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rotworld · 3 months ago

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17: Perfect Fit

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

the ivarii are complex plant-like aliens that require hosts for mobility and proper sustenance. humans haven't been as eager as they'd hoped to share their bodies, so significant stipends are offered to encourage greater cooperation. you sit in a waiting room, considering how desperate and adventurous you really are.

->original work. basically explicit; contains dub-con, parasites, body horror, discussion of medical procedures.

MEET YOUR NEW ROOMMATE, says the pamphlet in a bold, friendly font with rounded edges. Under the text, a woman with a dazzling smile holds a polaroid-sized image beside her face. It’s eerie blue monochrome-on-black like a medical scan, smears and swirls of soft tissue of a human face in profile. Strings of something firmer thread up the spinal column and into the brain, a forking starburst like a giant dendrite. LIVING TOGETHER IS EASIER THAN YOU THINK, it claims with a curling arrow urging you to turn the page.

You glance around the waiting room nervously. It’s soothing like a therapist’s office, deliberate and almost cloying; speckled gray carpet, baby blue walls, a small collection of cushioned chairs and sofas arranged in not-too-close, not-too-far clusters. Landscape photos of shrub-speckled Martian canyons and clouds drifting over Europan oceans hang on the walls in wooden frames. A circular speaker on a coffee table plays wind sounds and birdsong at a whispering volume. There’s no one here but you and the receptionist who tears open a package of white, powdery Nutrisweet mix to pour into her coffee mug. When she lifts it to her lips, something in her neck twitches and squirms slightly.

The pamphlet opens into a four-page spread of bright colors, bullet point fun facts and upbeat testimonials. The “ROOMMATE OF THE YEAR” section says implantation is PERFECT whether you want company or like your space. One bedroom, one bathroom? NO PROBLEM! An ivarius only takes up as much space as you do. No need to drastically change your eating habits when you can just supplement your beverage of choice with NUTRIENT-RICH FERTILIZER MIX (and with so many flavors to choose from, it goes with EVERYTHING)! Did you know that ivarii can achieve PERFECT SYMBIOSIS with any sufficiently advanced, terrestrial lifeform? You have a FRIEND FOR LIFE when you sign up for implantation—

A door opens and a man calls your name. He’s wearing mossy green scrubs with the Office of Cooperation’s looping flower and stem crest stitched onto the shirt pocket. You must look ready to bolt because he gives you a wry smile like he gets it and comes to you instead, sinking into the chair beside yours. “Nervous?” he asks. “That’s pretty normal.”

You nod, staring at the back cover of the pamphlet. A man holds one of the medical scan pictures over his heart. Thin tendrils loop through his ribs and infest his organs. “Do you, uh…” You glance at him sheepishly. “Do you have…?”

“Yes. I can show you, if you want.” He waits until you nod reluctantly to unwrap what you thought was a bandage around his wrist, a length of thin, gauze-like material with a yellowish sap stain seeping through. There’s a small bump growing out of his skin—the earliest, sproutling stages of a flower bud. The sepals are flesh-colored, overlapping flaps of thin, vein-filled skin. It’ll bloom on top of his wrist like a corsage.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Not at all.”

“And that’s…I mean, is that typical? I’ve seen some people who bloom from their spine, or their eye…”

“It’s up to you,” he says. “From the very start, it’s up to you. If either one of you decides it isn’t going to work, then nothing happens. Symbiosis takes two.”

That’s the slogan for the Cooperation Initiative. “Symbiosis Takes Two,” pasted on billboards and subway tunnels with smiling people tenderly holding vine-covered flower pots like they’re newborn babies. The brochure stand at the waiting room door has every possible approach covered: the humanitarian, the scientific, the pragmatic. Help a species in need; contribute to ongoing research; never worry about money again.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Okay. I’ll try.”

