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#taken mini master
roguestorm · 2 years
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hello. batman’s backstory makes no fucking sense. thank you.
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the-daydreaming-show · 2 months
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❝never a tear, baby of mine❞ — Jason Todd
dick's version
Jason was a quiet kid. So quiet and calm that he didn't was totally a child, more was like a mini adult.
NOTE:
This is like REALLY late, because I had problems with my internet and the power on me going out, so I apologize for that.
As always, thanks to our beta reader: @igotmessymind.
And wiht no further ado, I hope you find wait worth it, I apologize again and that you for reading!!
XOXO ELLA.
This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that I have create. I hope you enjoy!!!
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
WARNINGS: Mentions of child neglect; Jason (not his actual) mom death.
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Contrary to popular belief, Dick was always the son who kept you and Bruce on the edge of your seats. 
People were always surprised when you told them this. Probably, because with those blue eyes and adorable dimples, your eldest son knew how to fool people so easily. But the boy had grown up in the circus and had more energy than a thunderbolt. You couldn't count the times you found him hanging from the ceiling lamps, practicing his pirouettes. He was the reason there was a strict rule at Wayne Manor about not taking your feet off the ground without adult supervision.
Jason, your baby, he was easy. People were shocked at this statement as well.
People expected him to be a little savage whenever you guys made a public appearance, whether it was at a gala or going to the market.
Yes. You had to keep him from talking to the press, because he had a habit of being verbally deadly, but other than that he was always the calmest of kids. But other than that, he never left his calm character at all times when being in public and in private as well. 
This unfounded popular belief probably had something to do with the boy being taken off the streets by you and your husband. Literally.
Your husband kidnapped a child from an alley in Gotham on a given winter night.
Mmmh, maybe Bruce was your most chaotic boy and not Dick like you thought.
You weren't in the batcave that night, so Alfred was the one supervising the computer. But when it got particularly late, just before the sun began to rise, you woke up to find that your husband still wasn't sleeping clinging to your waist like he usually did. So you decided to go downstairs to see what was going on.
You meet Alfred, waiting with a tray with three cups of freshly brewed tea.
“Are we expecting someone, Alfred?”  you asked as you approached the man preparing everything with elegance.
“That's right, Miss” the man said, looking up with amused eyes “Master Bruce has found company on tonight's patrol” he gave you the look of a father disappointed but not surprised by his son's actions. But before you could say more or ask questions, the sound of the Batmobile in the distance made you approach the platform where the car typically parked.
Bruce jumped out of the car, in his Batman suit, without any injuries that you could see, then leaned over to help a small body out of the vehicle. He was a boy, skinny to the bone, in your eyes, dressed inappropriately for the weather, and looking around with startled eyes. You looked at your husband in confusion, Bruce could practically see the question mark on your forehead. So he walked over to you, while the boy was too gawking at the cave to notice that you guys were talking to the side.
“¿Did you kidnap a child again?” you asked in a worried whisper.
“No” Bruce defended himself, pulling off the hood of his suit so that you could see all of his beautiful face in front of you. “His name is Jason” he explained to you while they both looked at the boy for a moment. Jason had stepped away from the Batmobile to look down at the edge of the platform at the void below you, his cheeks against the metal of the railings. (You were mentally grateful to have convinced Bruce to put those railings all over the cave, after that Dick started spending more time there years ago). “And I found him trying to steal the tires from the Batmobile. He was alone, and he told me that he intended to sell it to buy food” he told you, and you instinctively looked at said car.
That beastly car had almost been desecrated by the little hands of a hungry child, who didn't seem at all affected by the idea of almost robbing THE Batman. You found the situation amusing.
“Really?”, you asked your husband, smiling amused. 
All while Jason was looking fascinated at the ceiling of the cave and wondering: ¿Where did the lights hang from?. He couldn't see the roof of the place.
“Yeah. And he almost got away with it.” Bruce seemed almost proud of the boy's actions, and you couldn't feel the same way. Press your lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud. 
“¿And how does all that explain your kidnapping him?” you asked teasingly, to which Bruce rolled his eyes in exoneration and giggled impishly at it.
“You are Bruce Wayne's wife” the boy's voice made them both look at him, but the boy was not intimidated and kept talking. “Which makes sense, because if Bruce Wayne is Batman, obviously his wife will know.” he said, more like a thought out loud than a conversation with you. “My mom used to say that she would die from one of the shoes you put up and that they showed on TV, but in the end she died from the drugs, not your shoes” he explained naturally. To which you threw your head back a bit in surprise at such a natural statement about something that must have been very sad. Looking at your husband and his eyes told you it was the first time he heard about this. “I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wayne.” the boy apologized quickly, suddenly very aware that he was talking to two of the richest people in Gotham (and the world as well) “B told me I could spend the night here. But don't worry tomorrow, in the morning I'll leave without causing any problems” he quickly explained to you.
You looked at your husband again, and he left a memory in his mind for you to see as an explanation. He showed you how he had found the boy, how Bruce had talked him into agreeing to let him buy something to eat and then offered him a place to sleep, because the boy admitted that he was all alone. With a dead mother and a father who was in prison, the boy lived on the streets of Gotham, surviving as best he could. Jason hadn't trusted him at first, which was understandable. Who knew what he had seen living on the streets of a city like Gotham. So Bruce did the only thing he could think of to gain the boy's trust, so he could get him to safety, as he took off his mask. And Jason, faced with such a show of honesty, agreed to get on the Batmobile to return with Bruce to the cave. (Or, Bruce put the boy in the car before he could get over the shock of the news. It depends on how you look at it.)
“Oh honey. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all, we have plenty of space available” you assured him with a sweet smile to which the boy smiled back. It was true, since Dick had moved in with the Titans, there was too much empty space for your liking. “Come, sit down and have some tea, it will help with the cold” you said, pointing up the stairs to the main platform of the cave.
“Cool!” the boy exclaimed as they started walking. Bruce instinctively reached for your hand, not wanting you to stray too far from him, just because.
Then Jason ate a dozen of Alfred's cookies, drank all his tea, and at the end, Bruce let him touch the batcomputer, watching the boy's fascination with all the buttons. (Of course, the latter was under your and Bruce's watch. You didn't want the boy to activate some self-destruct protocol or something). He played with the satellite map for a while, showing you the places he had been and the school he used to go to before his mother died. Then he started to yawn, and you were sure the sun should have risen outside by that point.
“Well, it's time to go up” you said when you saw him yawn widely for the third time. “Come on” you stood up from your seat next to him to offer him your hand. The boy frowned at you, severely confused.
“¿Up where?” he asked, looking at your hand suspiciously, but rising to take it and follow you nonetheless. You had that effect on him. You were so pretty, and warm, and kind that he thought to himself, there was no way you were real, surely all of this must be a cruel hallucination of some kind.
“Up home, Jay” you told her as you turned to be greeted by a Bruce who had already come out of his suit and was waiting for them both on the stairs to the elevator. “We're below Wayne Manor” you explained, thinking that he was confused as to what was above your heads and why they would go there.
“Will you let me sleep in your mansion?!” the surprised boy asked. There was definitely something wrong there, there was no way two of the richest people in the city would let him sleep in his house, in one of his beds, with expensive mattresses and even more expensive sheets. Impossible.
“Of course” you said with a sweet smile, “We have many empty rooms and now one of them is yours”
“Your room is ready, young Jason.” Alfred told him, joining the walk to the elevator. “Though maybe an extra cookie or two was left in the room by accident. I hope that's not a problem for you” he said, smiling complacently, at which the boy laughed mischievously. You gave him a look that Alfred pretended not to catch, and they all went on their way while.
“I didn't think you would let me sleep at your house.” the boy admitted shyly, looking at his shoes, once again thinking aloud.
It took you a second to realize that Jason had thought she'd leave him sleeping in the cave, like a stray dog, and it broke your heart. You promised yourself to do everything you could to make that little boy feel like he deserved nothing less than the best in the world.
Jason didn't leave the mansion after that day. 
Social Services didn't put up much resistance to the adoption, for two reasons. Firstly, you and Bruce already had a pretty good record of adopting and raising Dick. And second, stirring up the issue too much would show how they hadn't looked for Jason after he had run away from his last home. From what you've seen, his file only contains basic information leading up to the fact that he was supposed to be in foster care with 10-15 other kids, but clearly they've been on the streets for quite some time. And Jason seemed to have adjusted quickly when the caseworker came to visit for the first few weeks, at least to her standards. But in your eyes, the child was far from having adapted to the idea of being part of the family.
Jason gets up early, before everyone else in the house.
You had learned from the experience with Dick that establishing a strict bedtime schedule was important in the long run. So you knew he was sleeping because you watched him before you went to sleep yourself. So the boy sleeps well and you could confirm it. He had admitted to you that it had been difficult in the early days to sleep at night because he could never really be asleep while living on the streets. Something about the heavy blankets over him made him fall asleep peacefully. His lights went out before he could even finish laying his head on the pillow. Of course, this one you had invested a lot of money in more blankets for the child, which was the only thing that Jason had allowed to be bought for his room.
He assured you that the room was fine as is, and it did not need to be changed. What you'd called bullshit all along, because there was no way a kid would like a room that was the closest thing to a blank page. But you hadn't pushed him, waited until he was more comfortable in the new  environment. 
So the boy was sleeping in a guest room he didn't want to make entirely his own. He was up before anyone else in the house, even Alfred. He would get ready and go down to breakfast alone. He got what he needed by scaling the counter and cabinets if necessary, leaving Alfred to clean up the marks on his slippers. This until Jason overheard him, after which he started taking off his sneakers before climbing up to find the cereal. He ate breakfast in silence, looking out the kitchen window at the patio, then washed everything he had used by hand, even though there is a state-of-the-art dishwasher in the kitchen. He then left the kitchen and got lost in the mansion. 
Bruce found him in the mansion's library a couple of times. Jason said that he was trying to practice his reading, since he hadn't been to school since before her mom died because he had to take care of her when her dad was arrested. Your husband offered his help, but the boy refused. And since Jay realized that his hideout had been discovered, he began to roam the mansion, picking random rooms to hide in during the day when you and Bruce began to keep him company in the library. 
The child hides and avoids both of you. You at first thought that was a repeat of Dick's first few months, that Jason was mad at the world. Consequently, you would expect anger and yelling anytime you ran into Jason around the mansion. You mentally braced yourself for the thought of all that chaos again, how he would sneak out of school when he started once the holidays were over and the whole package was over. 
This time, you were ready and prepared to help him with that rage. You won't let it consume you like Dick did for a long time because you didn't know how to handle it. This time you will do well.
But Jason's eyes would light up when you or your husband greeted him in the mornings after meeting him at the house. He clung to the hands of one or both of you every time you went out into the street. He would hug your waist when you hid him from the paparazzi in the park. (You had a no-photos rule for your kids, only official photos approved by you and your husband, so you and the paparazzi didn't have the best relationship in the world.) He let you guys hug him and look at him without problem. He never initiates affection, but he clung to it when it was given to him, both from you and from Bruce, or Alfred even.
So you were confused, to say the least.
However, you had learned your lesson with Dick. There were situations in which you had to be active and aggressive to help your children. So you talked to Bruce and you both decided it was time to talk to Jason about this peculiar pattern.
Then Alfred told you that if they both faced him at the same time, it would be too intimidating for the boy, causing him to shut down more than help.
Blessings be Alfred. He has always been the smartest in the house (don't tell that to Bruce).
Like every night, Jason had already gotten ready and tucked themselves into bed. Also, he had offered to help Alfred with the cleaning like every day, but the butler had refused as he did a lot lately. So he decided to do the whole night routine without bothering you: he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, got into bed and read a book, like you usually offer to do. It cost him less than before, but still some words were complicated. 
You arrived shortly after he had finished reading his fourth story of the night and had accidentally gotten hooked on reading another one. You knocked on the door softly as you opened it.
“Oh, you're already in bed,” you commented, surprised that the boy had done everything himself. Usually, he lets you help with all of this without a problem, so you're disappointed that he won't let you help him.
“Yes, and I just read one story,” he said, quickly trying to hide that he had disobeyed the one-story rule. Jason didn't want you to be angry. He knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he feared your disappointment more than your fury.
“Really?”, you asked excitedly. You knew how hard he had worked to improve his reading these past few weeks to prepare for school. “That's amazing, honey,” you told him as you closed the door softly and walked to sit next to him. Jason smiled happily at your tone of pure joy and pride in his accomplishment.
“Yes,” Jason said as he closed the book and left it on the nightstand, excited to tell you about his progress, “I still have a hard time with some words. But I will fix it before school starts.” He made it clear to you right away, so don't worry.
The truth is that Jason didn't want to bother. Not you, not Alfred, not Bruce. In his mind, that was the way to be a good son. That was what his parents had taught him.
Willis Todd hated it when Jason was in the way. He always ran into him around the house (although that was probably beer-related), and that ended badly for Jason. So Jason learned quickly to stay out of the way so as not to be in the way, not in the sight of his parents, because that was good. His mother never said anything against that arrangement, so he always assumed she agreed.
When his dad left, disappearing without any notice (Jason eventually found out on the streets that he had been arrested and sent to prison), it became difficult for his mom not to see him since she had to do everything. But she was too high to notice half the time. And the other half, when she was aware of him, she wasn't aggressive towards him, she went from hugging him lovingly to crying on her shoulder. As if Catherine were the child and Jason was the father, she was comforting. Then she didn't get up after one dose, and the police came after he called an elderly woman who lived next door to her to ask her to call an ambulance. Then they put him in a couple of foster homes. But no one paid much attention to him, and it wasn't worth putting up with the other children, especially the older ones, who enjoyed tormenting him for being smaller. So he ended up on the street, taking care of himself. It was more natural for him to depend on himself alone than to let them take care of him.
