios #takahiro hanamaki #takahiro hanamaki x reader #takahiro hanamaki scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader scenarios #hq x reader #hq x reader scenarios #IM SO SOFT FOR HIM #i love hanamaki takahiro #stan all seijou third years!#i love him :)

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iphoenixrising · 4 years

Note

I love your writing so much. It brings me so much joy. I recently re-read your Omega!tony fanfic and I fell in love again. do you plan to continue? Maybe where you left of on part 3? I don’t want to pressure you to write, but your writing gives me life. College is huge pain in my ass and your writing just brings me back to life. BTW quick question, are you familiar with Detroit become human. Because it is amazing and I highly recommend.

Hi babe

I have not watched Detroit become Human, but I will try to check it out after Znation on Netflix lol.

Ah, you have always been so wonderfully supportive of the AOB stuff, and I appreciate you. I’ll be totally honest here when I say I have a Google Doc of like WIPs that I come back to once and a while, and crazily enough, the Marvel AOB thing is something I’d started at some point at least, so I have a bit of content.

I’m going to throw down a cut and put what I’ve got down there so you can check it out if you want. I mean, it’s not too much, but better than nothing? Lol maybe I’ll throw down what I’ve got of the Sentinel / Guide thing next ;)

There may have been things. Like this one first, this one second, and this one third. They’re from a bit ago, so probably more angst than you’ll see here, but I do love writing about WinterIronShield so there’s that. But, I do have a bit of an accent kink when it comes to the Brooklyn Boys, like how Steve kind of slips into it when he’s trying to talk Bucky down or soothe Tony’s anxieties. I just ah, well, yeahhhh.

***

Tony is writhing under that mouth, back arching helplessly. His inner Omega, now that he knows Jim and Steve wanted him before the truth ever came out, is right on board the care for the Alpha you’re been smitten with train.

Because it’s safe. It’s safe to finally, finally give in.

And Tony Stark never does anything half-way.

He faintly hears Steve make a choked noise when he wraps his legs around Jim’s waist and wiggles his wrists in the unforgiving metal hand pinning them to the bed.

He moans in Jim’s mouth and pushes back a little.

“A-Alpha,” is something he never thought he’d hear himself say again, not after everything, not after Obie pulled him out of Ty’s grip the first time (and again the second). But when Jim’s eyes dilate, when he purrs low, chest vibrating against Tony’s, the engineer feels the long trapped Omega deep in his belly start to unwind, the instincts take on a more powerful grip.

It’s easier to leans up gingerly to nose and nuzzle, fingers straining to rub at the metal wrist, knowing where the pressure sensors are, where Jim can feel it.

“So pretty,” and those winter grey eyes focus on his red mouth, “gonna take care a’ ya, sweet little ‘Mega.”

Tony tightens his thighs, hitches his hips so he rubs against Jim’s big Alpha cock, “I want– Alpha, I want–”

But he gasps when James Barnes meets his thrusts, helps work them both up to panting.

“Tell Alpha, Baby. Whadda ya need?”

And Tony’s eyes slide over to Steve, the other Alpha biting his bottom lip while he watches them together, takes in their scents, the sweetness of Tony now that the scent blockers are gone, Bucky’s musk even thicker with arousal.

They smell like heaven.

(They smell like his.)

“Steve, let me...Fuck yes, like that…” his hips twitch and jerk, “let me...let me–”

The Captain has to breathe through his mouth, try to keep them all somewhat sane here, make sure it isn’t just instincts and pheromones, needs to make sure Tony won’t regret this later, won’t run later–

(and God, Steve can just image if he lets them service him during his Heat, has to bite down on his lip hard enough to hurt, to clench his fists to keep from reaching out just by thinking of Tony wet and open for them, moaning and screaming for them, coming on their knots over and over until he can’t even move and has to let them take care of him…)

“Anything you want, Tony,” Steve tries to make it gentle, but his tone has already dropped, has the edges of a growl, “tell Bucky what you need.”

The metal hand unlocks, freeing Tony’s wrist, and the mechanic can grip the Alpha’s forearms with trembling hands since he’s already shaky with the surge of arousal, of adrenaline, of instincts long, long denied.

“Don’t–don’t bite me, don’t mate me, but I...I–”

The bitter edge to his scent, the fear of being mated against his will is enough for Jim to unceremoniously flop down on him, pin him, and nuzzle against his throat, to lick over his pulse without teeth. The nail in Tony’s coffin is when Jim moves just enough to nuzzle against his jaw and lick.

It’s a submissive move, Jim trying to ease his fear, trying to show him they won’t hurt him, won’t do something so heinous as to try and mark an unwilling Omega.

“Shhh, shhh. None a’ that. Ain’t gonna do that ta ya, Tones. Never gonna do that.”

It might be this, the way Jim’s scent gets calmer, muskier, deeper, that makes Tony’s body start warming up, getting slick, opening up to be taken, riding the instincts he’s been suppressing for so long. And he revels in it a little, shifting his hips while he stares up at Jim’s face looming over him, those winter grey eyes serious and sincere, just like when he’s settled in a perch, at peace every time he fires a weapon in the name of the Avengers.

It’s the same look when Tony’s been hurt and tries to hide away in the lab, the look when Wanda’s eyes are glazed over with old pain, and Clint gets too twitchy, too quiet. It’s the look when Steve shivers even in summer or Bruce has to back away a step, an automatic hand out to stop anyone from coming closer.

It’s not Rut or Alpha. It’s all Mother-Hen James Barnes.

And when he sees it, Tony wants too badly to trust, wants too badly to have this with an Alpha he cares about (or more, but this isn’t the time or place for all of that), an Alpha he’s wanted and denied himself over and over.

The residual fear from earlier, the panic at his long-kept secret coming out fades a little when the proof is right here on top of him, more evidence next to him sneaking a hand over the blankets to weave their fingers together.

“We won’t let that happen, Tony. I swear,” and Steve’s eyes are just as serious, squeezing Tony’s hand gently. “You don’t have to do this. It’s okay if you don’t want this, you understand that right?”

Jim leans up a little to nuzzle their faces together, “s’ good ta us, Doll. Ain’t gonna hurt ‘cha. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ ya don’t want.”

“Are you going to let me up if I panic, James? Would you let me walk out of this room right now?” It’s a terrifying thing to ask, something Tiberius would have punished him for, would have fastened his wrists and ankles with restraints, would have kept him tied to the bed for days just to make a fucking point.

Gently, Bucky Barnes rises up slowly, shaggy hair in front of his eyes, making him look like a predator backing off the hunt. He doesn’t move any further back, doesn’t get up from between Tony’s thighs, doesn’t even look away from the bare span of chest, or the curve of Tony’s cock pressing against his zipper, making both Alphas’ mouths water.

“That’s...unexpected. Nice,” the engineer babbles a little to soothe himself, “good to know that’s a possibility. But it’s not what I want–”

“Plain English for us, sweetheart,” Steve slide only close enough to press Tony’s wrist to his mouth, to roll his blue eyes up, half-mast with pupils blown, to watch the Omega while he does it.

And oh, endearing pet names?

That’s cheating.

“I haven’t had an Alpha in...years,” he rolls his eyes from one Alpha to the other, “I’m never going to talk about it, but it didn’t–there’s a reason I’ve kept it hidden. You get what I’m saying?” His hands automatically tighten down on Jim’s forearm and Steve’s hand.

“Tony,” is the rumble against his throat, gentle kisses along the tendon, the memory of their engineer’s terrified stance in the workshop.

Steve responds by standing, leaning over with his heart in his eyes, mind working at the implications, that he’d been right. Some Alpha hurt him, did awful things to make Tony this terrified for the world to know his orientation, to just let people assume he was an Alpha or a Beta. And in the years they’d been teammates and friends, all the years he’s had Iron Man at his back and Tony at Movie Nights or sparring practice, post-mission meals and impromptu picnics on the roof. So he knows, one of the few things Tony Stark respects more than smooth words and sentiments–

–is action.

He makes it clearer with the press of his mouth gently against Tony’s, gentle licks to entice him to open up, to let himself be had.

“You don’t have to hide from us anymore,” between submissive kisses.

“Gonna let us take care a’ ya instead, ain’t cha? Gonna let us be good Alphas ta ya?” And Jim leans up to watch Stevie at Tony’s mouth, the sight, the scent, bringing all his Rut symptoms closer to the surface, makes it so fucking hard to fight.

He’d had to suppress everything as The Asset, had been trained to ignore those desperate wants, had been put on suppressants to control his cycle for as long as he’d been under their control.

With the freedom to let it out, to be with his Alpha partner, to be completely open and possessive, marking what’s his.

After this, Tony Stark is going to be another thing his to add to the list. Another one he’s going to protect with his life, one his Alpha would scent mark obsessively, one his inner Winter Soldier would seek out first whenever there was trouble.

Tony turns enough to be able to talk, giving more of his throat for both Alphas. “Yes,” he pants out, even though this is a terrible idea. “I want it, want you. Both of you if I can have it.”

He closes his eyes, feels Steve nibble at his jaw, under his ear, while Jim is moving along his collarbone.

“Keep talkin’,” is lower, deeper from Steve, a hint of the Brooklyn Boy breaking lose. “How d’ya want us, Tony? Like this?” And a mouth slides lower, latches on to the tight nub on his chest, hot mouth sealing to suck.

“Maybe like this,” and Jim pulls off long enough to talk, to slide a hand in, fist the Omega’s cock at the base again while the metal one grips the back of a thigh, ruts against it with a groan.

And now it’s Steve’s scent getting heady, getting muskier, invading his senses, calling to the Omega in him, making him weave his fingers through the Alpha’s hair and hold him in place so he can arch into the sweet, sweet torture while his hips work against Jim’s hand.

“A-all of it. I want all of it,” is broken with a whine when his jeans and boxers are finally shoved down his legs, tossed carelessly away.