The matchmaking rooms line either side of a long, quiet hallway. Each door has a small electronic screen beside it with a schedule displayed. You find yours at the very end, a time slot for your meeting grayed out. There’s a vertical line down the middle. Your name is on the left; the name “Sifril” is on the right. The door is open. Like the waiting room, the decor is purposefully unobtrusive and calming with muted colors and soft surfaces. The curtains are sheer to let in some natural light. Two armchairs sit facing each other on a floral rug, a round wooden table between them.

On the table, there’s a slim black speaker next to a strange vase. It’s not glass or ceramic but a shimmery material with a moving surface like foam drifting across water. Long vines spill out from the top and slink down the sides, tapping and poking at the table in searching, licking motions. A thick cluster of tangled stems and leafy growths sticks straight up, covered in alien flowers with colorful, curling tendrils atop spotted petals. Each blossom turns towards the door when you walk in, quivering slightly.

“Oh, hello!”

You look up in surprise. You were so distracted by the sight of an ivarius that you didn’t even notice one of the chairs was occupied. It’s a man—young, clean-shaven, a short, choppy haircut and a bright smile. He’s wearing a sweater with brown and beige stripes, long sleeves covering most of his hands. His jeans are rolled up to his ankles and his socks have little mushrooms on them. You know what the door says, but you start backing up to check the time table again.

“Oh, hey, no, come back!” he says, laughing. “You’re Sifril’s match, right? You’re in the right place. I’m here because your case is sort of special. Here, why don’t you get comfortable?” Reluctantly, you sit down across from him. He offers a reassuring smile. “I’m Andrei,” he says, placing a hand on his chest. “My co-inhabitor is Olanash. It’s nice to meet you.” He gives you his full attention, his eye contact intense and unwavering. “How much do you know about ivarii?”

“A little,” you say, sheepish. “I read the pamphlets.”

“Why did you decide to apply?”

You avert your gaze. “Well, I’m…I saw a poster that said, uh…”

Andrei leans over suddenly like he’s about to grab your hand. He stops halfway there, blinking like he’s just as surprised as you. “Sorry,” he says, settling back in his seat. “Force of habit. You’re giving off distress hormones and…look, I’m not trying to shame you. I signed up because I needed the money, too. But there are lots of ways to make money. This is a lifelong commitment and it takes a lot of trust. What I’m asking is why this, instead of something else? Is there anything else about it that appeals to you?”

You look down at the vase and the ivarius coiled inside of it. “I like the idea of never being alone,” you admit. “I was still on the fence about it, but then I got matched with Sifril and we talked back and forth a bit, and…” Now you’re wondering about that. How, exactly, does an ivarius message someone? Do they dictate to someone else? You really hope not. Your face heats at the thought of anyone else seeing those messages.

Andrei chuckles. “And now you’re here. Sifril’s definitely a smooth-talker, huh? That’s three for three now.”

“Three for three?” you ask, wary.

“Right, we need to talk about that. Do you want to say it, Sifril, or should I?”

A warbling, bassy sound flutters from the speaker on the table. You flinch when you hear a very clear, very human-sounding, “Go ahead, Andrei.” That definitely sounded like a person, but you struggle to identify pitch or tone, masculine or feminine, any particular cadence or lilt. That doesn’t make sense, unless you’re not really hearing a voice at all but something your brain interprets as one. “My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you,” you hear. It seems to echo, like you’re hearing it in a big, empty room.

“Sifril?” you ask.

“Yes,” says the voice. The ivarius in the vase rustles their leaves. “It’s wonderful to finally be in the same room. You’re even lovelier in person.”

“Can you see me?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

The speaker rumbles. The sound isn’t loud but it makes your ears tingle. “Hm. In a way. My senses aren’t the same as yours, but I know you’re there and I know you are lovely.”

“Sifril,” Andrei says, chiding. “Stop teasing them. You can tell they’re embarrassed.”

“I can tell no such thing,” Sifril says. For the first time, the voice has a distinctive feature you can identify: a purr of flirtation.