“Well,” you said, settling next to him against the headboard, “but there's no need for that. That's why you're going to school — to learn,” you explained as you ran your hand through his curls. “It's okay if you don't know everything before that.”
“But I don't want to be behind the rest of my classmates, they surely already know how to read very well,” he explained regretfully, somewhat embarrassed.
Only once had his parents been called to the school he had gone to in Park Row. The teacher meant well, for sure. But telling her father that Jason seemed to need a little more help than usual with his reading and that it would be a good idea to move him to a school with a special program for kids like him only made her father see it. And that was never something good. He didn't want you to feel upset with him for that, either. 
“It doesn't matter what other children know or don't know, Jason,” you assured him lovingly. “It matters that you learn without fear of not knowing. It's not a bad thing to not know how to do something that's hard for you to do, sometimes,” you tried to explain, and the boy nodded slowly, processing the information you had given him.
Jason thought for a moment, absorbing what you said, but he was not sure how to respond in a way that would make you happy but not be a nuisance to your daily life. But you didn't let him get to a question because you asked him one in return.
“Jason, my dear,” you called, breaking the boy from his thoughts, who looked at you with big, blue eyes. So precious your baby was. “I have a very important question for you, and I need you to answer me honestly,” you asked him seriously, to which the boy adjusted himself with a worried frown to face you more.
It reminded you of Bruce, who made the same gestures when you talked to him seriously.
Your heart tightened with pride at how your two boys, Dick and Jason, were beginning to imitate Bruce so soon after meeting him. Despite all of his doubts, he was someone the kids immediately looked to as an example. You reminded him repeatedly, despite his complaints, because he needed to be reminded that being Batman wasn't the only way he could make a difference to people. He did it every day in his home, with your children, and with you.
“Yes, Mrs. Wayne - Sorry, y/n,” he corrected himself quickly, but you thought nothing of it despite the way he cringed in place at his own mistake.
“Jay, do you like being here with me, with Bruce, and with Alfred? Are you happy being part of this family?” you asked a little fearfully, sounding as soft as possible so that it didn't feel like an interrogation.
Jason was stunned. His blue eyes looked at you in confusion: Why would you ask such a question? Of course, he was happy, Jason had everything he could need to survive and the company of you and Bruce. Why would you think he wasn't happy with you?
You saw the confusion painted on his face the moment you asked, so you decided to elaborate a little more on the situation.
“You see, Bruce and I have noticed that you don't seem to be around the house much even though you're here. You even get up to have breakfast alone. It seems like you are hiding from us, Jay. Which is why Bruce and I are worried” you began to explain in a soft tone, “Did something happen? Is there something bothering you?
“No, there's nothing that bothers me,” Jason assured quickly, so worried about the situation. “I just don't want to be in the middle,” the boy explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which made your heart break, and you wondered why he would believe that.
Would there have been any comments from you or Bruce?
Or something you guys did that gave Jason that impression?
Whatever it was, it needed a solution because it couldn't be further from the truth. Personally, you had missed having a child in the house, and so had Bruce, despite his attempt to pretend that Dick's departure hadn't bothered him.
Your husband and eldest son had a very ugly fight before he went to live in the Teen Titans Tower. He had arranged for you and Alfred to serve as intermediates. But that didn't change your oldest son's decision to move out of the house. A lot of his stuff was still at Wayne Manor, but he wasn't, which made it a little depressing for you.
“Why do you think you're in the middle?” you asked sadly.
“Well, I know it bothers adults when kids are all over them needing things and asking questions. So I try not to be too intense with you because I am very grateful because now I am part of the family.” Jason shrugged as he looked at his hands, trying to remove his cuticles. A nervous habit that you had noticed.
Unsure of what to do, you played it safe and hugged Jason over the shoulder with one arm, holding him close to you, while with your other free hand, you stopped the suggestion of pinching your cuticles by taking his hand and caressing his plasma instead.
You thought for a moment about how you could handle the whole situation without the need to abruptly destroy the belief system and give it a crisis. You also didn't want all of this to sound like a reprimand for believing something that couldn't be further from the truth, because it wasn't his fault. But you weren't going to leave things like that.
“You know, Jay. Bruce and I are not like other adults," you started feeling a little like Mean Girls' mom and her 'I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom', which made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept going. “We love having you around. Dick got us used to that, you know, so we’d love for you to get in the middle as much as you like Jay,” you explained, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes, a gleam of hope in them.
“Really?” he asked doubtfully.
“Really serious,” you assured him with a smile, which Jason couldn’t help but quickly spread. “Besides, you can always know without a doubt that as long as you are in the middle of your father and mine, you will never have to worry about anything. Because you will be safe and sound,” you assured him gently, moving a hair from his forehead and then kissing the area lovingly.
“I like that,” Jason whispered, as if the thought had escaped him, looking at you with stars in his eyes. He really liked that idea.
Jason ran down the stairs while you calmly entered the house with bags of clothes in hand. Alfred was behind you with more bags and resigned to the fact that you had once again bought extra clothes for the whole family. Yes, you also bought him a couple of new sweaters, the kind he liked, but he insisted they were too expensive.
You didn't finish passing through the living room towards the stairs when Jason ran up and hugged your waist without thinking twice. Now, at thirteen years old, it would probably be time for you to start asking him to take care of the force with which he threw himself into his arms whenever he saw you. But the truth is that you didn't want him to. If you two fell, so be it, but you would never ask Jason to walk away. Not after what it was like the first time your son was in the house.
“Hello, sweet boy,” you said to Jason while hugging as best you could with the bags in your arms. “I got you another one of those hoodies that you said you liked. I got it in red, I thought that color would look good on you”.
Jason didn't stop hugging your waist as the three of you went upstairs to leave the bags so he could try on what you had bought him. Nor when, after trying everything on and being satisfied with his new clothes, you went back downstairs to have tea and eat cookies in the library. Not even when the two of them left there to greet Bruce when he arrived late from the Wayne Enterprise, and he received the same hug, but with more balance than you. Dick arrived, and Jason was still clinging to your waist until all sat down to eat dinner.
“Was I like that?” Dick asked in a mocking whisper to Alfred.
“Was?” mocked back the butler “Master Dick, you are still exactly like that”
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femoso-seben · 3 months
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Mini witch story part one
Part 1, Part 3,
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Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.
“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.
“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.
“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.
As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.
“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”
“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.
“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”
“How?”
“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”
“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.
“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.
“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”
The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.
“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.
Slime.
“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”
From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.
“Give me a cat!”
“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.
“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.
“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”
“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.
It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.
“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.
“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.
“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.
Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.
Your Sire and sister left you with these things.
It kept trying to climb up your leg.
You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.
“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.
How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.
Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.
It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.
“Let go!”
“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.
“Transform!”
“NEIN!” He said again.
“I am your master!”
“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.
You wanted to strangle this man.
You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.
You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.
The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.
You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.
This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------
@milkywayhou full verson
taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r
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radiance1 · 5 months
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Master List
King of the Blob Ghosts - Mostly flavor text where Danny is the only king of the Blob ghosts. Au not tied in with Ghost King or Ghost Prince hc unless specified.
Goo Dragon - An au where Danny is a goo dragon made entirely of ectoplasm!
Blind King - Danny is blinded by the portal incident, gets adopted by blob ghosts, and then falls into DC and ices over an entire section of a city.
Infinity Prince and the Dark Escapee - Where Danny gets prince training and then has to hunt down Dark Danny because he escaped.(Small thanks to @starlightcat04 and @lauwftzee3542 for ze name)
Cat Familia - Where Danny gets turned into a cat by pissing off a wizard, and accidentally adopts various cats in Gotham!
Tempest - Danny owns a ship called Tempest that he created that he uses to sail through time. Then he accidentally jumps timestreams.
Moth - Where Danny is de-aged and is a moth boy.
Moth - But with Killer Moth.
Eastern Dragon - Danny is the ghost prince and can turn into an eastern dragon.
Cuddly Apocalypse - Teddy Bear Danny au meets one Dark Danny.
Interdimensional Mini Occult Detective - De-aged Tucker gets thrown to another dimension after getting caught lacking by the magical government branch he was looking into.
Herald of Seasons - Danny obtains the ability to guide the seasons when he was split off from .Phantom while still having Vortex's powers
Vortex's lil guy - Soulless Danny gets taken by Vortex and is his little guy.
??? - Phantom causes a ruckus in DC after getting into it and him and Danny fight or something.
Sold to the devil? Nah, sold to the bear - Constantine sells his soul to the Ghost Prince, and is then turned into a baby sitter by the Ghost King.
Demon and Wraith - Demon twins au where both of them are dancers.
Sun and Moon - Based on an older au where Danny and Vlad were deities.
Successor in training - Ghost King Danny except he isn't and Pariah is his mentor.
Just Monika - DDLC is installed on Tucker's PDA somehow and he dates Monika.
Subject M-0001 - Monika hacks into Mount Justice.
Subject Omega - Danny's most perfect clone protects the ruins of Amity Park.
Medic - Danny be a doctor in Gotham.
??? - Pariah Dark just disappears and it's left to Danny and Vlad to find him.
Eastern Dragon and Phoenix au - Mostly a cosmetic au, where Danny is an Eastern Dragon and Vlad is a Pheonix.
Ghost King/Ghost Prince and Duke of the Ghost Zone - Mostly just flavor text really, Danny is usually more Ghost Prince than King and Vlad is the Duke.
Phoenix King Vlad - Exactly as it says, Vlad is either one of or the king of phoenixes
Kawmi? - Where Vlad and Danny get transformed into magical jewelry that allows others to use their powers.
Fountain Dragon - Danny drops in the Wayne Manor Fountain.
Will of the Wisp - Where Danny gets turned into a tiny whisp because of one of his parents inventions.
??? - Jack gets thrown to the DC dimension alongside Danny and made a coffin for Danny to sleep in during ze day.
??? - The Ghost King gets summoned to DC and wages war, but the Ghost Prince stops said war and gets a date out of it.
Teddy Bear Danny - Another cosmetic au where Danny get turned into a stuffed teddy bear in his accident, he was holding onto one before it happened. He's also in ranges of 5-10 here.
Ghost King at birth, Farmer at heart - Mostly cosmetic au where Pariah Dark, if he weren't the ghost king, would be a farmer and he has an intense love for horses.
Farmer with quite the ghostly (and kingly) secret - Pariah Dark disguises himself as a human and moves into Smallville, has a hard time interacting with humans and humaning as a whole.
Life hanging by tape and sheer will - Where Tucker gets yeeted to the DC dimension.
Dream pals? Dream pals! - Younger Danny and pre-Batman Bruce meet each other through a dream, unfortunately when Danny experienced his accident that connection was shut down.
Bakery and a masquerading demon? - Vlad owns a bakery, Constantine is a regular who holds suspicions that Vlad may or may not be a demon.
Gift in the arms of tragedy - Danny becomes Vlad's ward after the Nasty Burger explosion, only to then become adopted when he was turned into an eight-year-old not even a week later.
??? - Danny and Vlad get turned into kids by Clockwork and placed in the DC dimension because Clockwork thought it was funny. Danny decides to use Vlad to not get adopted.
The key(s) to Doomsday - Danny gets de-aged by Clockwork when going to visit Pariah in the human world, gets summoned, and meets Raven.
Alicorn parole - Pariah gets released from his eternal rest with the sole condition that he's to be watched over by Clockwork. The Ancient of War then decides to combine two mythical beasts and shaped himself into an alicorn, Clockwork followed and then they met Billy Batson.
Ferret Danny - Danny is a ferret. That's it.
Witch - Sam is a witch.
Dead eyed Doctor - Danny, the son of Talia Al Ghul and Jack Fenton, trained under Vlad Masters and became a doctor.
Shadow Twin? Shadow Twin. - Danny dies and reincarnates as the son of Talia Al Ghul, the younger brother and twin of Damian Wayne and son of Batman. Only to then be killed immediately after because he was born with a birth defect, thus becoming a shadow creature that follows Damian around.
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cartograffiti · 2 years
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If you want to run a Court of Fey & Flowers Game, dnd isn't what you need
...because it's not what the Dimension 20 cast played, either.
I talked about this a little bit once before, very early in the season, but now that it's done, it's really clear to me that they played Good Society by Storybrewers with a few Dungeons & Dragons elements hacked in, not the other way around. Aabria Iyengar loves Good Society, and it really shows. She merged the systems really beautifully to suit the expectations of D20, and that's why I think players at home will get a better experience by starting with GS materials than by trying to reverse engineer the mechanics Iyengar showed in action.
Things they got from DnD:
-Skill levels/stats.
-Rolling dice to determine success.
-The game master/facilitator (Aabria) playing most characters.
-Some creatures and spells (the dog that has an old man's face, the telepathy spell I can never remember the name of).
-Aabria giving out Inspiration.
Things they got from Good Society:
-The principle of having a character goal that may be kept secret. (In fact, some of D20's specific goals were probably even chosen from Good Society materials. The player character with a secret spouse? There's a card for that.)
-Social reputation tracked by degrees, conferring descriptions and perks. (They did not use GS's exact system. Whether it was a hack or a mix with a game system I haven't played, I don't know.)
-Trading tokens that can be burned to make strong moves. (Again, not GS's exact mechanic--GS uses tokens throughout instead of dice. That game lets you decide what your character is capable of. Tokens make sure everyone has fair chances to act, especially when players have conflicting goals.)
-Additional guidelines and mechanics for agreeing on how the table wants social events to work, as well as how to navigate the varying dynamics of relatives, friends, and rivals.
-Rumors and epistolary phases. (There's a fun post going around about Brennan asking about these because "he wanted to get a good grade in dnd," but I think he was sincerely curious how they worked, because they aren't dnd!)
-The overall cycle of play, dictating the order of phases and pace.