Both Alphas pull off him, pull away to sit back and look their fill.

It makes him squirm under their intense gazes, makes him turn away, his face getting warm.

“Sssh, sssh,” Steve come close enough to palm his face and turn him back, to make him look at them looking at him, “that’s it. We need to see you, Tony. We need to make sure you want this, so no looking away.”

“Be good fer us, Doll,” Jim moans, panting, running his hand up, up, up until he can feel the wetness, can open his palm to cup Tony’s balls, slide his other hand up to the base of their Omega’s cock, give him a few easy tugs. “That’s right, getting nice n’ wet. Betcha gonna be so tight f’ me, betcha I can make ya keen.”

“Yes, fuck, please,” Tony pants, trying so hard to be still when they’re still touching him, looking at him with heat and fondness. “I...I’ll be good.”

Steve leans in to nuzzle at his nose, being tender about it when his chest starts rumbling, a gentle purr while he makes his way to the engineer’s mouth. “If something isn’t right, what’s your safe word, Sweetheart?”

“I–” but his hips jerk uncontrollably when the first touch to his opening is so much and still moremoremore. He shudders, just tries to breathe out.

“Easy, Buck. This first,” and the smaller Alpha growls a little and shifts down to bury his mouth against Tony’s thighs instead.

“That’s it. Come back, Tony,” more nuzzles that feel nice and safe, slick tongue sliding over his femoral, kiss of teeth still making him breathless.

Jim keeps two fingers moving through his slick, teasing him with every pass over his opening despite the Captain’s orders.

“Color system,” helplessly, he pushes his hips into the touch, trying to get what’s just a promise with fingertips barely breaching him.

Steve gives him a dazzling smile, rewards him for being somewhat lucid with a thumb swirling over his nipple, teasing it into a peak.

“Red, Yellow, Green, Doll?” But Bucky doesn’t look away from the sight. Their pretty Omega laying out with Steve blanketing him, keeping him calm so Bucky can work him nice n’ dirty. He gets to move up and mouth at the Omega’s broad curve, running his tongue up the vein until he’s sucking at the head, teasing the slit to get a taste.

“Buck!” Steve reprimands half-heartedly when Tony cries out against his throat arching up into Steve’s hand.

“Yesyesyes fine, red, yellow, green, got it!” Tony manages to grit out between his teeth when warm and wet slides over him, and it’s a struggle whether to bury himself in Jim’s mouth or push back against those fingers, to get something deeper, closer to where he’s starting to need it.

His scent gets stronger, his arousal adding another layer of spicy sweet. Steve shamelessly buries his face in the side of Tony’s throat and breathes deep, a groan making his chest rumble.

“Come on already,” he pants, “isn’t there an Alpha in Rut somewhere around here?”

“Shh, Tony. It’s okay. Your pheromones are keeping him under control until we get you ready,” the blond licks over his throbbing pulse, shamelessly groaning when he gets to scent-mark their engineer.

“Are you kidding me? I’m ready, like yesterday kind of ready–”

Steve catches his mouth a second after a bite to his thigh in admonishment makes him jump.

“If you want Bucky’s cock, then you’re going to have to wait until he preps you,” is that Captain America giving an order kind of tone.

“This is such bullshit,” he whines, helplessly pinned by two beautiful Alphas.

“Don’t worry, Doll. We’re gonna take good care a’ ya.”

The next roll of his hips and the fingers catch on his rim, burying themselves deep. The noise is obscene, but Steve won’t let him turn away, licks at his mouth until he opens up.

His noises are muffled, his fists clenching when the slow slide starts, Jim trying to be easy with him, gentle.

Which is absolutely not what he needs, not after so long, not with how good they smell, how heady their combined musk is making him, how much he suddenly needs to take care of Jim’s Rut, help him sate the biological imperative.

He doesn’t realize Steve’s trying to worm his fingers between Tony’s still clenched in the bedding, just squeezes when longer fingers interlace. It’s as much holding him still as comforting him while he groans around Steve’s tongue at the quickening thrusts.

The low growl becomes a rolling purr, is James Buchannon Barnes sinking deeper into his inner Alpha, the instincts he doesn’t have to suppress, and that could be why he isn’t a raging animal right now – almost seventy years without a Rut notwithstanding.

By all rights, if he was a normal Alpha hitting Rut, he should be throwing Steve right the hell off his Omega and fucking into the engineer immediately to sate the growing need.

If he hadn’t been tortured out of his Alpha instincts by Hydra, if he hadn’t been on and off deep freeze, if it wasn’t Tony under him, he might have gone into a Rage and fucked the Omega until he screamed for it.

He adds another finger, mouth watering at the scent of Tony’s slick, the wet squelch telling him the Omega wanted this, wanted him, wanted them.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” said against Steve’s mouth when the thrust of fingers gets faster, harder, and he arches his back up into them.

“So good for us, Tony,” Steve noses his face to the side to lick over his pulse again, set his teeth in the meat of their mechanic’s shoulder. “Just a little more. How’s he doing, Buck?”

“Fucking beautiful, Stevie,” and Jim licks his lips, eyes all for the show, “he’s so ready, so wet. Gonna work ‘im a lil’ more, get ‘im crying for it.”

Steve looks over his shoulder and grins shamelessly at the expression on Bucky’s face, the one that’s completely focused on what he’s doing.

That’s when Tony gets with the program because he’s just about done being tortured. All it takes is for a hand to wiggle in front of Steve’s crotch and palm him through his pants, give a few squeezing strokes. It makes Steve rear up, gasping in pleasure as Tony planned, so he can move his other hand to Jim and pull those fingers out of his wet ass. It’s more instinct that guides him to rise to his knees and face the Alphas head on.

“Let me service you through your Rut, Alpha,” is all Jim needs to hear from the beautiful Omega, naked on his knees, smelling like ready, willing, and waiting. He’s flushed with pleasure, with their marks on his skin, and he’s–

–presenting.

It’s something so terribly traditional as Tony turns around and lowers his chest to the bed, spreading his knees to offer himself.

Jim’s mouth falls open in soft awe, and Steve makes a noise that sounds painful.

But Tony turns his face to the side, looking back, mouth open and kiss-swollen, pink down to his chest, and his hands move up the back of his thighs until he spreads himself, giving them the show of a lifetime.

“Alpha...take me.”

Is really James Buchannon Barnes’ undoing.

“S-Stevie,” is a low growl, the Alpha in him hitting some hard limits. “He yelps, ya pull me back, no matter what.”

Breathing in through his mouth, Steve moves off the bed with one last shuffle of fingers through Tony’s sweaty hair, “don’t worry, Buck, I won’t let cha hurt ‘im. You hear that, sweetheart? You’re gonna check in, okay?”

“Mmm,” Tony braces his elbows and lowers his back on instinct, feeling the muscles stretch, “green. Green, Alpha.”

#winter answers #with wip #AOB #tagged for anon #tony stark #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes #winterironshield #omega!tony #alpha!buck #alpha!steve #not finished #my fic #my writing

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hemera989 · 4 years

Note

:) Hello! Could I ask for 8, 21, 24, and 27 please?

YES I apologize that this took so long! and thank u for asking, ur a blessing

8. Favorite dialogue in your wip?

Ohhh this is a hard one, I’m gonna take a few creative liberties w/ this and use WIP in the sense of the most recent chapter of my WIPs? So for ‘rose glasses’, that would be this!

“Of course,” Daichi said, and when she stood, she reached out to take Shura’s face in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Anything for you.”

Because Daichi is becoming one of my favorite OCs (my only real major one but shhh), and I love writing established romances! There’s just more freedom to write domestic love and affection, which is one of my favorite parts of writing Shura and Daichi. Also because in context, this line of dialogue is definitely foreshadowing.

For ‘brother mine’, my favorite line in ch 5 would be this-

"He's Rin," Yukio murmurs, tucking his hands into his lap. "If this is his revenge, then- then I deserve it, don't I?"

UGHH this makes me sad to re-read, because it just shows what I think is Yukio’s mindset through this fic, and his character as a whole. This draws back on my analysis post, with how Yukio believes that he’s an inherently bad and unlikable person, and now he’s made a major mistake that has sent his mental health careening down to the floor. He feels like he deserves the cruel things that are happening to him, and tends to be just a bit dramatic with this. He’s done something he believes Rin can’t forgive him for, and so this is Rin’s subconscious acting on his hidden desires.

21. How do you come up with titles? Do you use placeholders or tend to change your titles while writing the first draft?

I usually don’t have titles for fanfics until I go to post them, or share them with others! I do put a lot of thought into titles (though I know I’m nowhere near the only one), so it’s nice to get the chance to talk about them! I usually create titles based on the mood of the piece, but all are based on the content! ‘brother mine’s title was one I felt fit both the drama and the content of the fic, while ‘through rose colored glasses’ was based on the saying! My oneshots have a little less thought put in. My Shiro/Yuri NSFW fanfic, as well as ‘just one more try’ are more humor based and descriptive of what happens in the fanfic. As for my oneshot/collections, the titles are just short little peeks of various themes or objects within the fic!

24. Do you let your story evolve as you write or do you meticulously plan everything prior to writing the first draft?

A mix of both tbh! I like to have somewhat of a plan for how my fics are going to go (because if I don’t have sight of the end, I tend to lose interest or wander away from it) but I do have a tendency to fiddle with things as I go! ‘rose glasses’ is a perfect example- this fic has grown way bigger than I initially planned! The Tottori arc wasn’t even part of my initial plan, nor many of the other events I have planned!

27. Do you have playlists for your wip? What are some of the songs in it?

OMG okay my playlists are. so scattered and varied omg. For ‘rose glasses’, I tend to listen to orchestral music to help me focus, like FFXV soundtracks, Xenoblade Chronicles 2, Legend of Zelda, as well as lofi sometimes when it strikes me to! ‘brother mine’ usually has me listening to Billie Eilish while I’m writing (and you can kinda tell LMAO). For some, I won’t have any music playing, or I’ll listen to various Alternative playlists, or more orchestral music!