“You mentioned that you read the pamphlets?” Andrei smiles when you nod. “So you’ve seen the whole ‘roommate’ thing. It’s a useful comparison, but not wholly accurate. Symbiosis is very…intimate. Ivarii love their hosts.” He reaches out, holding his hand over the vase. Sifril’s vines move in slow motion, a shaky upward crawl, until they touch skin. Suddenly they become graceful, curling around Andrei’s wrist and palm. When he spreads his fingers, they thread through the space between and wrap around them in grasping, undulating motions that look distinctly sensual. You feel flustered when Andrei glances up and sees you staring intently, even more when he winks. “They love one another, too. It’s not uncommon for them to pursue courtship and even mate while co-inhabiting.”

“Mate? Like…” You’re sure you’re not imagining it. Andrei’s smile and wandering, half-lidded gaze are definitely showing interest. “While they’re…?”

“So shy,” Sifril says, their flowers swaying.

“Yes,” Andrei says, clearly amused. “While they’re inside us. Sharing sensory information means everything is a shared experience, including attraction and sex. They call that a ‘rebal pair’ when a human and co-inhabitor mate with another human and co-inhabitor. In Sifril’s case, though, they mated before being assigned a host. Their mate, on the other hand, got one sooner.” You glance between Andrei and the vines caressing his hand. Andrei sees you put the pieces together and smiles. “Yes. Olanash is Sifril’s mate. So whoever becomes Sifril’s host will be my partner, and together, we’ll be a rebal pair.”

None of the promotional material ever mentioned something like this. You’re not sure what to think. “That seems tough,” you say. “So all three of you have to agree on the same partner.”

“We’re in agreement right now,” Sifril purrs.

“I know it’s a lot,” Andrei assures you. “And you don’t have to decide right now. We’re supposed to have at least two more meetings to really get a good feel for each other. If you have any questions, I’d be more than happy to answer them.” You nod, not quite meeting his eyes. “Is there something specific you’re worried about?”

“Well…kind of the whole thing,” you admit. You watch Sifril’s vines uncoil from Andrei’s hand. They move like snakes, flexible and slippery as they sprawl across the table again. You can’t help but notice they’ve all gathered on the side closest to you, curled into grasping spirals. “What does it feel like?”

Andrei considers the question for a moment with a thoughtful frown. Then he smiles again, wide and serene. “Comforting,” he says. “You just know somebody else is there, even if they’re not moving. And when they do move around, it’s like…someone touching you. You feel it on your skin. Like a gentle tap, or a caress.”

“And the surgery, is that, um…”

His eyes light up. “Oh, I can tell you exactly what that’s like. Here.” He gets up and gestures for you to stand next to him. You hesitate for a moment before you follow and he beams at you. Sifril’s flowers lean forward in the vase. “First of all, they knock you out. You won’t feel anything. Second…” Andrei slips behind you, a hand landing on your shoulder when you start trying to turn around. “There are several possible methods of implantation,” he tells you. He’s standing way too close, practically pressed against your back. He speaks softly, close to your ear. “One is through the chest. The first incision is made here.” He touches his fingertips to your sternum and slowly, suggestively, slides his hand down the center of your body. “Alllllllll the way down,” he murmurs. “Some of them like to anchor to the ribs. Some don’t. You’d talk that over with Sifril beforehand.”

“The ribs,” Sifril muses. “I would like to feel your ribs. To fill them.”

“Another option is here.” Andrei’s fingers brush against the underside of your jaw in a soft caress. His thumb strokes the side of your neck. He chuckles at your slight shudder. “The neck,” he says, almost whispering. “It’s a really popular spot. Tight. Sensitive. Much closer to the brain. I’ve heard it feels good.” His palms smooth up and down your back, squeezing your shoulders. “Another option. From behind. Olanash and I picked this one. I can feel them right there all the time. Their warmth. The weight of their presence. Like they’re holding me.” His hands slide down your sides and then there’s no space between you anymore. Andrei’s hips rest against your ass and you can feel that he’s hard through his jeans.