-Some mechanics for the reputations and interactions of fae courts as entities were taken from Good Society's Fae Courts mini-expansion.
-Monologue tokens. (D20 has Aabria as the only one who can use these, GS allows anyone in the game to ask someone to monologue.)
-Additional guidelines for determining world state, character creation, and keeping the story within a consistent style and tone that feels like a recognizably Regency story...even when giant owlbears can get gay married.
-Other flavoring and approach details.
Things Good Society has that Dimension 20 didn't get to show off:
-The ability for players to also choose a secondary character to control, allowing them to participate in more roleplay and experience multiple personalities or social roles in the same game.
-A really rich and thoughtful collaboration phase, before the story begins.
-The ability to share facilitator duties among the table, and to allow the facilitator to play a main character as well as supporting cast.
-Advice and expansions for adjusting the game to various tones, genres, and other historical periods.
So you're looking at buying Good Society:
What you need is pdfs. Definitely grab the base game for $21.00, that has most of what I just described. If you're excited to see their Fae Court specific materials, it's included in the Expanded Acquaintance bundle with many other pieces of content, or there's a bundle of the base game and every expansion they've produced. You do not need to buy the more expensive bundles that include physical books and cards unless professional physical versions delight you, the pdfs are designed to be printable. Storybrewers also made and provide spreadsheet templates for sessions meeting online, so you can all see your worksheet choices.
Good Society is a really fun and flexible system, and it's most of what we loved about how A Court of Fey and Flowers was structured. It's your best route to a recreation, and well worth playing in its original form. I love that it doesn't have stats and dice--if you've never played a ttrpg that doesn't make you do math, this is a great introduction. I'm so glad Aabria featured it on the show!
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hitomisuzuya · 8 months
Text
Part 3 of ? Gamer! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Pussy drunk Scara. Some humor. Childe is in this to.
As promised. Everyone, I am sorry about my mini freak out. You all have been so wonderful and supportive. I feel a lot better, and will respond to comments when I finish typing this.
It had taken a lot of coaxing, and a lot of bribing with sweet purrs and even sweeter sweets, but you finally relented to Scaramouche. It was you in the driver's seat tonight, live streaming playing Five Nights at Freddy's instead of him.
You gave polite thank yous to the ones watching when they saw certain things on the cameras, and navigated your way through the first 2 nights without much incident.
Without much incident that anyone knew of anyways. Because what everyone didn't know is that Scaramouche was underneath his computer desk, completely hidden from view with his tongue lapping at your cunt.
His eyes were intently focused on your face, his eyes narrowed into a glare of concentration. No matter how hard he'd fucked you the last time, you just didn't mess up no matter what.
As hot as it was, it also frustrated him. You usually liked watching, and he could show off for you. Yet, whenever you yourself played, you found some way to do better than he did.
It was quite remarkable actually. And it made him feel proud, honestly. Scaramouche was always an interesting mix of emotions. An absolute powder keg.
He brushed his fingers teasingly on your inner thighs. It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back any noises of pleasure. He swirled his tongue around your clit, smirking when you had to clamp a hand over your mouth, trying to play it off as fright because it was a horror game.
Your cheeks were starting to flush. Scaramouche swept his tongue inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from how good you tasted. He muffled a groan into your cunt, his breath shaky as it vibrated over your clit.
You covered up your moan with a cough behind your hand. The hand that had been in your lap found the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your cunt, fidgeting as you tried to roll your hips up into his mouth without seeming out of the ordinary.
He held your cunt against his mouth, latching his lips around your clit. The tip of his tongue worked ruthlessly over the throbbing bud as he sucked. Your thighs trembled in pleasure. "H-Holy fuck," You suddenly stammered, closing your thighs against the sides of his head.
Someone must've said something about the game, Scaramouche heard you press a key, enjoying your slightly delayed reaction when he swept his tongue inside of you.
"Th-thank you, Childe. I see Foxy now," Scaramouche rolled his eyes, prodding the tip of his tongue against your clit, snickering into your cunt when you squeaked in pleasure. Of course Childe would be watching, that ginger shithead seemed awfully comfortable being so chatty with you.
Night 3 stretched into Night 5
Scaramouche could feel from the way your walls were clamping consistently around his tongue that you were close to cumming. This boy was a master of building up toe curling slow orgasms.
Now he was wishing your mic was muted, because it was getting harder for him to hold back his moans. You tasted fucking incredible. He swirled and lapped his tongue between your walls, gliding his tongue back up to kitten lick your clit.
Your fingernails dug into his scalp, your eyes darting around on the screen, struggling to hold back tears of pleasure welling into your eyes. Your excuses for why you were suddenly acting out of ordinary were sounding dumber and dumber. Scaramouche appreciated how fast you came up with them though.
His favorite was you thought you had a fever. He actually snorted when he heard that one. Yeah, a fever of his warm spit and tongue between your legs.
You grit your teeth. You didn't see Freddy in usual place anymore. This was the critical part of the game. One you just couldn't do right now. Scaramouche was being absolutely ruthless with his tongue.
"I-I'm sorry, everyone. I need to step.." You took a breath, feeling Scaramouche tap your hips impatiently. You hadn't messed up, but this outcome was also desirable. "..away from the stream for a few moments," Childe having to see you lose your composure because you needed him to cum so badly made you taste even sweeter somehow. (Impossible)
You paused the stream, and the game. Muting his mic and turning the camera off, you tossed his headset onto his desk. "Ah God, I can't do it anymore. Make me cum Scara, please!" You pleaded, rolling your hips needily into his mouth.
"That's my good slut," Scaramouche groaned in bliss, his cock throbbing and straining hard in his jeans. "Needing to stop the stream to beg me to cum, what a desperate whore," You cried out loudly, your clit throbbing as his tongue ruthlessly lapped at it.
It took a few firm sucks to your clit before you squirted onto his tongue. He soaked in every last shameless moan. It was intoxicating to him to taste you while he watched you come undone.
Twitching, you collapsed back into his chair, panting while he lapped up your release. When he was satisfied, Scaramouche pushed his computer chair back and slid out from underneath the table.
He curled his fingers underneath your chin, capturing your lips in a heated, passionate kiss as he turned the webcam back on. Feast your eyes on that, Childe! You even moaned loudly into his mouth when he unmuted the mic.
Scaramouche had waited on purpose to wipe his mouth after he pulled away. He looked right at the camera and said, "Sorry everyone, I'll be cumming inside of her now. I dunno if she will be able to make it back for the rest of the stream."
He cut the stream off entirely right in the middle of Childe asking if he could watch.
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Hello friend! I'm in love with your writing!!! 😍😍😍😍😍
Idk if your requests are still open but I'd like to request something if you don't mind!
I LOVED the hurt/comfort/whump fic you did for Hunter. Could you possibly do something like that for Tech x Reader?
Maybe Tech and the reader are on a mission together or maybe they've crash landed somewhere or something. The reader is badly hurt and Tech has to take care of her and treat her wounds and save her and comfort her in his own special Tech way 😂😍
Oh @arctrooper69 what can I say? I mean ... I think a thank you is just not enough. You have made my day with this request, so I took my time to give it the proper respect it deserves. I hope you like it. If it wasn't exactly what you were looking for I do apologize.
Please note that you are always welcome to send in requests. As this is a special request, it will be stored in my One Shots & Mini Series Master List.
The story got a little away from at 1400+ words, but I hope it's close to what you wanted.
And who doesn't love Tech. I love this adorable nerdy man.
Love oo,
His Promise
Warnings: Snow, injury, blood, explosions, crash, grief, fear, anxiety, hurt, fluff, near death, feelings of being a burden, getting in the way, I think that's it. If I miss any, please let me know.
Please note the explanation of Snow, Tech gives, was taken from the National Snow and Ice Data Centre.
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AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List  
The wind was picking up, as the snow piled down and was doing everything in its power to keep you and Tech from being rescued. You looked at the snow as it came down in sheets outside the entrance of the cavern he found, mesmerized by its beauty. 
“It’s beautiful and so calming …” you said slowly, your body already weakened from your injury and loss of blood.
“What are you talking about?” Tech did his best not to let the slowness of your breathing or even the breathless way you were speaking affect him. His anxiety was already high, and his fear of losing you was nearing his breaking point. 
“The snow…” you kept watching the soft flakes float down as they gently landed on the ground, piling on top of one another, almost as though they were unable to survive without the comfort of those around them. 
Tech glanced up to see the blizzard which prevented you both from leaving. As he watched the speed of the wind, he calculated it would’ve been nearly impossible for Hunter to bring the ship close to them. As he looked at the used bandages already soaked through with your blood his fear only grew. You needed immediate medical attention, more than he could provide at the moment, or it would mean certain death for you to be out here any longer.
Frankly, he couldn’t stop picturing the way you lunged forward as the ship crashed. He was helpless to watch you, as your body fell forward against the console, as a piece of the console broke off and jabbed you in your abdomen. It all happened too fast and somehow in slow motion. He could still hear your scream piercing his ear as he pulled you off the console.
He tried to stop the bleeding right away, however when he went to look for the med kit, he realized only too late that it had fallen out of the shuttle when the engine and the side compartment blew. All he had left were his emergency bandages and gauze and they weren’t nearly enough. 
At that moment, he couldn’t care less about how beautiful the snow was or how calming the blizzard looked from inside a cavern, that he only had to find because that piece of osik shuttle decided to have a fuel leak, catching on fire. 
Within seconds he had needed to drag you out of the relatively warm and safe shelter you both had, grabbing what supplies he could before the ship blew up. Thankfully, he had been able to send a message to Hunter when the shuttle crashed initially. So it was only a matter of time before the Marauder showed up, but …
His eyes fell back to the bundle of used gauze, his anxiety climbing as he knew you needed more first aid than he could provide at the moment. You needed the Marauder, you needed his med kit that he carefully stocked and kept safe on board the Marauder. At this point in time, he didn’t care about any kriffing snow.
“Snow is an accumulation of packed ice crystals. The condition of the packed crystals determines a variety of attributes, such as colour, temperature and water equivalent. As weather conditions change, the packed ice crystals can change as well, and this affects the characteristics of snow.”
You chuckled at his ability to pull forth information like it was nothing. Unfortunately the chuckle turned to coughing. Only causing you to dribble more blood out of your mouth, you wiped away what you could. He didn’t need to see that, “Tech …” you coughed again, “turn off your brain for two seconds, don’t think and just look. Just watch.”
He pulled the heater closer towards you, “Stop talking and try and warm up.”
“Tech…” you held his hand, “just look.”
His eyes drifted up your body, till he locked eyes with you. They were pleading for him to listen and to just have him appreciate what you found mesmerizing. He tried to follow your advice, focusing on the snow, but all his mind kept drifting back to was this blizzard that was preventing you from getting the medical attention you needed, so desperately. 
He shook his head focusing back on your abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying his best to keep you with him. 
“Tech,” you gripped his wrist “… stop …”
“No.”
His tone was firm and full of anger, why did he agree to let you come with him? If he used his brain instead of allowing his feelings for you to dictate his actions, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why did you always insist on following him? Why didn’t you just stay behind on Pabu? Simply because you wanted to see the galaxy, and he was excited to show it to you? It was his fault you were here. It was his fault you were in danger. It was his fault he … was going to lose you.
“Tech …” you squeezed his wrist. He removed your hand from his wrist, placing it off to the side as he focused on your wound. He didn’t deserve your touch, he didn’t deserve to have you comfort him. It was his fault you both crashed on this force forsaken planet. 
There was nothing you could do as you watched Tech pull away. 
From the moment you met him on Pabu, the way he worked with Phee as he helped rescue the villagers when the rogue wave was rushing towards the island, and the way he helped make everything more ‘efficient,’ you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You wanted to learn from him, to listen to him go on with regards to anything and everything. Only problem was you never had the courage to actually utter the words you were dying to. Phee told you time and time again, ‘later’ was never a guarantee, and now as you lay on the cold floor of the cavern you were in, bleeding out of your abdomen, you realized how little time there was left. 
  Tears welled up in your eyes, as you realized you needed to unburden yourself. You needed to tell him what had been pressing on your heart before you didn’t have the strength to, it didn’t help that you were feeling weaker with each passing second. Also didn’t help that you could tell he was angry, actually a more accurate description would be infuriated, more than likely at you.
“I’m sorry.” You offered the only apology you could. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden, even now.” You took in a shuddering breath as Tech stopped moving his hands for two seconds as he focused on your face. “I’m sorry for always pestering you to teach me,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for not listening,” a tear slid down your cheek, “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. To have to feel responsible for someone like me.” 
He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his anger, grief, fear, and sadness overwhelmed him completely in that moment. He pulled off his helmet and placed it beside him. 
“Stop.” It was his only command.
“Please, I …” you coughed again, trying to not cough on him. “I just want … I need to …”
He cut off your speech as his hand cupped your cheek, “Cyar’ika …” tears welled up in his eyes, “you were … are never a burden.” He couldn’t believe that’s what you thought of him… that’s what you believed he felt for you. He shook his head again as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have loved every second we have spent together. I made a point to record every moment with you, because they were more precious to me than breathing.”
You held on to his bicep, keeping him close as tears streamed down your cheek, “Tech … I … I don’t want to go… I want … I want to stay here with you…”
“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you …” his tears landed on your cheeks, mixing with your own, “you’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Hold me… please… just hold me until…I can’t feel your arms anymore.”
“I’ll hold you longer than that,” Tech pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he felt your body grow weaker. Your eyes were closed, your body was growing pale. He was so focused on you, he didn’t hear the voices calling out to him, at least not until he felt Hunter’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wait, there were no more seconds to lose. He rushed towards the Marauder with you in his arms, he wasn’t going to lose you. He promised. He was going to bring you back.