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Five People’s Thoughts on Adore and Bianca: Raven & Raja (3-4/5) (Biadore) - doctor bitchcraftt

A series of conversations between Raja and Raven, with appearances from Shangela and Mariah. Dialogue-driven rather than a narrative, because I live for Raja and Raven’s interactions. Also? Raja is a legitimate witch.

1. Courtney Act

2. Laganja Estranja

3 & 4. Raja & Raven

5. Trixie Mattel (WIP)

A/N: One of the more fun perspectives I’ve written from, particularly since Fashion Photo Review was one of the things that got me hooked on Drag Race. Raven & Raja are goddesses. Xoxoxoxo, bitchcraftt

********

Raven leaned forward far enough to see past the shimmering curtains out to the audience.

Shangela was tearing up the runway, to everyone’s obvious delight. As she watched along with them, movement in the first row caught her attention.

Sitting pressed together from shoulder to knee, Bianca and Adore out of drag looked like any other couple enjoying an evening at Micky’s. Adore’s head dipped briefly onto Bianca’s shoulder, receiving an indulgent smile in response. Moments later and completely unprompted, Bianca casually reached over to squeeze Adore’s knee.

”Sure you want to stay back here all night?”

”Yeah,” Raja sighed, “too many people wanting the full Raja experience and it’s been forever since I saw you.”

Raven pressed a kiss to her cheek, and they fell back into comfortable silence.

“What are you looking at?”

Raja’s voice interrupted Raven’s voyeurism, and she turned to find her lounging lazily against the wall, wineglass held precariously in hand. Partial drag was a good look on her (any look was a good look for Raja, honestly), the natural grey of her hair setting off her painted eyes.

She gestured vaguely towards the stage with her drink.

“Bianca needs to wear more color. All of that black makes her look small.”

Raja breathed out a mellow laugh.

”She is small. How many of those have you had if you’re forgetting that?”

”Do you think-“ Raven started then paused, trying to get her thoughts in order while simultaneously checking the set list and blotting her forehead with a powder puff.

”Hmmm?” Raja handed her a napkin for the sweaty cocktail balanced on her knee.

They both applauded as Shangela finished her set, and Raven headed back on stage to introduce the next performer.

********

Half an hour later, she picked up the thread of conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

“Ever think the two of them are together?”

”Who?”

Raven raised an elegant eyebrow, but Raja was too busy peering out into the audience again to appreciate the look.

”Bianca and her little drag baby.”

”Oh.” She didn’t sound surprised. At all. Actually…Raven thought she seemed more contemplative than anything else.

”Yes? Or no.”

”Depending on how you look at it, yes and no.”

Turning to face Raja fully, she waited for an explanation, keeping an ear out for the change in music.

“Well?”

“Bianca told me once that she didn’t do boyfriends because she didn’t have enough time to commit properly.”

Raven blinked at what appeared to be a tangential statement, but probably would end up being relevant.

“That bitch, out of everyone we know, could make time for anything.”

She waited patiently for a response as Raja took another sip of wine and waved at a local queen passing through.

”It’s complicated between them.”

”Obviously.”

”Bianca is almost as old as I am.”

Raven snorted.

”Don’t tell me it’s an age gap.”

Lifting her glass to punctuate the previous statement, Raja continued.

“There’s almost…It’s easy to forget that Adore is almost thirty. She’s still figuring out how to be completely comfortable in her skin. She’s so young in a lot of ways. In some ways, that makes the difference even more obvious. And Bianca has been at this for half of her life - and way more than half of Adore’s.”

“Well, she’s practically her drag daughter at this point. But,” Raven checked the stage again, “they’re way too comfortable for that to be a problem.”

“I wasn’t finished.”

A sweaty Shangela came off stage and ushered the local girl on before heading over.

”What’s the tea?”

Raven smiled and patted the bench next to her. “Sit down. We’re trying to decide if Bianca and Adore are fucking.”

”Raven thinks they’re fucking. I,” Raja deliberately flicked her hair over her shoulder, “was trying to explain that it’s more complicated.”

They both waited expectantly while she drained a bottle of water.

“My opinion?” Shangela dabbed at her forehead delicately. “Miss Bianca is too direct to not go for it if she wanted to. And Adore, well, god bless that horny little thing. She’d have jumped her if she wanted.”

Standing up, she air kissed them both and left in a cloud of neon fringe for her next costume change. Raven headed back on stage, and somehow they didn’t manage to finish the conversation before the night was over.

********

Another Monday at Micky’s. Adore and Bianca were once again seated in the corner near the beginning of the stage, clearly a few drinks in each.

”She’s got to be in total control, or else gets so drunk she doesn’t have to be,” Raja announced.

”What?” Raven’s glass was empty and she signaled a server for a refill.

“You know who. Bianca.”

“She’s a drag queen, drinking is part of the job. Fuck, no one I know can function as well as Bianca does when she’s drunk.”

Raja nodded slowly. Tonight she was completely her boy self, lending an air of casual chic to a slouchy deconstructed sweater and jeans.

"We were talking about Bianca and Adore.”

“Rave, you’ve known Adore for what, over a decade? Since she was a baby queen. And what’s her defining energy?”

“Messy slut?”

“I was going to say disorder, but that’s close enough. Mix that with Bianca’s control and you’ve either got the worst combination of opposites or two people that complement each other perfectly.”

“So opposites attract. It’s hardly news. We’ve seen how they look at each other on and off stage. And it sounds like most of the internet has too.”

“Half the net thinks we’re fucking, or haven’t you read the comments out there?”

Raven ignored the question entirely, watching as Bianca draped an arm around Adore’s shoulders without even looking as they carried on two separate conversations between sets.

"Bianca and Adore. Practically on each other’s laps. And that weird no-talking-but-I-know-right-where-you-are thing that they do.”

“We do that.” Raja drained her glass and set it carefully aside.

"You didn’t pay for me to fix this hairline. Or hang all over me all of the time when you’re sober.“

"That’s Martin’s job - ”

“You know,” Mariah’s voice cut in, “Adore made a whole video post about borrowing Bianca’s running shoes in Australia.”

Raven raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Couples share clothes,” she pointed out.

Raja gave them both a look over the rim of her now-full wineglass.

"Bianca loaned Manila two whole outfits for All Stars that she hasn’t given back yet. And I don’t think anyone thinks they’re fucking.”

"That’s drag. We’ve all done it,” Raven pointed out. “This is boy clothes.”

“Awww, you wouldn’t let me borrow your shoes?”

“Your raptor toes wouldn’t fit.”

“Ha ha. Whose side are you on anyway?” Raja demanded when Mariah snickered helplessly at Raven’s jab.

“Oh, most definitely theirs.”

“Gonna tell us what you know?”

Mariah grinned wickedly.

“Nope.”

********

“There’s more sexual tension between them than people who are actually fucking, then. Look,” Raven tugged Raja over until she could see. As they watched, Adore and Bianca laughed along with the rest of the audience at something the queen had done on the runway. Mid-laugh, Adore twisted in her seat to look at Bianca, head tilted and a soft look in her eyes.

“And?”

“Adore practically looks like one of those heart eyes emojis.”

Raja shook her head with that enigmatic half-smile that made Raven want to simultaneously hug her and shake her until she answered.

********

“It’s better than sex though, isn’t it?”

“…suuuuuuure." Raven didn’t sound convinced.

"Think about it.” Raja gestured eloquently with her free hand before settling back on the chair. “Can you see Bianca putting minimal effort into anything? She doesn’t let herself have the time to meet someone and direct her energy into a relationship, and you know how many race chasers are out there.”

”Bitch needs to get her dick sucked more often. Unless you finally agree that she and Adore are hooking up?”

Predictably, Raja continued down her original train of thought.

“Other than sex, she’s got all of the best parts in Adore already - best friend, someone to take care of, someone who understands what we do. And Bianca is exactly what Adore needs to stay grounded and let loose together.”

“You’re not convincing me that they aren’t fucking out their frustrations together.”

“It’s safe for them to love each other, because they’re never going to hurt each other like you do in a relationship. Sex is simple, but having the kind of bond they do? Worth way more, and I don’t care what you say, I’m sticking to that.”

Raven sighed, not sure why they hadn’t just asked the two of them rather than wading through Raja’s musings.

“Oh go ahead, I’ll just watch Bianca shade you into next week.”

She was positive she hadn’t voiced that thought aloud.

”I hate it when you do that.”

“No you don’t.”

”Raja,” she sighed again, “not everything is always profoundly spiritual.”

Raja set down the now-empty glass and fixed her with a look that said she was being incredibly dense. From anyone else, Raven would have bristled, but over the years she’d learned to trust Raja’s instincts.

Mostly.

“Give me your hands.”

With a bland expression, Raja folded her fingers around Raven’s, not squeezing but gently holding.

“…what-“

”Shhh, just concentrate.”

”On?”

A tingling buzz started to grow where their palms made contact. Raja’s energy manipulation was hardly surprising anymore, but she closed her eyes without being asked.

“This is what Adore feels like when you touch her.” The buzz grew sharper, brightness mixed with playful nudges of static.

“And this,” she murmured with a squeeze of their fingers, “is Bianca.” Immediately, the erratic frissons of energy subsided in her left hand. As Raja breathed out, the flow became regimented, controlled and steady with the impression of overwhelming power behind it.

Opening her eyes, Raven nodded and the buzz dwindled down to nothing. Not that she would be able to describe the feelings, but they nonetheless made sense.

“This,” Raja sounded mischievous, “is how it feels when you’re in lust.”

Heat filled her entire body and Raven was suddenly acutely aware of all of the sounds and smells surrounding them. A spark of pure fire raced up both palms, through her corsetted midsection, and settled just above her tuck.

”Very funny,” she muttered, shaking her hands free.

Raja didn’t look the least bit sorry. Recapturing her fingers, she continued.