You’re frozen, completely unprepared. Is this allowed? Are they supposed to do this?

Andrei’s lips graze the shell of your ear. “No matter what,” he says, “they end up here.” He presses two fingers to the nape of your neck. “All the way up. And all the way in.” He rocks his hips gently, grinding against you. His hand slides higher and he digs his fingers into your scalp. “And that feels so, so good. It’s hard to explain, because you don’t feel it exactly. But you feel what they feel, surrounded by you. And you know they’re there. Squirming…and slithering…like they’re fucking your brain.”

“Olanash told you to say that,” Sifril says, playfully accusing. “They like that sort of thing.”

Andrei chuckles. Emboldened by the little gasps you let out, he holds your hips tighter and starts grinding harder and faster. “So do you,” he says. “I know you whisper all the same filth. I can hear you both when you’re mating.” He pulls you against him, urging you to grind back and enjoy the friction. You let out a shaky breath when he kisses your neck. “It’s kind of exciting to think about, right?” he whispers. “Having someone where you’re most vulnerable. Fucking all the thoughts out of your head. I wish I could show you. Sifril could give you a taste, if you let them. It’s not quite the same as if they were implanted, but it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

Andrei moans when you start to move with him, pushing back into his humping thrusts. He rewards you with wandering hands and more hungry kisses, his fingers teasing your nipples through your shirt with light pinches and circular motions. His tongue traces the shell of your ear and he licks and nips at it, his hot breath making you shiver. Heats throbs between your legs and you want more than this frantic teasing.

Then it all stops. Andrei suddenly lets go of you, stepping back and leaving you shuddering in the middle of the room. You hear him casually sink back into his chair like he didn’t just try to make you cum in pants. He’s smiling when you look back at him, an elbow on the armrest, cheek resting against his fist.

“But you’ve probably got more questions, right? Don’t let me distract you if there’s more you wnat to ask.” he says. He sits with his legs spread, one hand tapping his thigh in a way that looks teasing. Inviting. He’s moved his chair slightly closer to the table and Sifril’s vase. You think about just how far you saw Sifril’s vines spread. If you sat there, you would be caught between both of them. Easily within reach. “You can ask me anything,” Andrei says, licking his lips. “Anything at all.”

The speaker shudders and rumbles. “You can do more than ask,” Sifril purrs.

This stops when you want it to. You can leave whenever you want. You can tell them you’ve changed your mind, that you’re calling the whole thing off. You can walk out of here and never come back. You have time, you tell yourself. Two whole meetings more before you have to choose. “When, um…” You swallow hard. They wait patiently, both of them—all three, you think—watching you intently. “When am I going to meet Olanash?”

Andrei’s smile widens when you take a timid step closer. He spreads his legs a little wider, leaving plenty of room for you on his lap. “If you want,” he says, “how about right now?”

#rotpeach writes #original #goretober

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julieee404 · 3 months ago

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Kinktober day twelve

Taking advantage of the situation

❥ Non con, Deepthroathing, Dedegration ❥ Tom Riddle

POV: You absolutely despised Tom Riddle. He made your life a living hell, loving to fuck with you. One day you were walking through the halls late at night when everything turned black. When you opened your eyes you were tied to the foot of the bed on your knees and completely naked.

Trigger warnings: Swear words, Non-consensual sex, Deepthroating, unprotected sex, P in V, Blood, Gore, Murder, Kidnapping.

I returned from the library after doing another one of my late-night studying sessions. At night when the castle is at its quietest is the time I can concentrate the best.

While I was thinking about the day's events I suddenly felt something hard against the back of my mind before everything grew black.

My head pounded, and I couldn't move my arms or legs. I opened my eyes to see I was in a room I didn't recognise so it must have been the room of requirement.

My legs were tied to the bed behind me and my arms were tied together on my back with a rope attaching them to the bed as well. The rope rubbed my skin painfully, already leaving scratches.