AO3 Link   |   OS & MS Master List |   Main Master List 
Tag list:
@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal
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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years
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A super quick five-minute guide to writing a Stranger Things fic with no experience of DnD:
Edited for some clarity since people asked for it. See reblogs for more time-accurate DnD, and more specific rules!
Alternatively; If you never played or barely know DnD, but wish to write about it nonetheless, here are some quick FYI’s
These points are made based on things I have read on this site and other platforms. In no way is this a personal attack if you recognise your own writing! I have seen many posts where people complain about the inaccuracy of DnD represented in fics, but none offer any ideas, so that’s why I wrote this. Hope this helps!
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1. DND IS NOT A TWO PLAYER GAME
You need one Dungeon master, and at least three players to create a good campaign. I’d say a normal party consists out of five players (DM not included), but it can quite easily be bigger.
(There are starter campaigns with one DM and one player, but for a good game, you’d need a bigger party. Introductions to DnD are way more fun with a good group)
2. DND IS NOT A QUICK GAME
There is no such thing as playing a quick round of DnD. Even starter campaigns can be hours long. A short/mini campaign is usually around 4, if not more, hours.
3. THERE ARE MORE DICES THAN JUST THE D20
Though the D20 is the dice you will use more often, there are other ones as well; the D4, D6, D8, D10, and - occasionally - the D100
4. THERE ISN’T ONE DND BOOK
DnD might appear as a fun role playing game, but there is a lot of effort that goes into it. With that counting the books. Players usually only need the Player’s Handbook, which contains information about how to play and how to make a character. Vice versa does the DM have a Dungeon Master’s guide, which introduces them to the game and how to direct it. Aside from that, there are a lot of other books containing different worlds, campaigns, creatures, characters, monsters etc. etc.
5. YOU CANNOT MAKE YOUR OWN DND HANDBOOK
Bouncing back on point 4, as there are many books, there are also many pages. A book isn’t easily studied, and is usually only used as a reference, and not something you have to know by heart. It is incredibly difficult to memorise every little detail of only one book. Aside from that, there are many many rules and restrictions bound to certain worlds and characters, so creating your own book, 9 out of 10 times would not make sense. It doesn’t make it impossible, but it is highly unlikely. Also, the DM will often times pitch in on which races and classes to use for certain campaigns, so creating your own species often won’t get you very far.
6. NOT ALL DND CAMPAIGNS HAVE A MAP AND MINIATURES
In season 4, we see Eddie’s campaign, with it a map and miniatures of creatures (under which Vecna), but this doesn’t occur as often as you think. Starter campaigns or other well known campaigns do contain maps, and miniatures of both the characters and creatures, but this is only because most of those campaigns don’t actually allow you to make your own character. A campaign self-written, or a campaign taken from a book about a certain world often times do not have anything, save from some drawings of your surroundings. There will be a lot of times you’ll have to imagine your character standing in a certain spot.
7. WRITING A CAMPAIGN IS DIFFICULT AND ISN’T WRITTEN IN A DAY
Extending some information; writing campaigns are a pain in the ass. As a first time DM, you will not write your own campaign. Unless you are really committed and already have some experience as a player…. If you have played often, writing a campaign is possible, but it takes weeks, if not months. A lot of info and rules and restrictions and creatures etc. etc. are involved in the process. Besides that, you’ll have to help your players out with their characters to fit to your world, while not revealing too much. You cannot write a campaign in a night.
8. CREATING A CHARACTER TAKES A LONG TIME
Like writing a campaign, a character also takes time. If you are really dedicated, you might have one in an hour, but if you want to properly study every race, class and background, you’ll be stuck in the books for a while. And that’s not even with counting characteristics, alliances, backstory, mannerisms, bonds, relations…. And then you’ll have to actually get in character. It takes time.
(As said, some people can create characters quickly, but this is with experience. More often than not, if you want to write a good character, you’ll be busy for quite a while)
9. EVERYTHING RELIES ON THE DUNGEON MASTER
As a player, you can’t change the story. You can’t make things up. Everything, and I mean everything, goes by the Dungeon Master first. You can’t propose things, you can’t ignore things. Dungeon Masters spent a lot of time working on campaigns, even the ones that have already been written. They know what happens, they decide. There is no second voice.
(Yes, players are able to interact with the story. It wouldn’t be DnD if you couldn’t, but the DM knows what happens, and the players - or the characters - do not. You could ignore creatures or buildings. Smart? Meh.)
Hope this helped! If not, feel free to ask or leave a suggestion!
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milunalupin · 2 months
Text
— tale as old as time
a/n: welcome to my beast!remus x beauty!reader series ! i hope you come along this journey with me and enjoy!
chapter one
remus lupin x reader ★ 1.4k words
Gowns and music filled the ballroom, the castle's servants walking around with silver trays of the most luxurious desserts in France. Beautiful and wealthy people danced around to the sound of the piano and the most famous opera singer money could buy in all of Europe.   
The ballroom was decked out in glimmering jewels and fresh flora, the smell of roses strong in the air.  In the middle was Prince Remus Lupin, twirling countless girls about, a smirk on his handsome powdered face.  The Lupins ruled the Alsace region, their wealth apparent by their acres of meticulously landscaped property, the glimmer of the sun on the enormous castle blinding. Remus was an only child who was raised by King Lyall and Queen Hope, until the queen passed away from an illness many years ago, leading the Prince to grow up with the influence of his cold and selfish father.
Staff members were forced to turn a blind eye when they would see the young master walk through the castle with watery eyes or badly hidden bruises. No matter how much they pitied him, his father would rid them of their job in a heartbeat if they dared speak up about it. With every passing year, Prince Remus grew to be increasingly more his father, prioritizing status over everything.  Remus' life was filled with anything he wanted, and obviously once you have everything, things get boring. So, he constantly hosted balls and invited only the most beautiful and influential people in France. Men and women came from all over the country dressed in the most lavish of outfits, trying to gain the attention of the young Prince. 
In a silky yellow tailcoat stood the royal family's head of kitchen staff, Sirius Black. He let out an exaggerated sigh as he stood along his colleagues, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.  "How many girls will leave crying tonight, do you think?" 
James, dressed in all white with embroidered lapels, rolled his eyes and frowned as he watched the Prince.  "He'll never get married if he keeps acting like this, never form a true bond with anyone." 
A huff came from Peter, who looked the worst out of the three of them (according to Sirius), in a simple brown waistcoat. He held his prized pocket watch in his hand, constantly checking the time to ensure the party was running smoothly.  "The prince's love life isn't really any of our business, Sirius." 
Peter Pettigrew, to say the least, was a suck up, and nothing but loyal to the royal family. It was in his blood; his family having served the royal family for decades. Naturally, he started working under his father in the administrative department and moving ranks until he was appointed head of house, managing the rest of the staff as His Highness' right-hand man. 
James Potter credits everything he has now to his beautiful mother, Euphemia, who was an incredible seamstress who worked in the castle years prior. Now, James assists the young master with his clothing as well as leads the housekeeping staff with his mini assistant Harry, who's favorite thing to do is fold the towels into swans. 
Sirius met James when they worked together at a pub in town before James accepted his position among the royal staff. He was an orphan who had run away from his abusive foster parents. Euphemia felt for the boy and had immediately taken them in like her own son. Cooking meals with his new family ignited his love for food and with help from the Potters, had gone to culinary school. Later, with James's help, began as a waiter at the castle turned kitchen manager. 
Prince Remus, to be frank, doesn't love, not really once his mother had passed. Once under the orders of his father, his image, and the people he surrounded himself with became a priority. Being human was being vulnerable, and being vulnerable was being weak. That's why he found himself surrounded by attractive women, knowing that each one hanging onto his arm believed that they would be the one he fell in love with, inheriting his fortune and power. His arm was around one of the maidens' waists, loosely spinning her as his eyes scanned the room for someone more interesting. 
"My lord, I can't help but believe you might have an interest in me. this is the second time we've danced tonight; you need not be so shy." 
His eyes dropped back to Amelie? Emily? who blushed under his gaze, looking up at him through her fluttering eyelashes. He scoffed and retracted his hand from her waist, pushing past her towards another, ignoring her pleas and attempts to grab his arm. As much fun as he had being the center of attention and being the one everyone wanted to be with, he despised the desperate ones, none of them being worth his actual time. 
-
"Papa, I brought the napkins you asked for!" 
Sirius, James, and Peter turned to find Harry, James's son, holding a stack of cloth napkins up to him with a bright smile, his glasses sliding down his nose. James grinned as he took the napkins from Harry, pushing his glasses back up his nose and fixing his hair. 
"Great job Harry, now run along." 
"You've got him working already Potter? A chip off the old block, that one is." Peter chuckled, smiling along his colleagues as they watched little Harry skip away. 
The doors suddenly burst open, a woman in a cloak falling to the ground, her hood slipping and exposing her ratty grey hair. The maidens closest to the door gasped and squealed as they backed up, trying to distance themselves from the old woman. The music has stopped, Prince Remus weaving his way through the crowd to stand before the elderly intruder. 
"Who let you in, peasant? This ball is invite only." 
The woman looked up, her cloudy grey eyes looking into the Prince's. She held up a single rose, offering him the flower for temporary shelter from the cold. Prince Remus scoffed, rolling his eyes at the woman. The party goers laughed at the old woman from the other side of the ballroom. 
A smirk appeared on the old woman's face, as her body under the cloak began to glow a warm yellow, what seemed liked enchanted haze spreading towards the aghast party goers. Flower petals began to float around the woman as she transformed into a younger, more beautiful version of herself, her now bright blue eyes staring into the Prince's. The guests screamed at they scrambled to escape the sorcery they've witnessed, polished shoes trampling over expensive fabric and rose petals. 
The royal staff looked on in fear, not knowing how to help their master in this situation. James weaved through the people rushing out and found Harry hiding in a corner. He picked him up and turned to head out the door but stopped when he heard a deep growl coming from the center of the room. 
The cloud of magic enveloped Prince Remus, his bones cracking and expanding as his body slowly transformed him into a large, furry monster. His perfect silk robes tearing and falling off the Prince's new body. Large curved horns grew out of his head, and his perfect teeth evolved into sharp fangs. His once perfect appearance turned into one of a menacing animal. 
The young Prince had failed his test from the enchantress. He had not shown kindness to a stranger in need and had confirmed his own selfishness and entitlement. He was mean and ugly on the inside, so she had turned him into who he really was, a beast. Adding on to that, she left a powerful spell on the castle and villagers, turning the royal staff into household objects for allowing the Prince's behavior, and erasing all memory of the royal castle and its inhabitants from the villagers. The curse was infinite, unless the prince managed to make someone fall in love with him. 
Over the years the castle grew colder, lonelier as Remus and his staff became more hopeless for a chance to end the curse. Snow had fallen over the crumbling castle and grounds, the bitterness of the cold outside matching what Remus was feeling in his heart. 
 He was doomed, turned into a disgusting monster for the rest of his days, because who could ever learn to love a beast? 
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daytaker · 3 months
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Hey man, congrats on 250 followers. Can you do the "sleep cute" prompt with Solomon? Love your work, keep it up. It's really your choice but could it be platonic if you do it?
Thank you so much, Anon! I was about three quarters done with this when it occurred to me that it didn't quite fit the "sleep cute" trope, but they sleep, and it's quite cute, so hopefully you don't mind.
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The Best Apprentice
Solomon x Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1206 CW: minor injuries; a whiff of the suggestive, but barely
[Part of my 250 Followers Mini Event!]
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It’s almost three o’clock in the morning when the sound of a small explosion coming from Solomon’s room sends you jumping out of bed and skidding down the hallway between his room and yours. Not bothering to knock, you throw the door open, only to find the sorcerer standing up beside his desk, blinking rapidly and looking almost as confused as you do.
“Oh! Ahaha… I’m sorry, did that wake you up?” He smiles apologetically, running a hand through his messy hair. He yawns, and you peer past him to see just what the hell could have made that sound.
On the table, you see what you once would have assumed was a chemistry set of some sort. Now, of course, you recognize that Solomon’s been brewing some potion or other. Or, he had been. One of the vials of liquid seems to have exploded. Tiny shards of glass cover the desk, and, you’re alarmed to realize, your mentor’s right hand.
“What happened?” You sound more annoyed than you intended as you step gingerly across the room. You have on socks, but that doesn’t make you feel much better knowing shards of glass are probably lying on the floor too.
“I…” He yawns again and chuckles sheepishly. “I fell asleep with one of my reagents stirring. It’s a good thing too, because if I’d been sitting up, I’d have gotten glass in my face.”
“If you had been sitting up,” you counter, “it wouldn’t have exploded.”
“Ahaha… Touché,” Solomon admits, then he holds his arm out, preventing you from stepping any closer. “Now, careful, or you’ll get cut.”
He utters a quick incantation, and the shattered glass dissolves from the desk. With that out of the way, Solomon looks grimly at the beakers that still sit intact on his desk. “I need more devilfish oil and sassafras.” He sighs. “I’m low on a few bonding agents too, so I guess it’s time I went shopping.”
“The only place it’s time for you to go is bed,” you say in a no-nonsense tone. This seems to only amuse Solomon, much to your annoyance. “I’m not joking. If you fell asleep at your desk, you clearly need the rest.”
He steps closer to you and cups your cheeks in his hands, smiling at you with an expression somewhere between ‘impish’ and ‘adoring’.
“Now, now,” he says lightly, pressing his forehead to yours. You deadpan as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s hardly something for an apprentice to be telling their master, isn’t it?”
“First of all, you’re my mentor, not my master.” You give a small scowl at this overstep of his and gently remove his hands from your cheeks, taking a small step back. “And second, I’m not telling you as your apprentice. I’m telling you as your friend.”
He cants his head to the side, his smile growing just a fraction of an inch. “Just as my friend?”
“Don’t push your luck, Solomon.”
“Well, pardon me. With the way you’re still holding onto my hands, you’re sending me mixed messages.”