”The kind of love they have? It’s like this.”

This time, the playful buzz in one hand and solid strength in the other met each other in the middle of her body, melting together. The sensation was warm instead of raging hot, gliding up her arms and settling in her chest. Her own heartbeat fluttered briefly before slowing into a hypnotically steady beat. Raven felt the tension in her shoulders relax as an undefined feeling of rightness descended. It was how she felt falling asleep cradling Martin, lazy afternoons watching tv while working on a new outfit, laughing with Raja in the basement at WOW Presents.

Raja gently released her hands, but the sense of safety and calm affection remained.

”Adore needs that kind of stabilizing energy. And Bianca needs to feel it’s safe to be loved, that she has permission to be vulnerable.”

Oh.

********

Later on, after Raja had recharged her witchy batteries with hugs and being social, Raven pulled her aside and smirked. "Think they just couldn’t figure out how to both be tops?”

“Bitch, like you’d know anything about it."

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #adore delano #biadore #raja gemini #raven #humor #fluff #five thoughts #canon compliant #doctor bitchcraftt

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nadunacreates · 4 years

Note

1, 4, 20

thank you!

1: SUMMARIZE YOUR WIP IN 10 WORDS OR LESS.

superpowers, corrupt heroes, secret identities and chaotic schemes, hate-love-betrayal-forgiveness.

•

4: DESCRIBE THE SETTING OF YOUR WIP.

there’s a pinterest page for that xD the images that are not pinned to any section + the ones under “the shop”.

but, here’s a description in words:

i’m not quite sure yet if any of this will actually stay this way, but for now it’s set in some kind of post-apocalyptic city, but where the apocalypse wasn’t all that bad, really. i just don’t have a better word for it – just imagine 2012 went differently and the earth was hit by a “meteor” (it wasn’t really a meteor but shhh, people don’t know that).

so basically it’s set in a city generally similar to nyc, but close to both the ocean and mountains that no one really dares to venture in (because dangerous things lurk there… allegedly). it’s a big city with tall buildings and there are areas that are very high-technology while others are mostly just ruins?

people from all over the world have fled to this city, which is not set in what would be present day america. i like to think it’s in switzerland but where the apocalypse has destroyed some of the countries around it to make way for the ocean? (can you tell i’m mostly making this up on the spot? i really haven’t developed the setting the way i should, yet. i’ve been hoping i’d get away with being vague.)

but what i do know is the aesthetic: there are very cold winters with not much in terms of snow, but definitely a lot of fog and generally autumn-y aesthetic. also the neon purple / pink / electric blue is featured very strongly here, along with the tall buildings that reach into the sky. lots of places in the city are in a state of constant disrepair, because the villains love causing destruction but of course they never clean up after themselves. we’re out at night a lot with our mcs.

to contrast this, there’s the warm ambience of the coffee shop slash bakery that our mc moe works in, situated right next to a bookshop that she could spend hours in if she wasn’t so busy. there’s also the workshop of moe’s best friend’s grandfather where moe works at in her spare time, which i think will become more important to the story later on. just imagine an old garage with lots of spare parts lying around and lots of space for car-tinkering and more scientific experiments to take place.

then there’s the other mc kaliope who works at a newspaper with the bustling setting of such a business. fast-paced and filled with people, tv screens, the rustling of paper and keyboard clacking.

the mountains and the harbor will also have big impact on our characters, i think.

•

20: POST A BRIEF EXCERPT.

so i was going to say that i don’t really have a good excerpt to post other than the ones i already posted, but still resigned myself to look through the draft and see what I wrote these past two days, but then i figured out some background on one of the character that makes me really excited for writing right now and in the flow it this scene happened that i kinda really like?

(i don’t know if Farren actually is going to be a more prevalent character or not, but it seems that they just want to leave me alone at the moment! they’re gender fluid and currently using she/her pronouns; Boss is the character i got really excited about, and well, Moe is one of the MCs, a superhero.)

TW for the depiction of a panic attack, and, seeing as i luckily never had to experience one of those yet i don’t really know the best way to deal with it and made this up on the spot, will have to do some research later on.

well, i don’t know about brief, but. i’d love to hear your thoughts! (i put most of it under the cut, so read on there (: )

•

“So, Kaliope seems like an interesting girl.”

“Go away.” Moe scrubs extra hard at that bit of honey sticking to the countertop.

“She does.”

“Well, you don’t get to adopt her, too.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Your pick. She’s already got a job. You don’t need any more children to take care of. She can very well take care of herself — as can I, by the way.”

“What makes you think she has a job?”

Not her too, now. “Why are you even still here, Farren?”

She shrugs in response, all false carelessness. “Had nothing better to do?”

Moe and Boss both stare at her and don’t say anything else. It takes approximately five seconds for Farren to give up and throw her hands toward the heavens. “Well, what does it matter? We were interrogating Moe, not me.”

“We weren’t interrogating anyone!” Moe protests.

“No, we were,” Boss says nonchalantly, “but this is more important — were you not safe at home?”

“No! Why do you always think the worst?! It was just that… well, I was supposed to go out with some friends and they cancelled on me, but I was sick of hanging out alone at home, so. Since Moe is a stupid martyr who doesn’t know how to take care of herself it wasn’t such a far stretch to come here instead.” A pause. Farren crosses her arms, glares at both of them. “There. Happy now?”

Uh oh. That look in Boss’ eyes never bodes well. Moe is always kind of afraid to imagine what it must have been to oppose him during his still-complete days, as he calls them. When he was one of the people Moe now fights on a regular basis, out to cause mayhem and destruction.

“Happy with you, yes,” Boss says, slowly. Turns on Moe, then. Nope, not caving. “But you, young lady. What is Farren talking about?”

The penny dropped for Farren, now, too, and she winces, turns an apologetic glance on Moe. She looks away, busies herself with the cleaning rag instead, goes to wipe down the tables, but Boss moves so he’s in her way, and she’d at the very least have to look up into his face to get through.

Moe lets her shoulders sag as she sighs instead, rubs at her face. “Nothing. Farren is talking about nothing.” She’s exhausted, and doesn’t trust herself to come up with any better excuses.

“Moe.” Gods, how she hates that tone of voice. So calm and rational, undemanding but lending an open ear.

“It’s just… a thing happened, yesterday, and I just had to get away from it for a while. Forget.”

“A thing? Yesterday?” Farren asks. “Are we talking about the same thing here? It’s not that recent.”

“Well, no. But… it may have been related?”

Farren’s usually olive-toned face pales considerably. “You didn’t.”

“Not on purpose, you can believe me when I say that.” The bitter laugh scrapes at the walls of her throat, makes them feel tender and raw, makes her bite her lip, hard, and hope for the best.

She tastes blood.

“Would any one of you care to fill me in? Any time now?” Boss tends to get annoyed when he isn’t in the loop of things. Right now, he just sounds gentle.

Gods, Moe must look a mess for him to pity her like that.

The girls share a glance. Technically, it’s none of his business. Technically, he’s also not their dad. That’s never stopped him from acting like it, and him technically being a retired super villain also hasn’t stopped his employees from trusting him with their lives, even though that detail is more of an open secret than an acknowledged fact.

Another sigh, then Moe steels her shoulders, breathes in, and says on the breath out, “itoldlisathati’minlovewithherandshereallydidn’ttakeitwellithink.”

Boss blinks at her, owlishly. “You did what now?”

Moe breathes in, breathes out. This is okay. This is fine. She knows she did that, never mind she never really got to acknowledge it. This tiny detail somehow got lost in the much bigger drama of telling her best friend that she’s a superhero, even when knowing that saying said best friend really doesn’t like superheroes is a severe understatement. But since she really can’t tell this part to her co-workers it has to be the other part of it. And it’s bad, isn’t it? That Lisa hasn’t even acknowledged it? Does it make the other thing better or worse? Gods, what did Moe even do, last night? Is she crazy?

Moe breathes, but the room still starts spinning around her, and her breath goes faster and faster, hurts on the way in, is pure agony on the way out. Fuck. Fuck.

She puts a hand in her hair, clenches her fingers and pulls at the roots until it hurts. Fuck.

It should be fine.

“I think she’s having a panic attack,” someone says, but it sounds as though the person is underwater somewhere, or maybe Moe is, and she’s drowning, and there’s water in her lungs and stinging salt in her eyes and the sea is cold and harsh and unforgiving, pulling at her body and forcing it down onto the floor, pressing down at her shoulders and making her open her eyes, making her look into Farren’s and watching them glint with determination, watching Farren’s mouth move and count out one, two, three, say hold, and in and one two three, and Moe’s chest moves in time with hers and then the ocean pulls back, releases her from its unforgiving hold, but not without a warning that she better be careful next time, that it’s always there and waiting to welcome her back.

“That bad, huh?” Farren says with little humour in her voice when Moe comes back to it, sitting on her knees on the floor, panting as though she’s just been through three rounds with a local minor villain.

She laughs, pushes back her sweat-slicked hair, puts her face in her hands. Just breathes for a while. Then: “That bad, yeah.” Fuck.

It was supposed to be fine.

•

ask me other things!

#raevenlywrites #answering asks #wip ask game #wip: heroes bleed red #i'm so bad at writing a log line for this wip so i just gave up and meshed these words together #it's not really a summary is it?#whoops #also i probably went a little overboard with the setting #but hey #i once again learned new things that i didn't know before so that's amazing #and that excerpt... eep #i like it right now #but tomorrow will probably a different story b #because right now is like half past one in the morning #and i had an EXHAUSTING day today #but i wrote like 5k+ words #so that's grat #*great #ugh #let me go to bed now #but!#thank you so much for the ask!#and anyone else who wants to send some in please do #i linked the wip i'm talking about in the summary sentence #my writing #naduna creates #i should actually learn to use my tags #hbr: excerpt

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sundaynightnovels · 5 years

Text

OC Interview Tag

i was tagged by @quiescentwriting, who is amazing, so thank you so much!! Guidelines: Answer these 12 questions in the voice and manner of your character(s) and then tag as many or as few writeblrs as you would like. Following in her example, i’ll answer this for Teng, with comments made by Jun, from my wip like all things out of season. 1. What did you have for breakfast?