"Ah she's finally awake" I looked up at the voice to see Cormac, a Gryffindor in my year standing before me in just his underwear. I cringed away from him, he was a really gross boy.

"Let me go" I hissed angrily. He just laughed "Of course not, I haven't even played with you yet." My eyes widened as he approached me and I screamed loudly.

Hoping someone would hear me and help me out. Someone did, but just to my luck that someone was Tom Riddle.

The door opened and in walked the daunting figure of the tall Slytherin. Cormac faltered but kept a brave facade on his face. "Nothing to see here man, just my girl and I having a good time."

I quickly tried to protest but he kicked me making me groan but shut up. Tom raised an eyebrow "She sure looks like she's having fun," he said in his normally cold and emotionless tone.

Tom walked closer to us, "I couldn't care less if you need to kidnap a girl to get a good fuck." He said to Cormac.

Then his eyes turned darker, and his voice took on a dark underlying tone. "But you made one little mistake, 'man," he said, using Cormac's own words.

"You kidnapped my girl." That confused me but before I could think about it, Tom had already raised his wand at Cormac and said 'Sectumsempra'. A bloody cure that would cause its victim a painful and bloody death since they slowly bled to death and all their organs would fail.

I let out a loud scream and tried to get back away from the blood that was now starting to pool around his body. Tom looked at me but didn't move closer yet.

"Thank you" I said softly hoping he would free me quickly so I could try to forget about all of this. He stayed silent before a devilish grin overtook his face "Don't thank me yet princess."

I paled significantly and flinched back as he approached me slowly. "You're sitting there so ready, like a little fucking slut." He said harshly, my eyes widened "What no Tom no" I said trying to get free.

Tom stopped in front of me and pulled his cock from his trousers. It was huge, almost inhuman, thick and long. I looked up at him in fear. He spoke, "I'd be a shame not to take advantage of this."

I shook my head no looking up at him pleadingly. He gripped my chin harshly "Open up slut." When I didn't he squeezed my jaw until I had no other choice but to open up.

He smirked down at me and pushed his cock into my mouth quickly. The tip hit the back of my throat and I gagged around him. Tom however didn't pull out, he kept his cock there triggering my gag system.

I started to writhe trying to get away. Finally, he pulled out letting me breathe. I coughed violently and glared up at him. He pushed his cock back into my mouth and then took my head between his hands and started slamming into my mouth, bruising the back of my throat.

There was nothing I could do except take it, Tom had all control and he was using me like I was his own personal sex toy. The tip of his cock slammed into the back of my throat painfully hard over and over again.

Tears were leaking down my face, and saliva was dripping down my chin and there was nothing I could do to stop this. "Suck a fucking slut for me, gonna cum and you're gonna swallow understand?" He demanded.

His pace sped up more and he released in my mouth, his cum painting my throat white.

He pulled his cock out until only his tip was in my mouth, and then he pinched my nose closed, making it impossible for me to breathe properly, forcing me to swallow his cum

After I swallowed it he pulled out of my mouth and let go of my nose, allowing me to breathe again.

With a flick of his wand, the rope around my ankles disappeared and the rope holding my wrists to the bed disappeared as well.

However, before I could run he pushed me onto the bed on my stomach and with another flick of his wand my legs were spread wide. rope connecting my ankles to the bedframe and my wrists were still tight behind my back.

He tsked "You're not wet little slut" He said with a scowl, "Guess I'm gonna have to go in dry."

My eyes widened and I started to struggle "No no no no no you can't, you'll tear me apart please please don't do that." He spat on my pussylips "Shut it slut."

He used his own spit to lube up his cock and then positioned it over me. Since I was on my stomach I couldn't see anything. He started to push in and I got overwhelmed by the painful burning sensation.

I screamed loudly, but he paid no mind to it, continuing to push inside. He bottomed out "Such a tight little whore."

He set a quick and punishing pace, and the burning sensation kept not lessening making me cry softly and scream as he continued his assault.