“You’re impossible.” You drop his left hand but hold his right one up and look it over. It seems the glass that had struck him was magicked away by the same spell that took care of the rest of it, but there are still little cuts on the back of it. He could have taken care of this in an instant, you know, but he didn’t. Probably because he wants you to do it.  Muttering an incantation, you heal the cuts on his hand and let it go.
As you predicted, Solomon appears supremely pleased as he looks his hand over. “Well, look at that. All better!” He looks up at you again with smiling eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”
“Hmm…” Solomon turns around and walks back over to the desk, tapping it with his forefinger. “No, I don’t think I will.”
“Excuse me?” You fold your arms and glare at him, but he’s no longer looking at you. He’s looking over the beakers on his desk again. Or pretending to, at least. You don’t trust this little stunt of his for a second.
“I’m so busy with my research,” he explains. You don’t need to see his face to know there’s a shiteating grin on it. “I’m just not feeling very motivated to go to sleep right now.”
“You realize you’re behaving like a child, right?”
Solomon peers over his shoulder at you and shrugs, his smile never wavering, before returning his attention to his lab setup, carefully capping some vials while preparing to mix some others together. He’s such a pain in the ass sometimes.
So you approach him and hug him from behind. “Please?” Two can play the childish card. You aren’t so easy to outdo.
For just a fraction of a second, you feel Solomon tense. Then he laughs.
“How badly do you want me to sleep, exactly?”
“Soooo badly.”
He swivels around and you’re hit with something like déjà vû. He cups your cheeks with his hands and presses his forehead to yours again. Only this time, your arms are still around him. And his smile is just so… Solomon.
“Alright. If you insist. But you’re going to join me.”
You sigh. And Solomon, interpreting that as a response, drops your cheeks and takes a step back, looking a little put out, but more embarrassed. It’s surprising to actually see him like that.
“Sorry.” He’s smiling again already. “That was a little out of line, wasn’t it.” Pink still dusts his cheeks as he looks intently down at the desk, as if he’s searching for something. “But alright, you win. I’ll go to bed. Sorry again about waking you.”
“Solomon,” you reply, crossing your arms. You’re almost sighing again. Almost. “I didn’t say no.”
He perks up almost instantly.
“But don’t get any weird ideas! You said you wanted me to join you! Nobody said anything about anything else, understand?”
“Of course,” he replies with a beam. “Surely you didn’t think I had any impure intentions? Or did you maybe hope that I did…?”
You turn around to walk out of the room.
“Alright, sorry, understood! Ahaha… You’re so tricky to please sometimes!”
Solomon flops down on his bed and scoots to the far end of it, patting the spot beside him. You’re a little bit more embarrassed than you’d anticipated as he watches you climb on up after him and get under the covers. You stare at the ceiling, uncomfortable and a bit on edge, when you feel Solomon roll onto his side to face you.
“Hey.”
You turn your head to look at him. He’s awfully close, unsurprisingly. You can’t stop a nervous giggle from spilling out. He smiles softly at this and touches your cheek. “You really are the best apprentice I ever could have hoped for. Thanks for everything.”
The tension inside you seems to melt away like snow as you roll onto your side and snuggle up to the sorcerer. “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”
“So bossy,” he chuckles under his breath.
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
“Goodnight, Solomon.”
“Goodnight, my adorable apprentice.”
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dontexpectmuch · 3 months
Text
a jude bellingham mini series
[Lost in Madird] - Masterlist
tropes; jude being annoying and reader questioning their life choices, strangers2friends2lovers (at least i hope),, blackcat!reader/ golden retriever!jude, jude falls first and harder, reader will be older than jude in this series, only bc i really like this trope (around 2 years), reader is in denial, jude is a dork, happy ending (???) :)
author note; this series is a product of my imagination, jude bellinghams character is displayed the way i think of what he might be like, i do not wish to make him a perfect human being, nor do i want him to be shown in a bad light. though this is a xreader series, the character won’t exactly be like you are, hence some choices the character is going to make won’t always please you. thank you for reading this series, i hope to have a great time writing it, allowing you to have an even greater time reading it.
summary; as a linguistics major, you have always taken interest in the different ways people pick up languages and the various ways to learn those. So, in order to write your master thesis, you decide to do an internship at a sports center in madrid, a place where different people from different countries come together in order to work and therefore have to learn the spanish language. and with fate on your side -is it really?- you meet different people, people with a high status even. or in short; you meet jude bellingham every time you actually want to be alone.
prologue
part one
part two
part three
part four
part five
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bagopucks · 1 year
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Q. Hughes - Plus One
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✄————————————
Quinn Hughes x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Warning(s): Implied smut, little make-out, some seducing, other than that just general fluff
Proofread Once
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“They are just so in love, I remember when we looked at each other like that.”
I had asked Quinn to attend this wedding with me. I thought by the look on his face the day I did ask, that he would have immediately said no.
“It’s just a family wedding, please?”
“I don’t know…” he seemed to contemplate the idea for a while before agreeing. “As long as you don’t leave me alone anywhere.”
It was a promise I could make. We rented a house and flew out to the Florida Keys together on a Monday. After a bit of discussion, Quinn and I decided to turn the wedding weekend into a vacation week. He said he was excited for the time on the beach away from family or friends. Excluding myself of course. We spent the said week finding restaurants to eat at, mini golfing, swimming, watching endless movies, and learning how to mix drinks. By the time Saturday came, Quinn was sitting on the couch opposite of me, massaging my feet in his lap, and telling me how excited he was to meet my family. A contrast to the beginning of the week when he wanted nothing to do with anybody.
“Are you ready yet?” Quinn called from the bottom floor, his voice easily heard from the loft master bedroom we had agreed to share only because this had been the last house that wasn’t booked on the week we needed it. I looked myself over one last time, a short baby blue dress with Birkenstock sandals. I curled my hair and applied a small amount of makeup to avoid sweating it off on the beach during the ceremony. I adjusted the rings on my fingers and fixed my necklace before I heard Quinn making his way up the steps. A nervous smile painted my lips.
When he made it to the top, I turned to look at him. Quinn smiled at me, looked me over, then blushed. I was doing too much of my own looking to even notice the flush in his cheeks. I was far more focused on the curls in his long hair, and the flutter of his lashes.
“You look good.” It was sudden, the way I began to feel as though the room heated up. I clasped my hands together in front of myself and let out a low sigh. “Are you ready now?” He looked impressed with how long it had taken me to get ready.
“Yeah.. sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. But four hours or one wouldn’t have made much a difference.” He smirked at the confusion on my face. “You’d look beautiful all the same.” Quinn and I were used to complimenting each other, but it felt especially good when I got as dolled up as I had. He held his hand out for me, and I approached slowly to grab it.
“I’m surprised some guy didn’t beat me to this.”
“Correction, you should be surprised I asked you first.” I teased, smiling at the soft laugh that fell from his lips.
“Thought I would have been your first option.” Quinn spoke as he guided me down the steps.
“You technically were, but I know how busy your family is with playoffs going on, and I didn’t want to steal you from all that.”
Quinn glanced back at me. “I’m kinda glad you did.” I hadn’t been expecting his answer.
“Really?”
“My parents- all they ever do is talk about Jack and Luke right now. And I get it. It’s their moment- but it’s nice to have something of my own going on. Ya know?” I squeezed his hand and smiled softly.
“I get it. It sucks when you’re the oldest sibling and the younger ones are doing all the things people expected you to do first.” I liked to think I was a breath of fresh air for Quinn. That our mutual understanding of being oldest siblings was what drew him to me, and he had told me so on multiple occasions.
The drive to the parking lot closest to the beach was a short one. It was rented out and packed full of cars. People were standing around talking, smiling and laughing, jovial as ever. With Quinn’s own family, I knew he would have been just as excited. But I could tell the moment I peeked at him, he was tense.
“Quinny,” I chided.
“What if they don’t like me? Jack says I have an RBF. What if they think I’m judging them?”
“You haven’t met my younger sister yet.” I shook my head. “My family is accustomed to quiet grumpy types.”
“I’m not grumpy.” Quinn turned the car off and turned to me.
“Just a little, Quinner.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes at me before climbing out of the car. I was swift to follow. We met each other around the trunk of the rental. I straightened Quinn’s tie before I heard the squeal of a child and the little girls arms wrap around my legs from behind.
“She’s here!”
Introducing Quinn to my family was as hot of a mess as it could get. I had to tell each individual person that we weren’t dating, only for them to nod their heads in mocking disbelief when Quinn would rest his hand on my lower back and follow me around like a lost puppy. He did me no favors in convincing anybody we were friends. He did some talking on his own, but introductions and excited conversations ceased when the large group of family and friends of the bride and groom, began down the boardwalk to the beach. Quinn and I remained near the back of the group, and we remained there even when we sat down in the pews. The few people around us turned to speak occasionally, but Quinn and I were in our own little world.
Until it was invaded by the great grandparents of the bride and groom.
“Well don’t you look hot.” I’d met Goldie a handful of times. She was always a bit.. lacking in filter. An old woman still able to walk, and hell I’d bet fifty bucks she could still run too. She was lively and sweet, but headstrong all the same.
“Thank you,” I laughed softly, dragging my hand down the front of my dress, adjusting the low neckline that dipped quite far.
“I remember when I was your age. I loved dressing like that. My husband loved it too.” That brought laughter from the two men seated beside us. I glanced back at Quinn with a knowing smile.
“I used to have one dress in particular, that got him all kinds of riled up. Always wore that one when I wanted something.” Sometimes one could only laugh at the woman’s lack of privacy. Which was what Quinn and I both did.
“Grandma!” The bride’s aunt immediately turned around from the seat in front of us. Goldie looked forward with an innocent expression. “They don’t want to hear that.”
“I was just giving some advice to this lovely girl. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Goldie defended herself.
“Did she ask for it?” The woman in the row in front of us questioned.
“She didn’t have to. I could tell by the look on her face, she needed it. Her boyfriend could probably use a bit too.”
“Oh- we’re not.. together.” I quickly corrected, tensing at my own words. I always wished we were, but Quinn and I had been strictly friends since the dawn of time.
Goldie eyed us with a blank expression, then scoffed, rolled her eyes, and waved her hand in a dismissive motion. Her silver bracelets clinked.
“You will be.”
The music started, and all conversation quieted, then eventually ceased. I adjusted myself in my seat, my knees pressed into the side of Quinn’s thigh since he sat on the edge of the pew. I was turned toward the isle to see the bridesmaids come down with the groomsmen.
“Look how pretty she is,” I whispered excitedly as the first, mine and the bride’s mutual friend, came down.
“She’s okay.” Quinn mumbled in return. I gently swatted his thigh before my hand came to rest there.
“Don’t be rude.” I countered, though a piece of my confidence was boosted by his response. He told me I looked great today, but he wouldn’t compliment that girl. The one in an exquisite dress, walking down the aisle. Quinn couldn’t possibly have a thing for me…
“She’s beautiful too.” This time, it was spoken in more a coaxing way. My gaze flickered go Quinn while the next woman walked down the aisle. Watching the way his gaze lingered before he looked away. Uninterested, but trying to seem invested.
“She’s not really my type.” I hated how excited I got, and I hated even more so how hard I found it not to smile when his eyes met mine. I hadn’t known I was leaning into his personal space until we both realized how close our faces were. I slowly leaned back and laughed softly.
“Sorry.. I’m just excited.”
“It’s okay.” Quinn rested his hand atop my own and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Weddings are exciting.”
Once the pairs reached the end of the aisle, the new song started, and everybody rose. I gently removed my hand from Quinn’s to rest on his chest, pushing very slightly. He stepped back until his legs were pressed against the pew seat, trying to give me room to see. The moment she passed, I was beaming. One of my best friends, my closest family friend for the longest time. We used to daydream about getting married together. I was elated to see her dream coming true. Marriage was all she’d ever hoped for as a little girl. Her perfect wedding. Perfect husband. Perfect life.
“Wow,” I whispered as I felt Quinn’s arm wrap around my back.
“Why don’t you sit on the outside? So you can see better?” Such a subtle thing, but one I couldn’t help but appreciate immensely. Quinn and I shuffled around one another, and sat down once we were permitted to do so. Then the ceremony began. Quinn draped his arm over the back of the pew, and I found myself leaning into his side as time passed by. Occasionally he’d whisper something to me. Point something out or make a quiet joke that only the two of us understood. We’d giggle quietly and share eye contact, then giggle some more. At one point I started gently pulling sideways on his tie to make it crooked. He’d readjust it and roll his eyes. Then, eventually, he gave up with my antics and grabbed my other hand to keep it still. Quinn was never as grumpy as people made him out to be. It simply took the right type of person to make him happy and content.
When the ceremony ended, the chaos began once again. Quinn and I tried to avoid it for the most part, content to sit and watch everybody talk and laugh, and take their turns congratulating the bride and groom. I would do so at some point, but I was in no rush when there was one hell of a reception following.
We spoke with a few others, then Quinn and I slipped away to go back to our car. I was too excited to notice the way I grabbed Quinn’s hand and dragged him back to the boardwalk. He didn’t seem to mind anyhow.
“I loved that dress on her- god she was so beautiful, Quinn.” I babbled on, and he listened with a smile on his face.
“What kind of dress do you want?” His question caught me off guard, and my head swiftly snapped in his direction.
“What?”
“When you get married,” he explained. “What dress do you want to wear?”
“Oh god Quinn. I have so many things- something that flows- but preferably something I can pin up so I don’t step on the skirt at my reception. And I want a top with lace sleeves- or no sleeves at all.”
“Backless?” He cut in.
“Backless, for sure.” I agreed as we made it back to the car. Quinn opened my door for me, and I thanked him before slipping into the vehicle. We waited to leave until most others began to do so. We followed the bulk of the wedding traffic to the reception venue. A big shoreside building that had indoor and outdoor seating, a beautiful view of the ocean, and all the drinks one could want.