Teng: Breakfast? Ah, well, that is an interesting question... I certainly got up in time for breakfast -- Jun: I don’t even think you woke up at all yesterday. Teng: What nonsense! I was entirely awake! My eyes were wide open! What do you think I was doing, just rolling around in bed staring at the ceiling while sitting in my own filth for the whole day? Do you think I’m that sort of person? Jun: ... Teng: What’s with that silence?? that sounds more like an accusation! Oi, don’t ignore me!

2. Who was the last person you crushed on?

Jun: (sniggers) Teng: This is a little embarrassing... Jun: Wasn’t the last person you crushed on that girl from the supermarket? Teng: Well... she was really hardworking and diligent... she seems like she’ll be a wonderful person to know... Jun: Or was it that girl who served you coffee in the tavern the other morning?Teng: I mean... she was so cute... and pretty... and kind... Jun: Oh? Or could it be... Teng: ... Jun: Ha, it’s Zhen isn’t it? It’s Zhen! You fell for her once you tasted her food! But it’s weird, she wasn’t even the one to offer it to you. If you should have a crush on anyone, shouldn’t it be Shou? Teng: Shhh!!! Jun: Also, she threw a fish at you before. Could it be? Are you that sort of person? Do you enjoy this type of abus -- Teng: Shhhhh! No, I don’t! And don’t go spoiling what happens in the novel! We’ve gone through this before!

3. What is your favorite read? Teng: ... Jun: ... Teng: Well, there was something that I read recently -- Jun: Your thoughts don’t count. Teng: O-Of course! I mean, uh, I was reading something recently that was very interesting -- Jun: The nonsense you hear from Shou’s mouth doesn’t count either. Teng: I mean, y-yes, but... Jun: Teng doesn’t read. There’s nothing embarrassing about that. What’s embarrassing is his pants. Teng: Yeah, there’s nothing -- wait, what? What’s wrong with my pants? Don’t leave me hanging like this! Did you let me walk around the streets the entire day like that??? Jun???? Jun!!!

4. Do you put both socks on first, or one sock, one shoe?

Jun: Bold of you to assume that he wears socks at all Teng: Stop saying things like that! I do! I do!! I wear both socks first! Jun: He’s the type that can’t multitask. If he wears one sock and one shoe, chances are he’ll forget about both the sock and the shoe for his other foot. Teng: No I won’t! What kind of person do you think I am???

5. What can you cook perfectly?

Teng: I am actually a pretty good cook. Jun: Since when? Teng: I’m especially adept at cooking fried rice. It is actually an art, you know. People think that fried rice is basically just rice fried with leftover ingredients from the dinner from the night before. Jun: That’s exactly what it is Teng: But I’ve made an art out of it. It is a meticulous, painfully-crafted process that no one can replicate. It is magnificent! It is brilliant! I don’t let others taste it too often, because once they get a bite out of my infamous fried rice, they’ll be ensnared forever. They wouldn’t be able to live without having another bite! That is far too high a responsibility for me to hold, I do not want to lead people astray in this manner. Jun: He has to cook his own meals because there is never any food left when he comes to dinner. And no one dares to eat his fried rice. You wouldn’t want to either, if you knew what was inside. Teng: I cook it with all of my heart! You wouldn’t get another plate of fried rice made more lovingly! Jun: That’s precisely it. 6. If you could choose a pet, what would it be?

Teng: Ah, I have always wanted a pet. I think any would be fine, I love all animals! Jun: Funny, though. I don’t think you can get one. Teng: Why not? Jun: I don’t think a bear can own pets.

7. How is your relationship with your parents?

Teng: I actually don’t remember them too well. I mean, my past was a long time ago. If I don’t remember them, I think it’s probably one of two things: it’s probably so average that I can’t remember anything about it, or i don’t have parents in the first place. Jun: You forgot a third option. 8. How do you feel about marriage?

Jun: Uh oh, you shouldn’t bring that up. Teng: Marriage? You’re asking me about marriage? Jun: Now he’s going to spend the rest of the day lamenting about his lack of romantic prospects. Are you happy now?

9. Do you fold your clothes before bed?

Jun: Ha. Teng: Shut up, Jun! Yes I do! I am actually a very neat person! I don’t know why Jun is trying to suggest otherwise!

10. What does your dream home look like? And where would it be?

Teng: Well... Jun: ... Teng: I think I already have everything that I want.

11. What’s your worst habit?

Teng: The biggest regret I have right now is bringing Jun into the gang. That’s my worst habit. I bring all these terrible men in and I have to suffer for it. Jun: That’s not a habit. Teng: I should have left him alone that day. I shouldn’t have been kind enough to open my safe for him. Jun: I thought you said no spoilers? Teng: I shouldn’t have allowed him to hold me at knife-point and -- Jun: Okay, next question!

12. What do you do for a living and how do you feel about your job?

Teng: I guess I’m a gang leader. I don’t know. I never really thought about making a gang. I just wanted to build a home for people to live in. Jun: You literally go around threatening people and you’re saying you didn’t mean to make a gang? Teng: I never meant to threaten people! Jun: Then how would you explain cornering a poor female shop assistant and demanding for her name and address and the right to a date? Teng: I never demanded anything from her! I just... you know that I don’t function well in front of women! You know that I can’t speak to them! Actually... it was you! You made it worse! You started counting down from 5 seconds to force her into a decision! Jun: (shrugs) I was just following your lead. Teng: Shou was right, it’s really you! You have been the one sabotaging my chances! -- interview abruptly ends -- Alright so that was fun! I’m going to tag the lovelies on my tag list (ask to be on / off) @cabaretofwords @inked-waves @latechickadee @kidsarentallwrite && other lovelies @insearchof-solace @rktho-writes @inexorableblob @focusdumbass @ofvisitorsthefairest

#like all things out of season #character tag #teng #jun #interview tag #my wip #my writing #my OCs #writeblr

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somuchtowrite · 5 years

Text

Novel Prep Tag Game

I was tagged by @things-waiting-to-be-written, thank you so much!! (sorry it’s taken me forever to get to it!!)

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! Even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

I’ll be doing this for my main WIP, Lark and Eli:)

FIRST LOOK

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

Eli Park is forced to go from human to mage to hero, and he’s not happy about it. But he’ll do anything it takes to save his family, whether it be his brother and sister or the fame he’s making in the process.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

Seeing as I’ve already finished the first draft of the first book, I already know it can’t be a standalone. I’m thinking it might end up being a trilogy, but I can’t know for sure until it’s written!! We’ll see where the story takes me:)

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Hmmm. I’m not really sure how to answer this one, but I’d say it would be very black and white?? There’s a lot of conflicting ideals and characters, and I think that represents that pretty well.

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Funnily enough, the inspiration for it came from the Wattpad book Down Come Seven by Shayni (which I still love to this day, you should definitely look it up and check it out!!). Since then, though, the story grew and evolved so much that I can’t even see the aspects they used to share. Even the genre has changed since then!! It used to be science fiction, but ended up being fantasy.

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

(Yes, I know I’ve already used two of these pictures for character moodboards. Shhh, there’s a reason I chose them)

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

Eli Park, mage extraordinaire who doesn’t know what he’s doing and figuring it out as he goes.

7. Who is their closest ally?

All of the mages have to stick together, whether they like it or not (*cough* Andrea *cough*). Still, Eli trusts Lark more than anyone else at the castle, even though she’s part of the reason he’s stuck there.

8. Who is their enemy?

Let’s just say Kane is the one causing him the most problems at the moment.

9. What do they want more than anything?

Short-term, to find his brother and sister and get back home. Long-term, for them to love him as much as he loves them, however impossible it might seem.

10. Why can’t they have it?

Well, short-term, the goal is to find out where they are and it’s no small feat. But his real desire, the one he can’t ignore no matter how hard he tries to repress it, is a bit more complicated. Maybe things would be easier if Naomi didn’t hate him and try to turn Matthias against him any chance she got.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Eli can never shake away the feeling that he’s doing something wrong, and now that feeling is shoved down his throat every day that goes by without his brother and sister. What if he fails? What if he doesn’t find them? What if he can never go home? If anyone is going to mess it up, it’s going to be him--at least, that’s what he thinks.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

He’s biracial (Vietnamese and Caucasian) and he likes to keep his dark, wavy hair short and out of the way. He has tan skin and naturally some acne, like any other teenager. He’s average height (still growing), and skinny with not much muscle.

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

He needs to balance his need to save his siblings with his undeniable urge to get to the bottom of Kane’s plan. Something isn’t adding up, but he has to learn how to juggle that with what’s important, which is saving his family and getting out of there.

14. What is the external conflict?

Doing the actual saving. Matthias and Naomi are gone, and he’s the only one who can bring them home. If only he could do that without everything falling apart.

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

Matthias and Naomi die. Hands down.

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

No spoilers!!

17. Do you know how it ends?

The first book, yes. The story itself? I have a vague idea, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?

Family dynamics and overcoming impossibilities? That feels so generic but those are just off the top of my head.

19. What is a reoccurring symbol?

Hm, I don’t think there is a reoccurring symbol?? Maybe the Entity (the god-like deity who’s more of an accepted theory than a religious figure) since her name comes up pretty often and she ends up being important to the story.