I don't know if it were my screams or crying but Tom stroked my hair "Shh it'll feel better soon." The softness of his voice surprised me, and I'm still sure he used a lubing spell because the burning made way for pleasure.

I let out little moans in between my sobs "That's it little slut enjoy it" He said the mean edge that was in his voice now completely gone.

After a while I came from all of the sensations and my orgasm was so hard that it made me pass out.

Since I passed out I didn't notice Tom coming inside of me, before pulling out and flicking his wand making all of the rope disappear and get me dressed in comfortable clothing. Nor that he cleaned up Cormac's body and blood.

I also missed him bringing me back to my dorm and hesitating before giving my temple a kiss, which seemed to surprise him. "I'm the only one who gets to hurt you." He said before leaving.

I woke up the next morning sore and a bit fuzzy about last night's events.

Kinktober masterlist 2024

#kinktober #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys #smut #slytherin boys x reader #slytherinboys #hp smut #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut

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safe-from-sharp-teeth · 7 months ago

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Ayo! I haven't answered asks in FOREVER, so it's time for some spring cleaning :) Also answering other stuff, like what I've been up to.

If you sent an ask and it's not here, sorry! I may have deleted it because the prompt required too much work of me and I wasn't feeling it, or I was uncomfortable.

Let's gooooo !

Firstly - where have I been? Work REALLY picked up in a way I wasn't expecting over the last...4 months? I was working double and often triple the hours I was used to. With work, vacations, random illnesses, and many video games I got a bit too obsessed with, this blog took a backseat. Plus, sometimes I get disinterested in vore when obsessed with something else. Sometimes, that lasts months, and it did this time.

But now I can confirm that work will FINALLY chill for a long period of time. I'm free! And more motivated than ever! Wahoo! Thanks for your support ALWAYS.

Next big question - when am I going to do more of my story? The one with Asyr? AHHHHHGHHGHH this story has consumed my life. I think about it daily. I dream about it. And yet I'm not as comfortable writing as I am drawing, so writing is a slow process that my perfectionist ass struggles with. I can assure you that there is a story in the works - and I am working on it at a snail's pace.

Okay, ask time...

@ponyluvesonic09 AYO maybe I'll make a full ghost pred pros/con list for you, because that sounds awesome! Kir//by is one of the silliest canon preds out there. Honestly getting eaten by him would be like getting vored by a vacuum, LOL. Galaxy tummy!! Imagine a prey floating around in one of those item bubbles all grumpy. Thank u for the ask, this is good stuff.

no. ( /・・)ノ

UWAGHHHHH I LIKE HER!!! Never played O/verwat/ch but what a gem!! I have a random fondness for centaur-like preds nowadays. She looks so cozy. THANK U I LOVE HER!!!

@tiger9o0 I have not played r//ain w//orld or know what it's about, LOL. Looks like a platformer? Man, I'm terrrriiiiibblleee at those. But whoever this is on the cover, I LIKE EM. A+. (That might not answer ur question shdjbghkjg SORRY)

@heimkoheimkofan LOVE THAT I GOT THE ROBOT ENJOYERS AFTER THAT ONE POST....YES yall are so right and I'm so wrong for just hard metal robot tums. I will rectify my mistake soon I PROMISE. Also oh! You were the one asking about stomachs other than elemental ones! IVE HAD THAT IN MY DRAFTS FOREVER IM SORRY AHHHH. I REALLY love your imagination with tums and you've inspired me to think of some awesome environments! THANKS

@fastfur07 BWAH?? Ugh I'm all over the place when it comes to art. Some pieces take 30 min (like the zangooc I drew at the top of this post), most take 2 days. Some really hard drawings like my wolf bat creechur from a few months ago and my shrimp from last year took a month. THANK U??