When we arrived, Quinn and I gave our names to the hostess and found our seats. The tables were round, decorated in white lace tablecloths. Each seat was accompanied by an empty plate and an upside down champagne glass, as well as a notecard with one’s name and a thank you note written on it. The lights were dim, the music turned on low.
“I’m starving.” Quinn muttered, and I could only laugh at how much he sounded like Jack. Even Luke. Those boys were always hungry.
“Patience.” I reminded. Thankfully, Quinn didn’t need too much of that. The bridal party came in, soon the bride and groom followed. A round of applause and cheering took place before everyone was seated and tables were called left and right to be served. Quinn and I found relief in knowing we were sat at a table with Goldie and her husband Frank. I was even more so relieved to know Quinn enjoyed their presences. That RBF he spoke of was nowhere in sight the moment Frank struck up a conversation with him.
The food was eaten, speeches spoken, cake cut. The main traditional festivities were long forgotten once the dance floor was opened up and people really began to party. Goldie dragged Frank off to the dance floor, and Quinn and I were left in a fit of laughter at the sight of his helpless expression.
Quinn wouldn’t say it, but there was a look of familiarity on his face. I was always dragging him around like that. And no matter how hard he tried to act like he hated it, he loved it.
“I’m gonna go get a refill on this champagne. Did you want anything from the bar?” I asked as I rested my hand on Quinn’s back. He shook his head and smiled at me.
“Just don’t leave me alone too long.”
“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” I reached out to ruffle his hair before reminding myself he spent far too long on it in the bathroom for me to put his hour of work to waste. So I withdrew my hand and laughed softly, taking my glass and waltzing off to the bar. The woman there was kind, striking up a conversation that lasted well after she finished pouring me a fresh glass of champagne. She asked of my relation to the bride, how I was enjoying the party, if the wedding went well.
By the time we finished speaking, I had to fight my way back through the standing crowd to find Quinn. He hadn’t moved an inch, but my brow furrowed the second I spotted the distress on his face.
“Quinn!” I called, catching his attention as I arrived at the table. He turned his phone off and set it face down on the surface. I didn’t know which question to ask first. Is he okay? Did something happen? Was his family alright? “You look tense.” I decided not to ask a question at all.
“I’m fine.” He dismissed my statement with one of his own. I shook my head.
“Open up, Quinn. What’s going on?” I set my glass down and turned my seat to face his own before I sat down. Quinn let out a quiet sigh and shrugged.
“My mom texted. Said the Devils lost tonight. It’s their third game in a row now. One more and they’re out.”
“I see.”
“Jack’s gonna be devastated.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his face as if it might erase the stress. Stress that wasn’t even his own.
“Quinn.” I caught his attention. “You don’t have to carry the weight on your brother’s shoulders all the time. I understand you want to be there, but- sometimes it’s okay to not worry about it.” I reached out to wrap my hand around his wrist. “How many times did you clean his boo-boos?”
“Too many.”
“And how many times did you sit with him until he fell asleep? Because there was a monster under his bed.”
“A lot.”
“You were there for him when USA didn’t win gold. You were there for him when his first girlfriend broke his heart. Hell, you were there for most of his rookie year. Quinn, you throw away all of your time for your brothers. I know you do it out of choice.. and you’re the most selfless person I know, but please.. just this once. Worry about it later.” I searched his eyes for any indication that he’d give in. Throw in the towel and have a good time. A piece of me expected him not to, especially when he sighed and picked up his phone. But then he turned it off. Then he set it back down, and reached for my hand.
“Come dance with me.” Then I realized, I finally convinced Quinn Hughes, to just forget about it. Jack probably wouldn’t even call for a while anyway. He’d have Luke. He’d have his team to lean on. Quinn’s number would hopefully be the last on his list of lifelines.
“You’re supposed to ask, not demand.” I slipped my hand into his own and we stood up.
“I’ll ask when we get outside.”
“Outside?”
“The sun is setting, there’s barely anyone out there, and enough space to dance without feeling squeezed in with everybody else.” Quinn explained as his gaze drifted toward the large windows of the venue. “Don’t make me stand around all those people.” He pleaded, and I giggled at the antisocial behavior I was used to seeing from him.
“Alright, weirdo.” I let him drag me off, swiping up my glass of champagne before I got too far from it. Quinn led me outside, past the propped open doors, and found a clear space for the two of us to dance. Only when he glanced back at me, did he wrinkle his nose at my occupied hand- holding my champagne.
“Dude,” there was a playful yet judgmental tone in his voice.
“You haven’t even tried it.” I held the glass out.
“Cuz I don’t wanna be drunk tonight.” He smiled, scoffing.
“How’s come?” I taunted.
“Because I wanna remember all of this. I wanna be completely sober, so I can remember the way you look. Right here… right in front of me, in that beautiful dress, and with the most beautiful smile, and those beautiful eyes.” I was speechless, my breath caught somewhere in my throat as a wide smile parted my lips. It almost hurt my cheeks.
“Okay well..” I paused. “Tipsy isn’t drunk.” Was I avoiding the compliments? The flirting? Possibly.
“Tipsy is still hazy.” Quinn argued as he rested his hands on my hips. “And I’d never want a single memory of you to be hazy.”
I placed my free hand on his shoulder, smiling uncontrollably at his words. The Hughes brothers may have sounded like men of few words when it came to the media, but Quinn certainly had a way with his.
“Quintin Hughes,” I turned my head to the side, resting my cheek against his chest. Quinn set the pace as he slowly began to sway, my body following suit within his hold. “Where’d this come from?”
“Years of loving you.” The words were spoken so softly that I had completely missed them. I squeezed his shoulder.
“Speak up, Q.”
“I love you.” The initial shock left me silent. His grip on my hips tightened. In anticipation, fear of rejection, hope and relief. I slowly lifted my head, looking up at him in wonder. My hand slid from his shoulder toward the back of his neck. A nervous smile formed on Quinn’s lips.
“Sorry,” he laughed out awkwardly. I shook my head in disapproval for his apology.
“No. No, Quinn please don’t take that back.” I set my glass of champagne aside on the nearest table. “I’ve waited forever to hear you say that, please don’t take it back now.” I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders. His smile eased into a genuine one. Our hearts beat quickly, our embrace tightened, bodies impossibly close, pressed to one another. As if the thought of parting would simply kill us.
“I won’t, then.” Quinn dipped his head toward my own. Our noses brushed, causing quiet bouts of laughter to erupt from lips that locked within seconds. Laughter silenced, though it was impossible to remain lip-locked for long when we could barely contain our smiles.
“You’re gonna make me look like a liar,” I whispered against his lips.
“Cause you kept telling everybody we weren’t dating?” Quinn pulled back only slightly, to look me in the eyes.
“Yeah.” I laughed softly.
“Technically we’re still not dating.” His smile was contagious, but not quite as enjoyable as kissing him. I moved my hands to hold his face, guiding his lips back to my own. I never would have guessed it would take a week alone with him to get him to open up, nor would I have guessed Quinn ever would have liked me. We took our time before pulling back, sighing before drawing in our own breaths of air. Quinn reached out to push a few locks of hair from my face, tucking it securely behind my ear.
“Two days.” He thought aloud.
“Two days?”
“Until I have to take you back.” He clarified. “Two days until we’re apart for two weeks.”
“It’s just two weeks, Quinner.” I assured.
“Then we have the lake house.” He reminded both himself and me.
“The lake house, and I’m coming back to Michigan with you. Don’t forget.”
“Do you have to go to Europe?”
“I already told my girlfriends I would.” I laughed, running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine for two weeks.”
“Two weeks with Luke- maybe Jack.. and my parents. They’ll drive me insane.”
“You act like your family is unbearable.” I wrapped my arms around Quinn’s shoulders again.
“They’re okay,” he joked with a shrug. I laughed and leaned forward to kiss his jaw. “I’ll be counting the days too. But let’s focus on these two days, yeah?”
“Movie night tonight?” He asked, his hands drifting past my lips to wrap around my back.
“You just confessed your love to me, and you wanna watch movies?” I whispered with an amused smile.
“Did you have something else in mind?” I could tell by the look in his eyes, that he caught on. He was merely playing hard to get.
“Take me home and find out.” Quinn’s smile widened before he stepped away and held his hand out for my own.
“Now?” He asked.
“Now.” I clarified.
“Come on.” He urged, his excitement unmatched. I grabbed his hand, and we practically rushed through the building to get our personal belongings. Quinn draped his suit jacket over my shoulders, held my clutch for me, and out the doors we went.
We made occasional conversation on the drive back to our house, but we were far too focused on what was to come, to be truly invested in a discussion. When we got to the house, Quinn told me not to get out of the car. Confused by his words, but deciding to trust him, I sat patiently while he got out and ran around the hood of the car. If only I’d taken a video of how funny he looked.
My smile practically reached my ears when he opened my car door and held his arms out.
We weren’t the newlyweds, but I still let him carry me like a princess to the front door. I was on key duty, unlocking and opening the door so he could carry me inside. He kicked the door shut behind us, and I shuttered when I felt his lips on my neck.
“Quinn,” his name fell from my lips in surprise, want laced in my tone.
“I’m gonna set you down.” He whispered in warning before he gently placed my feet on the ground. He kicked his shoes off by the door, and knelt down to undo the buckles of my sandals. His hair was finally fair game, so I leaned forward and ran my hands through it while he slipped off my first shoe. Quinn pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and my grip on his hair tightened momentarily, before he worked on the second shoe.
“Hurry up,” I urged just as he slipped my second shoe off. He trailed lazy kisses up my leg, stopping at the hem of my skirt before he stood up, quiet chuckles falling from both our lips when his nose got caught on the fabric of my skirt, pulling it up only slightly before I had fixed the fabric and leaned into his grip. His hands found my hips, and his lips- they certainly found mine as well. Quinn’s hands slipped down my back, nipping at my lip. When his hands found the bottom of his suit jacket, he tugged it off and let it hit the floor, one of the buttons clacking against the hard wood. I pulled away before his wandering hands could get anywhere else.
“Come on,” Quinn groaned out. I stood just out of reach, a challenging smirk on my lips. It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he reached for me. I stepped out of his reach again, and soon it became a game of chase. An effective way to lead him up the steps toward the loft bedroom. Quinn’s hand grazed my ankle toward the last step, and a worried shout fell from my lips before I got up and out of his reach again. I heard him mumble a, ‘Damnit.’ But he hadn’t anticipated my immediate halt, and our bodies collided. He held onto me tightly, assuring myself and himself that I wouldn’t fall.
“Finally.” Quinn smirked, and I began to laugh when his lips found my neck. “Stop that,” he whispered against my skin.
“A little ticklish I guess.” I whispered, surprised by his actions once again when I heard the zipper of my dress being undone. He was good at this. I rested my hands against Quinn’s chest and slowly pushed him back. My dress looked much looser with the zipper undone, but it was the last thing I was worried about. I reached for the buttons on Quinn’s shirt, making quick work of them and pulling the white dress shirt out from his pants. I was too focused to notice the way he was staring at me until my gaze flickered up to meet his own. I had just begun to slip the shirt from his shoulders when I took note of the look in his eyes.
“What?” I paused my movements, my hands resting on the edges of his shoulders.
“Nothin’. You just look so beautiful.” I nodded and silently continued to push his shirt off.
“Take me to bed, Hughes.” I gave in, a gasp leaving my lips when he hoisted me up by my hips and walked me over to the bed. He was gentle when he set me down, and even gentler when he laid me out, leaning over me and kissing me once again.
“You got it, beautiful.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾��✾❀✾❀✾
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nucifraga · 4 months
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so... who was going to tell me that my estimates of the tma characters' ages was WAYYY off??
and i know jonny probably meant it to be that way so that there'd be leeway for creative interpretation of the characters and all, but my brain wants them pinned down. so. here's a mini-list/research rant of my favs. presently the list consists of:
Jonathan Sims
Martin Blackwood
Sasha James
Timothy Stoker
Mike Crew !
Oliver Banks
Michael Shelley
Gerard Keay
Three disclaimers – (i) The TMA timeline is a trainwreck. Many assumptions have been made. At least half of them are probably wrong (especially where University is used as an age marker) and also my maths ability sucks because I haven’t done maths in two years, so where there are glaring issues, so feel free to correct me and I will edit accordingly :’) (ii) This is by no means definite. See above. Honestly, attempting to decipher them feels like trying to understand the Spiral. But I’m doing it anyway, because as both a fanfic writer and an academic, I want to at least try. (iii) SPOILER WARNING!! SO MANY SPOILERS! I think the only seaosn that isn't spoiled is maybeeee S5 ???
With that, let's go! [Ages are approximate & as-of 2016 / S1]
Jonathan Sims Age: 28 Birth year: 1987-1988 There seems to be a general consensus on this one. MAG81 appears to be one of the key clues here – ‘Jon says that he was about 8 during the events of the statement and that it happened a year or two after Leitner's library ended, which was in 1994. So he's born around 1987-88.’ [source: reddit]Of note is the fact that he lied about his age and pretended to be older, which is hilarious, and leads me to believe that he’s the youngest of the Archives crew – or at least, near there.
Martin Blackwood Age: 28-ish Birth year: 1988 Has worked for the Institute since at least 2009. He’s lied about having a Master’s in parapsychology, so is likely old enough to feasibly be able to have one. As all institute staff have to at least have a Master’s in something archive-related (iirc), all of them must hence be at least 22/23, assuming the Master’s courses are 1 year long. Jonny has, however, stated that Martin is either a bit older or a bit younger than Jon, and I’m tempted to believe it’s the former (see above).