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description)

At the beginning, Georgia. But the majority of the story takes place on the Isles of Ayleth, a hidden continent with two main islands and hundreds of little ones surrounding them. The castle Eli’s taken to is on one of those islands.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Well I have the first draft done, so right now I’m working on making those images and scenes better:)

22. What excited you about this story?

I love the characters!! They make me really happy and I love learning new things about them as I keep going. I also get really excited when I figure something else that happens in the story and can integrate it into what I already have to make it better.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

I wing it. I’m a huge pantser (as I went on, I started having more ideas as to where I was going with the story, but I still didn’t have an actual outline or anything). For me, I sit down, usually late at night) and try to write at least 2,000 words. Sometimes that just isn’t plausible, depending on the day or how I’m feeling, but that’s my usual goal:)

Tagging (if you want to!!) @molly-is-writing @whywritewhenyoucansleep, @thewoefulandwonderous and whoever else wants to do it!!

#tag game #wip tags #lark and eli #these were such fun questions!!

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coutelier · 7 years

Text

Another sxcerpt from my current WIP. This one continues straight on from the last excerpt I posted. I was going to put a break there and cut away to something, but it would have been to some villains talking and we’ve already got three POV characters and had a few asides at this point so I didn’t want to have another one so soon:

The signs took them to a laboratory which at first didn’t seem much more impressive than science labs at school. There were some lockers, computers, sinks, those little racks filled with tubes, and a refrigerator filled with labeled jars that probably you shouldn’t pinch no matter no hungry you were. There were a few other pieces of apparatus but one thing stood out - a console in the middle of the room with a cylinder extending from its top up to the ceiling. Jennifer went straight over to it, taking a moment to scrutinize the controls and read some data off a small monitor.

“What is it?” Kaya asked. Jen’s answer was to turn some switches. The surface of the cylinder peeled away, dropping into the console to reveal a glass water-filled tank. Inside the tank was what at first looked like a tall purple leaf, but looking closer revealed that it was actually of many fronds branching from a central stalk held closely together. “Okay,” said Kaya, “so, what is it?”

“It’s not a plant,” Jennifer told her, “There’s no photosynthesis happening in there. It’s like a Charnia - a fractal life-form from the Pre-Cambrian era.”

“Well it doesn’t look that old,” Kaya pointed out, “so is it like a clone or something?”

“Very, very unlikely. No, I think this is more like a living reproduction created here. The label calls it ‘Syn’.”

“Great name. But this thing doesn’t look all that dangerous. I don’t see what it’s got to do with invisible bark skinned creatures.”

“This might have just been the start,” Jennifer nodded toward a set of doors opposite those they had entered this room from. “We should look deeper.” They headed in that direction, Jen with her wires and tablet ready but then she paused, perplexed.

“What’s wrong now?” Kaya asked.

“I-it’s locked,” Jennifer stammered. “I mean, locked-locked. There’s no panel.”

A glance confirmed that the door was, most simply, locked. Kaya almost laughed, but the truth was she would be ashamed too if this adventure came to naught. There could well be answers in there, and all that was in her way was a few inches of metal. “You spent years studying the security and doing all that fancy computer stuff, but you never thought you might just need a key?”

“I might be able to pick it,” Jen insisted, reaching into her coat for what looked like just some pins and needles. “It’ll just take a while.”

But Kaya already saw it was futile. “You’ll never pick it open with those,” she said. “If I had my tools…” that was on her, of course. She’d left them in the wreck of her car. But there had to be something in this laboratory…

Jen peered at her old friend suspiciously again. “You’re a locksmith?” She asked incredulously.

Kaya crossed her arms and muttered, “sure. Something like that.” It seemed paradoxical to her that Jennifer, who clearly had a low opinion of her anyway, refused to just acknowledge the truth. Maybe she just wanted Kaya to say it - admit out loud what she had become. Although it was an odd circumstance in which to claim any moral high ground… there were footsteps and Kaya glimpsed a shadow moving outside. “Someone’s coming,” she whispered. There was only one option where they could hide and that was the lockers, so she quickly took Jen’s hand and dragged her over. There was a coat or two hanging inside but luckily enough room for them both to fit. Jen seemed surprised and confused, enough that she didn’t resist being stuffed inside before Kaya squeezed in beside her.

Mere seconds later the footsteps were definitely inside the lab. Then they stopped. Kaya wondered why, then… the tank! They’d left it open - a silly oversight. Sure enough they soon heard a low murmur that suggested the cylinder was going back up again. Kaya could only hope that whoever was there would assume they or some other egghead had simply forgotten to raise it earlier. There was another problem - in her haste Kaya had shoved Jennifer’s face against some fur coat and now heard her whisper, “I think I’m going to sneeze…”

“Shhh!” Kaya urged as quietly as she could. “Pinch your nose!”

But it was too late. The locker opened and Kaya found herself blinking at a tall, dark skinned woman with her hair in a bun who did not look too happy. “What are you doing in there?” The woman asked.

The only explanation Kaya could think of was, “we’re agoraphobic?”

“Get out,” the woman was obviously unsympathetic to the condition. “I’m calling security.”

That meant she hadn’t yet… and she might have a key to those doors. The woman was taller and seemed quite fit, but if Kaya got the jump on her…

“Doctor Sarkis!” Jennifer gasped with surprise matched by the woman’s own.

“Jennifer?” The doctor asked. “How… why are you here?”

“That’s,” Jen avoided eye contact but this time out of genuine guilt and fear.

“That’s complicated…”

“Well you had best start explaining,” Doctor Sarkis obliquely eyed Kaya. “Who is this?”

“Cade,” Kaya put on a friendly smile. “Kaya Cade.”

“Sounds familiar,” Doctor Sarkis thought. “Isn’t she the one who used to bully you?”

Jennifer shifted her feet furtively. “N-not the only one,” she admitted. “And it was years ago. We’re adults now.”

“Did she put you up to this?”

“No… coming here was actually my idea.”

“It’s true,” Kaya nodded, “I was ready to turn myself in to the dibbles… the police, but Jen said we’d find answers here.”

Doctor Sarkis screwed her face in confusion. “Police? What for?”

“There was a creature,” Jennifer said. “Or maybe several creatures.”

“I called it a faerie,” Kaya piped in, “but we don’t really know what it was. It was invisible.”

“An invisible creature?” It was plain the doctor was already considering what kind of medication they would need.

“Only at first,” Kaya tried to clarify. “Then it rained and it de-cloaked and was strong as hell and had some kind of bark-like skin.”

“Maybe armor,” Jen suggested. “I was able to analyze a sample of its blood and I believe it was synthetic.”

“So,” Doctor Sarkis repeated it all in head, “you think we created an invisible faerie here at the lab that somehow escaped?”

“Well,” Kaya shrugged sheepishly, “it kind of sounds a bit mad when you say it like that.”

“It’s impossible,” Sarkis said, turning from them. “You’ve already seen Syn, I presume. We’ve had some success reproducing simple organisms but a creature like you’re describing is far beyond what anyone has done.”

“That’s not the same as impossible,” Jennifer gently pointed out.

“No,” Doctor Sarkis conceded, “but this is the most advanced genetic engineering facility in the world and it’s taken us decades to get this far. For anyone to have created an organism capable of acting freely would not only be unethical but they’d have skipped thousands of steps testing and understanding what they were doing. No one would be so reckless.”

Jen answered bitterly, “Alvin Stag would be…”

“Even if that were true, he answers to Meridiem now and I doubt they’d allow him to do anything that could prove costly to them.”

Kaya was missing out on a whole lot here. She knew that Alvin Stag founded this company and that Jennifer never liked him - she perhaps suspected him of having something to do with what happened to her parents. But Kaya still had so many questions, so she decided to start with what was in front of her. “Excuse me,” she said, raising a hand. “What, exactly, is it that you’re doing here? What’s that thing in the jar?”

Doctor Sarkis looked between the two intruders. After a moments consideration she seemed to resign herself. “Synthetic biology,” she said, revealing ‘the jar’ once more. “The next step in genetic engineering. Syn wasn’t modified from an existing organism. We designed and wrote her entire genome on the computers here, then implanted that code into a synthetic cell and allowed it to grow. Simple, really, although the creation of artificial cells capable of self-replication, that can be complicated.”

“But why?” Kaya asked. “What’s it for?”

“Use your imagination,” Jennifer chided, “there’s no end to all the good you could do. Plants that can absorb and recycle greenhouse gases, crops that can grow in any environment, bacteria that can clean up waste. Medicine, biofuel, space travel, terraforming… if perfected, the only limits to this are your imagination.” “Most of our work is with single celled organisms,” Doctor Sarkis nodded, “with focus on bioremediation and medicine.”

“Okay,” Kaya nodded along as well. She actually got it, but it seemed to her they were avoiding something obvious. “So all of that is what good Jen would do. But, what about evil Jen?”

There was a long moment of silence before Jen answered. “You could create a virus…”

“That’s why we’ve kept all this from the public,” Doctor Sarkis tried to assure them. “Yes, in the wrong hands someone could make a devastating weapon, but nothing happens in this lab without the approval of myself and an ethical committee.”

“But this wasn’t always your lab.”

“Before me this was your father’s work. Syn was his creation. He believed he could create a better world, not just for you, but for every human.”

Jennifer never argued with her dad. If he believed in what he was doing then there was no doubt she would as well. But, “what about Stag?” She asked. “He’s an ass,” Doctor Sarkis admitted, “but he doesn’t interfere with us. All he cares about is our progress and patents. This was your father’s work… you should see it all. Come.”

The doctor left them to open the inner doors, leaving Kaya alone with Jennifer for a moment. She slid next to her friend whispering and grinning, “you know her, then?”

“Yes,” Jen nodded. “I’ve known Jana for years.”

“So, we didn’t actually need to break in here at all? You could have just asked her to let us in?”

“Well,” Jennifer puffed indignantly, “I-I didn’t know she would be working now. Besides, I didn’t want to get her into trouble.”

Kaya made a motion as if to strangle her, but Jennifer squeaked and quickly escaped to follow the doctor. Kaya had no choice but to swallow her frustration and follow as well.