We're going back so far that I think this is about my naga oc (which I'm in the midst of redesigning cough cough). For him, he would never tolerate being prey, extremely unwilling bahaha. In general, I haven't thought much about naga or snake prey! I get the appeal of slurping up a noodle, but I just prefer human prey :)

@fastfur07 you fiend, you always give me the best drawing ideas. UNFORTUNATELY, I didn't have time to draw something for this one. BUTTTT....

(i've had this next one in my drafts for forever)

then i had a silly comic. I'll post the wip here because I won't finish it, so enjoy bahaha.

@blizzaria123-blog THANK U im rapidly melting into a puddle from ur words

@mrpotatomanversionsix relevant. i will continue drawing them 4 u

?!??!!??!?!??!?!?!??!?!? how dare u enter my ask box with this blasphemy

@sfwsillynoms WAH!!! you!!! I'm currently redesigning my naga oc but when I finish I'll tag you, if you're still around! And he can 100% be drawn with ur preysona :)

@mystorl i am SO late to this, but SMART. I like it. I shall give my lil guy this friend. I just want to let u know that I see this and it's wonderful and I will do something abt it.

I remember this ask made me laugh a ton when I first got it. thank u. idk why I find this so funny

@sillylilprey IM CRYING RIGHT BACK AHHHH this is an ancient ask, but thank u! hope you're still enjoying!

@terrytheinsane finally, the last ask in my askbox. I love it. You have been wronged with how long it took me to answer you. I have gained knowledge from your ask. THANKS

AND THAT'S IT!! Thanks guys, I hope to make you proud! Feel free to send more asks, and hopefully I will answer in a TIMELY manner.

Goodnight! And remember: Nice Vore ᕕ༼⌐■-■༽ᕗ

#zan asks #phew that was an essay #tldr im a lot more free now aaaanddd I shall answer asks in a more timely manner from now on #and i say thank u a lot #i appreciate and read EVERY ask #zan art #zangooc

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forsakenwitchery · 2 months ago

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Decided to throw together all my cosplays/сщыеуыеы of witches throughout the years since it's Halloween and it's pretty likely I haven't posted some of those 'cause I generally suck at posting things😹

Yen on the 2nd pic: @darklydreaming108

Morgana was one of the first cosplays I did a whooping ten years ago, and I feel like I should really... Well, reshoot her, at least. xD Looking at the photos now, I see a baby version of myself and it's so weird. & Wanda has been my go-to cosplay for a few years for some time, almost sad to look at her now that... MCU is where it is.

At least the dagger has been with me all these years through all of my cosplays requiring (or not) a dagger. xD

My cosplay tags:

Photos, gifs, videos from costests/cos shoots/cons

Inprogresses (costumes, 3d printing etc)

#triss merigold #yennefer of vengerberg #wanda maximoff #sabrina spellman #cornelia hale #morgana pendragon #cosplay #cosplay photos and videos #witcher 3 cosplay #w.i.t.c.h.#mcu cosplay #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos cosplay

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sarahowritesostucky · 9 months ago

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📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 8

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omorashi

Summary: Bucky Barnes is young, confused, and conflicted - a real "rebel without a cause" type. His parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Wait! I haven't read an earlier part of this fic! Story Masterlist

I've gotten a couple of asks about the worldbuilding behind this fic. If you'd like to read a little more context about how things are in this world, my answers to the asks can be found here and here

If you'd like to be on my taglist, please use this form (it's easy I promise!)

Part 8

"Extended Suppressant Use in the Omega Patient: a literature review" (Mueller et al. 2019)

The bathroom incident does not give Steve high hopes of an easy first week with Barnes. Many new students wind up requiring extra attention in their early days at the school, so Steve is honestly surprised when he isn’t paged that Tuesday with a similar fiasco. He’s outright impressed when Wednesday and then most of Thursday passes by with no incidents, either. Whatever Sharon’s doing, it must be working well.