Sasha James Age: 28-34, 30-ish? Birth year: 1981-1987 There’s like, nothing on Sasha. I’m assuming she’s at least older than Jon, because that might be why he began faking his age. The only possible marker would be that Sasha’s worked in Artefact Storage (for 3 months), Research (for longer, I assume) and long enough in Archives to be considered as Gertrude’s likely successor. So, definitely more qualified, and also older than Jon.
Timothy Stoker Age: 30-ish Birth year: 1986? Tim has a degree in Anthropology from Trinity College (I assume this to be Oxbridge, rather than Ireland or something, since he resides in London), and spent 5 years working at a publishing firm. This puts him at 26 (18+3+5) in 2013 when Danny was taken. As he says he began working for the Institute shortly after, I would assume that this is when he stopped working for the firm. I’ve added a bit of buffer because nobody’s birthdays are given, ever, and also there might have been a bit of time between leaving university and joining the firm and/or leaving the firm and finding the Institute. So – 30.
Okay that’s the core staff, onto my other favs.
Michael 'Mike' Crew Age: 37-ish Birth year: ~1979 My #1 avatar! I did a double-take after I worked out his entire timeline, but here’s the highlights: He was a uni student during late 1997-early 1998 when he went looking for Ex Altiora in Lion Books. I’m assuming he was a first year, because generally uni students stay in the sameish area for the whole course and I don’t see him missing out on an opportunity to Leitner-hunt just because the store was in a slightly out-of-the-way part of town. So! This puts his birthdate at around 1979-1980.
Oliver Banks Age: 28-ish Birth year: ~1987 Oliver Banks’ timeline during & post-Uni makes NO SENSE. Fortunately, we do know that he moved to London around 2005 to do his undergraduate degree at the London School of Economics. Which puts him at around 18 in 2005, and his birth year can be worked out from there. Quick rant about Oliver’s timeline: Oliver is working at Barclays by 2007, and he was recruited after graduating. Which means he both began and subsequently completed his undergraduate degree between 2005 and 2007. That’s literally impossible for a standard 3 year course. Plus, by around 2007, he’s been working for nearly a year at Barclays, so he started in 2006… so apparently he began his degree and completed it in under a year, since the academic year starts in September??
Michael Shelley / Michael the Distortion Age: 31 / 49 / early 50s (but canonically 92 at all points in the timeline) Birth year: ??? I didn’t do the research on this one, so here’s my source because I don’t think there’s any more I can add.This mess is truly Spiral-worthy, which could have been intended, but also may just be the TMA timeline wonkiness at work. There’s also been some speculation that he was hired at even younger than 18, but equally it’s possible that he was hired older, which puts his age squarely into the [I don’t have a fucking clue] range.
Gerard Keay Age: technically 32 Birth year: ~1984 Gerry was born in the 80s, and given that the above source states he was in his ‘late teens’ in 2002, this tracks. Making the assumption that he’s 18 in 2002, I’m going to place his birth year at around 1984. However, he died in 2014 (I’m assuming late-2014, given that he had time to encounter Leitner in London & travel a bit with Gertrude before his death) in the USA, putting him at around 30 at the age of his death. Since he’s dead, he doesn’t really age, but he is ‘aware’ enough to be in existential pain so I’m going to go with Descartes on this one and say he’s ‘alive’ enough to continue counting his years of existence. Poor guy. Doesn’t even get to actually die til August 2017 either.
Part 2 ft. the 4 Grandpas of the Apocalypse here
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lipglossanon · 3 months
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Am I Your One and Only Desire?
°•°———— ⚜️ ————°•°
Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (finale)
part i - An Open Invitation (To A Perfect Domination)
part ii - What You Do To Me (No One Knows)
part iii - I’m Not A Bad Man I’m Just Overwhelmed
Hello, hello 👋
Welcome to the finale of OG stepdad! I’m wrapping up these mini stories before moving on to new things! That’s not to say I won’t ever write for him again, but for now his “storyline” is complete.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, stepdad Leon, daddy kink, spit kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie
Title from Always by Saliva
°•°———— ⚜️ ————°•°
Your parents have been fighting for weeks now. Well, your mom and Leon. You’ve been busy with class work and trying to get an internship for the summer so it’s been just something happening in the background. But now, it seems your mom has issued her final ultimatum. 
“If you don’t come with me on this work trip, we’re through !”
You pause in the hallway, guiltily eavesdropping on their argument. Your mom practically shouted the last two words before an uncomfortable quiet settled in the aftermath. 
“Then I guess we’re through,” Leon’s dry tone makes your heart skip a beat. 
You hear a door slam in their room making you jump in place. Taking that as your cue to leave, you walk further down the hall and open your own bedroom door and step inside  at the same time someone comes out of the master. 
“Guess you heard that, hmm?” Leon gives you a tired smile, hair sticking up at odd angles like he’s been running his hands through it. 
Biting your bottom lip, you nod, “Does that mean you’re leaving?”
“Sooner or later,” he shrugs, walking until he’s in your doorway. 
His blue eyes narrow as they search your face, “Was thinking of moving closer to the city, already found a couple of places not far from work.”
You try to hide it, but you know he sees when your shoulders tense. He steps further into your room and closes the door. 
“Not ideal is it?” He pulls you into a hug, surprising you so much you forget to wrap your arms around him for a split second. 
“I’m gonna miss you,” you whisper into his chest, feeling as he squeezes you closer to him. 
He rubs your back for a moment before pulling you away. You sniffle and quickly wipe your eyes with the heels of your palm. 
“I won’t leave without saying goodbye,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead then the corners of each eye before pressing a soft, kiss to your lips. 
Leaving you with emotional whiplash, Leon turns and exits your room, shutting the door behind him. You listen as his footsteps fade away before flopping down onto your bed, tears gathering in your eyes. 
It seems rather silly to be so upset since it’s actually better news for you if they divorce. But now the doubt is starting to creep in, make you think that without being in Leon’s space that he’ll forget about you. Leave you behind along with your mom. You’re not in love with him, but you do like him a lot. 
He has shown you how empty your life was before he moved into it. Your mom is constantly traveling for work and your dad lives in another state and doesn’t really reach out to you unless it’s a holiday. Leon’s taken care of you in a way no one else has before and you hate that it’s being taken away. 
The sex is great, but it’s nice coming home and hanging out with him while making fun of whatever reality show he’s watching. Or the times he takes you out to grab coffee before heading to your favorite bookstore. He never presses for anything during those times even if you try to initiate. He always kisses you on the forehead with the promise he’s perfectly satisfied. More tears slip from your eyes as you lay in bed.  
For the rest of the night, you listen as your mom and Leon quietly argue amongst themselves with your mom yelling every now and then. When you wake up the next morning and go downstairs, you notice a lot of the little things that belong to Leon are gone, even his vehicle is gone from its usual parked spot outside the garage making you sad. 
Greeting your mom softly as you walk in the kitchen, she watches as you fix yourself a cup of tea. 
“He’s gone,” she bites out, anger still tinging her words. 
You turn and face her head on while the kettle heats up.
“I heard you two arguing last night,” you bite your lip, feeling off having this conversation with her, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” her shoulders roll back as she sighs, “I’m honestly just angry. We haven’t been getting along for months and I’m just done. He’s moved out and the papers are being filed today.”
“Oh,” your voice comes out steadier than you thought, “that’s kinda fast, right?”
Your mom laughs without any humor and turns to dump the rest of her drink down the sink, “It’s been a long time coming.”
The kettle goes off giving you the opportunity to turn away from her and busy yourself as she continues to talk to you. 
“I’m also going to be gone this weekend, another work conference,” she blows out a breath, “I’m actually running behind right now, but I wanted to see you before I left.”
You nod as you steep your tea, “Thanks.”
“Leon said he’d be by to finish packing up his office and to turn over his key to you,” her phone goes off, pulling your attention back to her when she answers. 
“Hang on— alright, I’m out of here, sweetie,” she smiles at you, “don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’ll see you on Monday!”
With that, she breezes out of the kitchen and into the garage. You stand there, bare feet shifting on the cool kitchen floor as your tea cup steams on the counter while you listen to her drive off. The quiet settles on you heavily as you gaze unseeingly at your drink. 
You settle on the couch with your tea and mindlessly watch the news. Glancing at the time, you wonder what time Leon will actually be by to grab his stuff. You’ll be home all weekend so it’s not like you’ll miss him once he shows up. Heart fluttering, you sigh out loud. You hate waiting like this, nerves always getting the better of you. 
The jingling of keys wakes you with a start, not realizing you dozed off. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you raise up in time to see Leon stepping into the living room. You offer him a small smile. 
“Hi.”
His jaw feathers before he sighs. 
“Hey,” he clears his throat, “is your mom here?”
Feeling disappointment, you shake your head, “She left this morning, said you’d be by to grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” he trails off, eyes tracking down your body before skirting back up to your face, “wanna help me finish packing?”
Shrugging, you stand up from the couch, “Sure.”
He nods and turns, heading upstairs towards the master bedroom. Once upstairs, he holds his arm out to let you step into the room first. After he steps in behind you, he crowds your space until the back of your knees bump against the edge of the bed. 
“Gonna let me say goodbye?” He grins, fingers skating up your thigh to cup your pussy, “I’m going to miss more than your cute face, sweetheart.”
Arousal thrums in your veins and you nod eagerly, “Please.”
While he kisses you, he eases your body down onto the bed, hands running up your sides to grope your breasts through your flimsy tee shirt. He groans into your mouth as your nipples stiffen against his fingertips. Pulling away, he strips your clothes off until you're lying completely nude. 
“So sexy,” he murmurs, kissing you again as he lies on his side next to you, propping himself up on one arm while the other draws circles across your abdomen. 
“Want me to play with your cute pussy, sweetheart?” He nips at your jawline before biting your neck, “want daddy to tease that pudgy little clit til you’re soaking the sheets?”
“Yes, please, daddy,” you gasp as he sucks and bites the skin underneath your jaw. 
The hand on your abdomen glides down to run his fingers across your dripping slit. You whine as he finally teases across your clit with slow swipes of his fingertips. 
“So wet already,” he places kisses down your throat, “want my fingers in your needy pussy?”
”Uh huh,” you rock your hips trying to get him to press against your swollen bud more.
Without any warning, he plunges two fingers deep in your leaking hole, fluttering against the front of your cunt to rub against the spongy spot that makes you clamp down on the digits. He roughly fucks his fingers in and out of your pussy until you’re whining nonstop.
“Do you see this?” He growls in your ear, middle and ring fingers buried deep in your cunt while his thumb rubs circles on your clit. 
Your bleary eyes look down your naked body to watch as he scissors his fingers in your soaked hole. 
“This is my cute little pussy, sweetheart,” he bites your earlobe and you moan loudly. 
“Yeah, s’all yours,” you whine, fingers digging into his biceps. 
“Want me to give her some kisses?” He whispers, fucking his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy, letting the heel of his palm softly smack against your pudgy bud. 
“Oh, please,” you keen, eyelashes fluttering as he kisses your neck, “kiss my pussy.”
He groans and slips his fingers away before kissing a wet trail down to your breasts. Teasing each of your nipples with his teeth, he sucks the stiff buds until your back arches. With a chuckle, he continues to kiss his way down your stomach to the apex of your thighs. Sighing, he kisses the hood of your clit. 
“So sweet,” he rumbles low in his throat, “such a good girl.”
His pouty lips kiss your pudgy clit over and over, drooling a line of spit down onto your bud before running his tongue through your pussy lips to lap at your dripping hole. With a moan, your legs fall open further. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, dark blue eyes watching you from between your thighs, “such a sweet cunt.”
“Ohhh,” you whimper, hands tangling in Leon’s hair as he goes back down on you, tongue fluttering against your clit before sucking it into his hot mouth. He bites down gently and it sends an electric spark buzzing through your brain. 
“Please, feels so good,” you whine high in your throat. 
Groaning, he humps the mattress while he grinds his face against your cunt, tongue licking into your pussy eagerly. He rubs his nose across your clit as his tongue slides in and out of your slick hole, humming as you gush across his tongue with every slow thrust of the muscle. It doesn’t take much for him to make you forget everything except his mouth on your pussy.
The band of arousal in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter as he makes out with your pussy with sloppy enthusiasm. Spit and slick coats your inner thighs to the point it drips down your ass onto the sheets underneath.  His hands, which were resting gently on your hips, move down to the bends of your knees and hike your legs up over his shoulders. With the new angle, it feels like his tongue fucks into you even deeper, teeth pressing against your cunt in a way that has you rolling your hips against his face. 
Hearing the wet noises of his mouth on your cunt makes your nipples tighten and ache, leading you to bring your own hands up to cup your breasts to tweak the stiff peaks. 
“Mmm, yeah, play with those cute tits, baby,” he growls, moving up to suck on your clit softly, “pinch those puffy little nipples til it hurts.”
“Yesss,” you sigh, eyes fluttering as you pluck at your hard nipples with your index and thumb before rolling them between your fingers, “w’nna cum, please daddy.”
He sits back on his haunches and unbuttons his slacks, pulling them along with his underwear down to free his cock. A sigh of relief slips from him as he squeezes his thick cock. 
“Want you cumming on daddy’s dick, sweetheart,” he grins down at you, “stuff that little cunt til you’re nice and full.” 
“Oh fuck,” you mewl, hands moving forward to grasp at the air in front of him, “please, need you so bad, ‘m so empty, daddy.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, quickly undressing all the way and crawling back on top of you, boxing you in with his nude body.
His cock drags a sticky trail of precum up your thighs until the head rests below your belly button, cum pooling on your skin as his fat leaks and drips. Kissing you heatedly, he sucks your tongue before biting your bottom lip and pulling away. 
He braces his weight on one forearm as his other hand slips down between your bodies to grip the base of his cock. Slapping the tip against your pudgy clit, you whine as he rubs his cock through your soaked folds, smearing slick everywhere. 