#writing #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr #extracts #excerpts

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moonblooch · 5 years

Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Other

Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)

Relationship: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast

Characters: Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Jester (Critical Role), Fjord (Critical Role), Nott (Critical Role), Beauregard (Critical Role), Yasha (Critical Role), Caduceus Clay, Cree (Critical Role), Marion Lavorre | Ruby of the Sea

Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Mentions of Character Death, alternating pov, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, caleb's backstory, Descriptions of Anxiety, fluff in later chapters, Tags and Ratings may change, WIP, Sharing a Bed

Language:English

Molly escapes a second grave, but he can only outrun his past for so long. In an attempt to throw Cree off the scent again, he spins a story about leaving his old life behind and has to fake an engagement to provide proof.

Molly awoke the following morning to an empty bed and for a moment his heart sank. If Caleb had abandoned him now, or even if he had just passed out in a gutter somewhere, the con was up.

Deciding that at the very least he needed to find out which of these had happened, he swung his legs out of bed and nearly kicked Caleb in the face. He looked almost peaceful in the morning light which was just now beginning to crawl through the window. Molly let out a slow breath and gingerly stepped around him wincing when his bare foot touched a wet patch on the rug. Closer inspection revealed Caleb to be completely soaked, an unfortunate fact that thankfully eliminated the alternative sources of moisture which would have been significantly less pleasant to step in.

Wiping his feet on a dry bit of rug, Molly cast around for his boots. His eyes landed instead on a figure slumped over the tiny desk at one end of the room. Though to the undiscerning eye it may have appeared to be a sodden mass of feathers, to Molly this was unmistakably a friend.

Picking up the poker from beside the hearth, and standing well back, Molly tapped Yasha on the shoulder.

“Argh!”

She was on her feet in an instant, sword wheeling around her in a series of swift arcs. She came to a stop, breathing heavily.

“Well good morning to you too darling.” Molly said, setting the poker down again. “I hope you slept well; that desk doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Yasha’s face softened and the sword clattered to the floor.

“Molly?”

He spread his arms.

“In the flesh darling.”

Yasha surged forward and swept him into a crushing hug, pinning his arms to his sides. She shook as they stood, tears forming a damp patch on Molly’s shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s good to see you too dear.” He pried an arm loose to pat her on the back. “You’ve gotten faster since I last saw you.”

Yasha made a sound somewhere between a sob and a giggle, then pulled back to actually look at him.

“You’re alive.”

“So are you.” Molly inclined his head to her. “I’ll admit, I was worried when you weren’t with the others earlier. They told me that you got out but it’s good to see that for myself.”

“It’s good to see you also, I,” she stopped, considering her next words, “the last I saw of you was your grave. When Jester told me that you were back I did not believe her.”

“You spoke to her?”

“Yesterday, I heard her voice in my head.”

Molly felt his face pulling into a grin. “Was her message as long winded as usual?”

“Longer.”

“Ha! Wonderful.”

“She mentioned some other things as well.” Yasha said, brow furrowed.

Molly felt a crawling feeling scurry up his spine. He had not been looking forward to this discussion, particularly since the plan managed to sound more stupid each time he actually said anything about it.

“I asked Caleb about it when I found him last night but he was not talking much.”

“I don’t imagine he would have been dear.” Molly replied. “Yesterday was rather tiring.”

Yasha nodded slowly.

“Okay. He said that I could stay in here tonight. If that’s weird I can go and we could talk downstairs.”

“Why would it be weird?”

“Well,” Yasha said looking supremely uncomfortable, “Jester said that you and Caleb were engaged.”

Molly coughed.

“Right, that. How much did Jester say about that exactly?”

“If I’m remembering it was something like,” she pitched her voice in an imitation of Jester, “’hello Yasha, I hope you’re doing okay. So you should know that Molly’s back and also him and Caleb are like kind of engaged but’ and then the message ended.”

“That sounds about right.” Molly said with a sigh. He was trying to articulate the plan in his mind in order to explain it to Yasha and once again only coming up with thoughts of how foolish the whole affair was. Maybe Caleb could help him explain.

“When did you bring him in?”

Yasha’s brow creased slightly as she appeared to be thinking for a moment.

“Two, maybe three hours ago? I lost track after I fell asleep.”

Molly wasn’t going to wake him up to help explain; he couldn’t remember Caleb ever being a morning person so he wouldn’t be much help yet.

“Very well my darling.” Molly said, pulling back slightly. “You’re probably going to want to sit back down for this.”

“That’s a lot.”

Molly nodded. Yasha had been, for the most part, silent throughout his tale; how he had stumbled away from the grave on the Glory Run Road until he had collapsed. How he had woken once again, mind foggy but just coherent enough to find the note and read it. This had been Yasha’s only interruption, a brief congratulations that he could now read. He had continued to explain the slow process of remembering, stumbling his way back to Zadash, and the series of monumental fuck ups that had led to his current circumstances.

“It certainly is.” He replied.

“And you didn’t just tell her the truth?”

“Because she has our blood and I don’t know how she’d react, but I’m working on that.” Molly lowered his voice, “yesterday I destroyed one of the phials she had. She doesn’t have Beau’s blood anymore. If I can get the rest of them then it will be safe to tell her, well, safer.”

Yasha shook her head.

“It’s too dangerous Molly. We don’t know the extent of her power.”

“But I’ve got a fairly solid idea –”

Molly was interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. He looked Yasha in the eye, raised his eyebrows and brought a finger to his lips. She nodded and placed one hand on the hilt of her sword. As quietly as she could manage, she positioned herself behind the door. Molly let their visitor wait for another moment before walking to the door.

“Molly! Caleb! I know you’re in here so open the door.” Jester’s voice pierced through the wood and Molly felt himself practically deflate as he reached for the latch.

“Seriously you guys if you don’t let me in I’ll use Thaumatergy, oh. Hi Molly!” Jester greeted him before bounding into the room.

“Why is Caleb on the floor?”

“Because I was studying spells last night and did not make it to bed.” Caleb replied, propping himself up on his elbows. Molly felt his tail stiffen at the thought that perhaps Caleb had been awake the whole time. He hadn’t exactly told Yasha anything he wasn’t comfortable sharing, but he would have preferred to tell the others at a different pace.

“Jester you seem to have missed one.” Caleb nodded his head towards Yasha.

“Who – Yasha!” Jester cried, flinging herself at the taller woman. Yasha returned the hug with a fond smile.

“It is good to see you Jester. Molly has been telling me some crazy things.”

“Oh my goodness, yes. You know how him and Caleb are, like, engaged now right?”

“To stop Cree from getting mad and using our blood against us, yes.”

“Yeah, yeah, totally.” Jester said waving a hand. She turned to Molly, shooting a quick glance between him and Caleb.

“So like, you guys were taking really long to so I had to make Cree think that you were having, like, the most crazy reunion sex ever.”

“You could have told her just about anything else, dear.” Molly found himself responding. There was no malice in it, at least he hoped there wasn’t, but their scheme had just got that little bit more complicated.

Jester ploughed on.

“So basically you need to look like that is what happened when you come down. I have my makeup with me if you think that would help.”

“Thank you liebling,” Caleb replied, “but it might be for the best if we can come up with something else. Something which will not come off if it rains again.”

“Speaking of rain, would you like to take Yasha down with you?” Molly asked.

Yasha walked to the window, opened it and swung a leg out.

“It’s probably best that it doesn’t look like I could have been with you.”

“Oh, I do not know about that,” Caleb said in a tired voice, finally pushing himself up from the floor, “a threesome sounds like pretty crazy reunion sex to me.”

Molly choked back a laugh. Best not to make too much noise, the last thing they needed was nosy neighbours.

Yasha actually grinned at Caleb’s remark, and gave them a slow, deliberate wink. Then she swung her other leg out of the window and disappeared from sight.

“You had better go downstairs Jester; if you are gone too long it may seem as if you were peeping.” Caleb suggested.

Jester nodded and bounded to the door.

“See you guys down there. Take as long as you need.”

She waved her fingers before disappearing from the doorway with a giggle. Molly found himself shaking his head with a smile. Weaver, he’d missed Jester.

“Any ideas?” he asked, turning to Caleb. “I’m sure that she’s going to give us some lofty expectations to live up to.”

“I could cast an illusion.” Caleb replied after a while. “It would not be ideal, but anything else; well, I would not want you to be uncomfortable.”

“That depends what it was you were going to suggest, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Let’s hear it.”

Caleb shook his head. “It was a stupid idea. Forget it.”

Molly folded his arms. It had been too long since he had participated in any ridiculousness.

“Mister Caleb, may I remind you of my last interaction with scrambled eggs? I’m certain there are stupider ideas out there.”

Caleb gave him a weak smile.

“Very well. I was going to suggest that you bite me.”

Molly very abruptly found himself possessed of a non-functioning brain. Oh sure, he had established that Caleb was off limits some time ago (something the conversation of the previous night had only affirmed), but the column of Caleb’s throat, currently bared for the world to see, was making a very convincing counter argument.

“If it is too much then I understand, but it would seem very possessive on your part, and would go with what Jester is no doubt telling the others as we speak.” Caleb stumbled on, oblivious to Molly’s momentary moral crisis. “That and it would show up well on my skin; it would be difficult for Cree to argue with something like that.”

“No, I agree.” Molly replied. This wasn’t going to get weird; he wasn’t going to let it. There was nothing strange about a bit of platonic biting among friends.

Molly prided himself on being a person with no shame.

That being said, the closest he would ever come to embarrassment was hearing Jester’s impression of what he and Caleb might have sounded like in bed.

He doubted the patrons of the Lavish Chateau were strangers to noises of pleasure; a fact which only made it more remarkable that Jester had managed to draw just about every eye in the room with her wailing. That and the fact that she currently looked like a member of the lizardfolk, which were rather uncommon on this side of the continent.

Caleb looked as if he would very much not like to enter the bar. Quite possibly because his scarf, which could have covered the blooming bruises on his neck, had remained in their room, making it quite obvious that it was them Jester was currently parodying.

“She needs to work on her accent.” Caleb murmured as a particularly impressive shriek flew through the air. “I do not sound like that.”

Molly bit his tongue in an attempt not to laugh. Caleb was fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot as if he was about to break into a sprint.

“We could leave, if you want.” He offered. “Disappear for a bit, let Cree think we’ve run off for a honeymoon somewhere. It’d give us a break from pretending.”

“Nein.” Caleb shook his head. “I would not want to leave the rest in this mess alone.”

Molly felt as though a particularly strong wind had just battered him from all sides. Prior to his death, he had heard Caleb muttering to himself, or perhaps to Frumpkin, of plans to leave. Even after Yasha, Jester and Fjord had gone, Caleb had been glancing at the road behind them with a certain amount of longing. The change wasn’t something Molly could say he was upset about; quite the opposite in fact, but he had to wonder what had caused it.

“Very well.” He offered Caleb his arm. “Shall we?”

The second they stepped through the door it was as if a mask had dropped over Caleb’s face. He stood tall, with a purpose that practically demanded those around him to comment, but only if they held no particular regard for the continued partnership of their limbs and their torso. Molly did his best to mirror this, clicking the heels of his boots against the floorboards just so. Few eyes left them until they had reached the table the others were gathered around.

“I hope we haven’t missed the whole show Jester.” Molly said, pulling up a chair. “From what I heard you hadn’t even got to the good part yet.”

Jester cackled and he took the opportunity to shoot Beau, who looked positively anaemic in that moment, a wink. She stood up and quietly excused herself and Molly’s tail coiled in delight. He leaned over to Caleb, keeping his eyes lidded as he whispered in his ear.

“Tell Beauregard she’s lost the game, won’t you dear?”

Caleb’s face flushed, as if Molly had just suggested something obscene, but he gave a small nod, drew a length of copper wire from his sleeve and wrapped it between his thumb and little finger.

“Mitteilung.” He whispered.

Taking that as a cue, Molly turned to Cree, who looked about as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Cree dear, how are you doing this fine morning?” he asked, trying his damndest to sound like someone who had gotten seven different kinds of laid the night prior. From the look on her face, it was working.

“Well, thank you Lucien.” She replied, toying with the buckle on the strap of her bag and very pointedly not looking him in the eye. “I hope you can excuse me but I will have to leave soon; I have business on behalf of our blue friend, er,” her eyes flicked to Jester, who currently had an improbably long tongue lolling from her mouth, “our other blue friend.”

“Yes, I seem to recall.” Molly replied. He was talking out of his arse of course; he remembered no such thing. “Well if you require any help from us do shout, I’m sure we’ll be in town for a little while yet. Until the wedding at least. That reminds me, Jester; when did you say the room would be available?”

“About three weeks I think.” She replied, tongue still trailing. “I can try and push it up if you guys want though.”

“Three weeks is perfect dear.” He turned back to Caleb. “What do you think love? We could turn it into a sort of pre-emptive honeymoon?”

“That sounds perfect mein licht.” Caleb gave him a soft smile before leaning into him and whispering; “Beau says that you can go fuck yourself, and that the victory does not count if Jester won it for you.”

“Darling, not in public!” he gasped, doing his best to sound utterly scandalised. “Not in present company at least.”

“It is nothing they have not heard before liebling.” Caleb replied with a smirk which should have been made illegal in the name of public decency, loosening his shirt collar with no apparent care for the fact that this unveiled the teeth-marks.

Molly looked away in an attempt to forget how Caleb’s pulse had fluttered under his tongue, taking the opportunity to sweep a quick glance around those gathered at their table. Cree looked as if she was about to bolt, which was good; the more uncomfortable she was the more she would avert her eyes and the more he could get away with. Caduceus was difficult to read but seemed to be taking the situation in stride, Fjord was sitting as if he’d had a sword shoved somewhere unmentionable. Jester was a lizard, but he got the strong impression that if her current form had had eyebrows they would have been waggling furiously.

One of Nott’s eyes was twitching. Molly decided to ask Caleb to explain before he had to spend any time alone with her.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Yasha, the angel that she was, loomed over their table before anyone decided to comment.

“Yasha, darling!” Molly stood, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so happy to see you’re alright.”

“Yes.” Yasha replied, clearly remembering that this was supposed to be her first time seeing him alive in months, bless her. “I’m glad to see that you made it back to us. I was hoping you’d do it again, but I couldn’t stand if you stayed there.”

Molly scrambled for words for a moment, but Caleb saved him any awkward spluttering by directing a question at Yasha himself.

“₰ʤƪζ ʤƪϣƍɮƍƏ ζⱴ Ƿⱴƻΰ ؿƍʢ? Ƿⱴƻ ƪΰƍ ₰ƪ ؿδ ٩ɮʢ ϗζΰƪɮʢƍ ؿǷ.”

“٩ ĕƪƻʢʤζ ϐǷϗƍ ؿǥ ⱴɮ ζʤƍ ₰٩ɮƏⱴ₰ϗ٩ ؿ ƪɮƏ ǥƍ ؿ.” Yasha replied, looking sheepish.

Caleb let out a bark of laughter, before continuing.

“₰ƍ ₰٩ﺉ ʢƍζ ζʤƪζ ﺉⱴⱴδƍƏ ƪζ ζʤƍɮ. ĕⱴƻﺉƏ Ƿⱴƻ ﺉⱴⱴϐ ⱴƻƍΰ ζʤƍ ĕƪζ ϣƍrϗⱴɮ ƪ ؏٩ζ ϣ ﺉƍƪϗƍ? ٩ ₰ⱴƻﺉƏ ﺉ٩δƍ ƪ ؏ΰƍƪδ ǥrΰⱴϐ ϣΰƍζƍɮƏ٩ɮʢ ζⱴ ؏ƍﺉⱴƻƍϗ٩ĕδ, ƪɮƏ ٩ ζʤ٩ɮδ ϗʤƍ ₰٩ﺉ ʢⱴ ٩ǥ Ƿⱴƻ ʢﺉⱴwƍΰ.”

“My angel, you know how hot and bothered you speaking Celestial gets me, but would you mind sticking to languages the rest of us can understand?” Molly interrupted their exchange. In reality hearing spoken Celestial made his eardrums itch uncontrollably, which was a shame since he had been told that it was a beautiful language. Yasha had informed him once that Infernal spoken casually (since Infernal insults tended to manifest more painfully) had a similar effect for her.

“Another thing to keep private then? Death has made you modest mien herz.” Caleb asked with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. “I think I might like that, you know. That there are aspects of you which only I get to see.”

Molly felt something like electricity skitter from the tip of his tail to the base of his skull. He took a brief moment to thank the Moonweaver that Caleb was only acting, and that he had not used this kind of flirting for nefarious purposes yet.

Cree coughed.

“Yes, well I, I ought to be going. There’s a contact in the city that our mutual friend has been trying to get on our side for years. I’ve managed to book an appointment and I’d best not be late.” She excused herself, standing.

“Why don’t you take my seat?” she asked Yasha, leaving her chair pulled out. “Lucien, will you join me for dinner later? There are a few things I’d like to discuss.”

“Of course I will dear.” Molly responded, kicking himself for not being able to come up with an excuse faster. “I’d be very interested to hear about this friend of our mutual friend.”

Cree gave him a sharp nod, then turned to leave. She walked out of the bar with about the same speed that Beau had left the table with earlier. Molly tried to catch a look at her tail, to see if it could offer any insight into her thoughts. It appeared to be lashing back and forth, which didn’t tell him as much as he had hoped it would. She could have just been anxious about ensuring this new contact for the gentleman, and it wasn’t as if he could rely on tabaxis and tieflings to have the same tail language.

He sat back down as Yasha did, and as Caleb was leaning over to whisper something to Caduceus. A smile played on Caduceus’ lips as he replied in a murmur which made his already rumbling voice sound even more impressive. He waited for a break in their conversation before leaning in to the group once again.

“So, any suggestions going forward?” he asked the others. “Were we laying it on a bit thick, or should we turn it up a notch.”

“You were revolting.” Beau cut in, returning to the table with all the grace of an owlbear ballet, “but if you’re talking about the stuff with Caleb then more of the same should work.”

“I did not see much, but you did seem fairly ‘lovesick’ as Caleb put it.” Yasha said, accepting a plate of food which Fjord had shoved in her direction. “Maybe a bit more physical contact?”

Caleb brought up an arm to rest loosely across Molly’s shoulders. “Not a bad plan Yasha, something like this?”

“That might work, yes.”

“Not that you’ll need it whilst she’s gone.” Fjord suggested. “It can’t be comfortable keeping that up.”

“It is not, but we cannot eliminate the chance that there are others watching us. We cannot have Cree asking around and hearing that Mollymauk and I bolt apart the second she has gone. Obviously we do not have to be glued to each other, but when we are in the same room it would be better to keep up appearances.”

Damn. Caleb made a good point, but Molly could tell that this was going to get exhausting. And they had to do this for three weeks! He was going to go insane before a week and a half if they had to keep this up at all hours.

“Do we at least have something to do whilst we’re here?” he asked, hoping for an excuse to spend some time apart.

“Well there’s always wedding planning,” Jester began, only to be interrupted by a chorus of emphatic ‘no’s. “I’m serious you guys, if I get this right then the Traveller will give me some really cool new powers.”

“We can manage that as well Jester, but I don’t think that’ll take three weeks.” Fjord replied.

“We had an idea.” Nott spoke up, drawing every eye to her in the process. She had yet to activate any kind of magical disguise, leaving her with just the usual mask and the people around her to conceal her goblinoid appearance from strangers.

“Me and Caleb were talking the night before last, while the rest of you were finding clothes, and we thought, well,” she shifted in place, suddenly uncomfortable in the attention of the others, “we thought that we should get Jester un-banished.”

#mollymauk tealeaf/caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #hey look ma i updated something #critical role #critrole #critical role campaign two #fanfic

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