He presses down further and lets his head dip in and out of your clenching heat until you’re rocking up into the motion, tempting him to just push inside your cunt. 
“Please, please, need it, need you to fuck me,” you whine, nails digging into his shoulders. 
“How can I say no to that?” He smirks, finally notching the head of his dick at your leaking hole. 
With a low groan, he thrusts forward, sliding inch by inch into your pussy until he bottoms out as your walls pulse and squeeze around his fat cock. 
“Oh that’s it, good girl, squeezing me so good,” he coos in your ear as he settles more of his weight down onto your body. 
“Daddy, daddy, please,” you choke out, legs wrapping around his waist, arching your body so he can fuck into you even deeper.
He pulls out and thrusts his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out again, heavy balls pressing against your ass. Your nails score a hot trail down his chest as he presses you down into the bed.
“Always such a perfect fit,” he moans, humping into your pussy faster, “little cunt made for my dick.”
Mouth dropping open to pull in gasping breaths as Leon fucks you deep, you rock your hips into his, “Feels good, Leon. Wanna cum for you.”
With a low rumbling groan in his throat, he grinds his dick across your g-spot until slick drips down his balls. You reach up to tangle your hands into his hair as he slowly ruts his cock halfway out of your pussy and slowly works it back inside your fluttering walls.
“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight, sweetheart,” he kisses the shell of your ear, “want daddy to breed your greedy hole?”
”Yes, yes,” you gasp, hips writhing, “breed my pussy, need it so bad.”
He chuckles and starts to rock more roughly against you, moving his lips to yours and licking into your mouth, tongue slipping inside to tease across your own.
“My good girl,” he says between kisses, “gonna miss you, baby.”
Your heart thuds painfully in your chest, pussy pulsing and gripping his cock tightly as you eagerly kiss him back. 
“I’m g’nna miss you, too,” you whimper between sloppy kisses, “gonna miss you, miss this.”
He leans back with a dark look in his eyes, “Yeah? Show me, open that slutty mouth of yours.”
Eyelashes fluttering, you loll your tongue out and whine loudly when he spits in your mouth. He smirks down at you and leans closer to spit straight into the back of your throat. After doing it a few more times, he moves back.
“Swallow.”
Your body shivers as you do as he says, mewling as he rocks his hips down, pelvis catching on your clit just right while his balls smack against your ass on every thrust. 
“I’m getting close,” you moan brokenly.
He picks up the pace, cock pistoning in and out of your pussy creating sloppy wet sounds that makes you clench down on him. 
“Squeeze me so I can breed this pretty pussy of yours, sweetheart. Let daddy fill you up,” he nips your bottom lip with a grin.
Clit throbbing with every brush of his pelvis, you squeeze down on his cock tighter and tighter as he grinds against your g-spot. Your legs tighten around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax overtakes your body. Thrashing and moaning, your pussy walls clench and flutter around his thick cock as your eyes roll back in your head.
”Fuck, gonna make me cum, such a good girl,” Leon huffs with a groan, “that’s it, let me breed this sweet cunt.”
A cut off moan interrupts his rambling. You feel as his cock throbs and kicks when he spills a hot load of cum deep in your cunt, pussy walls milking every drop from his heavy balls. 
“So good,” he pants, sloppily kissing your neck as he softly thrusts in your clenching heat, “your little pussy was made for this.”
You can only whine out nonsense as he pumps rope after rope of thick sticky cum in your fluttering hole, pelvis smacking against your clit and sending little shockwaves of overstimulation throughout your body. He finally pulls out with a groan, half hard cock shooting out another spurt of cum to coat your puffy mound and clit. With a moan, he rubs the thick jizz into your skin, smearing it until your slit’s sticky. 
He lays down next to you on the bed and you roll over to face him. 
“Got you all to myself this weekend too, huh?” He chuckles, “I’ll make sure to be out of here by Sunday if you’re good with that.”
Cunt pulsing at the thought of Leon staying with you all weekend, you nod, “Yeah, I’m good.”
Needless to say, Leon fucked you on every surface possible over the weekend. Starting in the master bedroom on Friday evening and finally ending on Sunday with a facial on the desk in his office. In between, you have some small talk about where he’s going to live as you pack up what little stuff of his still in the house. Neither of you talk about what this means for you both now that he’s your mom’s ex. When evening rolls around, he finally packs up his car as you stand outside the garage watching him organizing the trunk. Once he shuts it, the thud reverberates in your chest making you oddly misty eyed.
He steps up to you, ushering you into the garage so no nosy neighbors can see as he kisses you. 
“You have my number right?”
You nod, clearing your throat, “Yeah.”
He grins, “Good, text me later and we’ll meet up so I can show you my new place. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but it’s not far from your college.”
Your heartbeat ramps up making you feel giddy, “Really? I’d love to visit.”
A pink flush spreads out across his cheekbones, “It’s a date, then.”
Smiling brightly at him, you push up on your tiptoes to kiss him again.
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t0rturedangel · 1 year
Note
Can we PLSS get more of creek x child reader ?? I loved it smm it’s literally my life support 💕😭‼️
╭ ☆ ➛ Creek x child ! reader Ꞌꞌ : The little craig
━ warnings / notes ; this is kinda rushed since i had a very limited amount time to post this, pacing is bad too <33 also ngl south park did post covid craig so dirty 😭 maybe ooc
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" Honey ! " TWEEK mumbled as he called out for his husband, twitching slightly- something that has stayed with him even as he grew up. A head poked out from the kitchen and a voice spoke " Yes ? " " Uhm [ name's ] head teacher just called and- " " - and what ? " CRAIG asked, walking over- stretching and smiling when he heard the satisfying pops. The pair had been together since fourth grade, of courses with some in and out moments where they kept fighting of small petty things, breaking up then getting back together, it was a re-used cycle honestly, the last time they did repeat it was back in high school. Now the two of them are happily married with a little child they call their own.
" They want us to come to their office, [ name's ] in trouble " tweek sweat dropped, slightly concerned as to why their little angelic child got in trouble for the first time ever " Why do you think they are?- did they get into a fight??? did they- " " Baby- its okay, lets just go and we'll find out " Craig comforted his husband, ruffling tweek's hair and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek this did actually seem to calm tweek down letting him nod " Yeah- lets go "
Through out the ride Craig was making up excuses and apologies in his head- he knew exactly why you were in trouble and in hindsight he didn't want Tweek to why you were. It'd be the end of him if tweek did and while craig was mentally panicking- Tweek was physically panicking, all different scenarios running through his head- if you did get into a fight then you (and the child who fought you) would be in so much trouble he swore to god. Getting to the school didnt take long either, the pair rushed into the main office and were taken to the head master's office.
Entering, they saw you- who was giving the head master a little glare, your arms tucked together- and your headmaster who was staring at the two who came in, extremely serious " Mr and . . . Mr Tucker " They began " Please take the seat " Tweek sat down on the only spare chair next to you while craig stood behind you " What happened? " Tweek began " Your child- [ name ] had- " " - had what !? " Tweek's panic rose again only to be shushed by the headteacher, a glare was sent their way by you and craig " Your child has been- flipping children off for all of break time " .
Silence.
" [ name ] ! " the head teacher's voice raised as you flipped them off for the umpteenth time " Stop flipping me off ! " " No! Fuck you ! I only flipped them off because they insulted me! " Craig was so dead. " [ name ] stop that. " Tweek spoke calmly, causing you to shut up instantly and craig to start inwardly crying. " Thank you for letting me know- i'll talk with them " Nodding at the head, the three of you left.
When the three of you were in the car, you and your dad waited for tweek to blow up- but fortunately or unfortunately- he didnt, only staring at the two of you, " [ name ]- honey, good job on standing up for yourself, but you're not getting your iPad for a week " an ashamed frown was quickly relpaced with a sweet smile , happy you got off without getting in too much trouble where as your other dad wasnt as lucky " Craig- i'll be talking with you at home about teaching our little kid to flip people off " " Tweek- babe- I just wanted [ name ] to be like a mini me- a mini craig ! " he tried to defend himself.
" Thats not going to save you " " hahahaha ! Daddy's going to get it now ! "
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 11 months
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Someone posted this on Insta ( can’t remember 😭) but this is so me 😭😂
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Oh my, that’s too perfect 🤣🤭💞!! I couldn’t resist not imagening and then writing this… HAPPY PRIDE BTW 🏳️‍🌈
‘I love MILFS’ shirt… Drabble ~Gwen’s characters xFem!Reader
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Gwendoline Christie’s characters reactions to Fem!Reader wearing the “I ♥️ MILFS” shirt… I did Larissa, Lucifer, Miranda, & Brienne for this one 😉
Mommy…Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, kissing, implied smut
Enjoy (;
Larissa Weems
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It’s finally a peaceful Saturday, for just you and Larissa, your mini Larissa had been graciously taken by Marilyn for the day.
You wake up before the blonde, allowing her to sleep in.
You impromptu decide to make her breakfast in bed.
And you giddily snag the shirt from your closet as a little ✨extra✨ surprise…
But your plan falls flat, as Larissa heard you rustling in the closet.
She walks into the kitchen, nearly scaring you half to death.
“Well this is a nice surprise, darling…” Larissa husks in her early morning voice.
You haven’t turned around for her to see your shirt yet…
You finally dramatically sigh and turn around.
“Well I was planning to give you breakfast in bed…” you dramatically huffed.
But Larissa doesn’t respond.
Her eyes are glued to your shirt.
“Something the matter, baby?” You say with a smirk.
Larissa chuckled and rolls her eyes at your antics, then walking over to you, without a single word, and she scoops you up.
“I think I will indeed be having breakfast in bed…” she husks in your ear.
Her lips connect to yours passionately, and you hum with delight into the kiss.
She carries you to her bedroom, where the two of you spend your whole day off.
Lucifer Morningstar
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You had found the shirt on one of your trips to earth.
It had made you smirk, and you were curious as to what Luci would have to say about it…
So naturally, you took it back with you.
You entered Luci’s great throne room, wearing the shirt.
“Hey Luci, I’m back…” you hummed towards the blonde, who was standing by the window, dazing out into their domain.
The Lightbringer doesn’t look back when they recognize your presence with a hum.
“I brought something back this time…” you probe the blonde fallen angels curiosity.
At this, the Lightbringer turned their gaze toward you, and their brows furrow.
“And what is that…? It doesn’t suit you very well, does it, little one…”
“It’s a shirt.” You smugly say.
Luci rolls their eyes playfully at your humor.
“No I mean, what is a milf…?” They clarify.
She’d fallen right into your trap…
“It’s you!” You chirped, your eyes glimmering coyly.
“Hmmm ok…” Luci stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, contemplating whether to open this can of worms.
They decided not to.
“I will see you at dinner, little one?” She redirected.
“Yep.” You chirped yet again.
You were being far too chipper for Lucifer’s taste…
At that, you left.
And Mazikeen soon entered the throne room, stifling a giggle.
“And what, pray you, is so humorous?” The Lightbringer sneered.
“Nothing master. Only Y/N’s shirt…” Mazikeen mumbled.
At this, Luci’s senses pricked up and their head swiveled to the demon.
“What about the shirt?!” They demanded.
“I just never imagined that you’d allow her to wear something like that…” Mazikeen spoke.
Now Lucifer was really confused.
“Something like what??!”
“MILF… Master, do you know what that stands for…?”
“No…” they grumbled.
“Ohhhh…” Mazikeen whimpered.
“It stands for Mother I’d Love to Fuck…”
Luci’s eyes widened, their jaw dropping.
Oh, you were so fucked…
Miranda Hilmarson
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You’d put on the shirt at night as you prepared for bed.
As you grabbed your nightly tea, Miranda walked into the kitchen.
Once her eyes set on your shirt, She immediately looked away and blushed furiously.
“Like what you see…?” You teased, taking a sip of your hot tea.
Miranda gulped and finally looked up, meeting your gaze.
“I’m not a milf…” she insecurely whispered.
Your heart cracked at her tone of insecurity…
You set your tea down and made your way over to the blonde, opening you arms to her.
She gladly accepted, immediately nuzzling into your frame.
Once you’d hugged her for a good solid five minutes, you pulled your face out to meet hers.
“Well I’d love to fuck you anyday…” you purred.
At your words, Miranda blushed even more, a small tear escaping her eyes.
“Thanks, babe…” she whispered with a cracked voice.
“And you certainly will be a MILF once I fuck my cum so deep into you, we defy the laws of the universe, and your belly starts to swell with my baby…”
At this, Miranda’s jaw dropped.
“Would you like that…?” You teased the stunned blonde.
All Miranda could do was nod, vigorously, her eyes lighting up at the possibility…
Brienne of Tarth
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Brienne had immediately noticed your shirt when the party had set off at daybreak.
It was a long journey ahead, and it was itching her to ask you what your shirt meant.
“Y/N…” Brienne spoke in her gentler tone.
“Hmmm, yes my lady…?”
Brienne always caught a slight blush when you of all people called her my lady…
“I was wondering, what does that word on your chest mean?”
“Oh, OhHhhH…” you chocked out, almost embarrassed to have to explain this to the woman you’d been crushing on ever since you’d crossed paths with her.
“Are you alright, Y/N…?” Brienne asked, her tone laced with immediate concern.
“Yes yes! I’m fine, thank you.” You took a deep breath.
“It means Mother I’d Like to Fuck…” you basically whispered.
It took Brienne a second, but one was she got it, she got it.
Brienne mouthed a knowing Ohhhhhh as her eyes widened.
Your smiled lightly and then quickly looked away again.
God, were you hopelessly in love with the innocent, blonde haired woman…
~~~
Lucifer Morningstar Masterlist
Miranda Hilmarson Masterlist
Larissa Weems Masterlist
Brienne of Tarth Masterlist ~Coming Soon (:
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