Steve can’t say he doesn’t think about the boy regardless. He can’t help but remember their encounter in the bathroom; holding him down and dominating him into submission, pressing on his belly until he finally lost control. The sounds of the boy’s sweet whimpers are burned into Steve’s memory, the earthy and lightly floral hints of his scent still so easy to draw up in his mind. It’s a good thing that this is a busy week for Steve, otherwise he’d hate to think of how much more preoccupied he’d be by thoughts of his new omega charge.

As it is, his schedule is chock full, his time eaten up with all of his normal headmaster duties (which are considerable), seeing through the end stages of the Academy’s formal division between the girls’ and boys’ sides, and a renovation that they’ve got going on in the south wing corridor. All of that, coupled with the small squabbles that Peggy manages to come up with on an almost daily basis, helps to keep Steve’s mind occupied. And on top of everything, there’s still a lot to be done for the upcoming parents’ weekend.

He spends most of that Thursday morning dealing with matters directly related to the event that is, in essence, their biggest fundraiser of the year. All day, he's coordinating with his faculty; making sure that everything’s been ordered, scheduled, and arranged just how it needs to be to give the right impression to their guests, provide the right experience.

It’s crucial that all of the right people be well taken care of over the three day weekend, in order to ensure that their endowments to the school keep flowing in. Steve liaises with his staff over the details of the family picnic, the various assemblies and presentations that will be made, the planned activities for each afternoon and dinners that’ll be hosted each evening, and—perhaps most important of all—the formal presentation ball that caps off the weekend of festivities. This year they’re having a few ice sculptures flown in from Edinburgh. Silly in Steve's view, but a classic touch of extravagance that the guests will appreciate.

European nobility, old-money aristocrats, and even some high profile celebrities have been known to show up to the school’s annual matchmaking ball, always seeking amenable, traditional omega mates for themselves. And when your guest lists regularly include names like Vanderbilt, Kennedy, and Stark, good first impressions become very expensive and very necessary. Last term, a Greek shipping heir worth billions had scooped up one of the graduating class’ students, and once news of that had gotten around, enrollment for the next semester skyrocketed.

Steve takes great pride in the academic education provided by his school, but he’s also a realist: He knows that parents place high value on the promise of even a chance for their offspring to be so suitably matched. That, along with the behavioral outcomes the school is known for achieving, is a big reason why many families elect to send their sons to Carter Academy over other, similar schools on the continent.

With so much to get done, Steve doesn’t get around to eating his lunch that day until well into the afternoon. He eats alone at his desk—a decision that has very little to do with the fact that he can monitor the school’s video surveillance system from his desktop computer. It’s not because he wants to check up on Bucky and hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kid since Monday. Nope, not at all. Steve always uses the camera system to check in on the happenings around campus, it’s nothing new. And it’s good practice, anyway. A headmaster needs to be involved in his school for it to run smoothly.

If Bucky’s seventh period class is gym, and the gymnasium is the first area Steve decides to check, well that’s just happenstance.

He logs into the system and scrolls through the long list of camera views. He has the most heavily trafficked areas bookmarked, but there are hundreds to choose from, every inch of the Academy’s buildings and grounds monitored by the StarkTec cameras.

Carter Academy has its own dedicated security team to keep an eye on things, of course. Rollins and his men do a very good job of making sure the close to three hundred hormonal teenage boys that the school houses stay in line. Every year there are inevitably fights, students caught in each other’s bedrooms at the wrong hours for the wrong reasons, or a few runaways who gravely underestimate the distance and terrain between Carter Academy and the nearest town. Nothing that isn’t always quickly remedied, but parents appreciate the close eye that Steve and the rest of his administration are able to keep on their children at all hours of the day.

He navigates to the camera views of the gymnasium and sports complex. The majority of students get scheduled for some sort of physical activity at the end of each school day. Exercise is important for omega bodies, and the gym period is thus positioned after all academic lessons have concluded, to allow for the running off of excess energy. It’s a time when their Handlers can take their well-deserved breaks. With only Mr. Odinson and the other Phys-ed staff looking after so many boys, gym period can get quite chaotic, and it predictably takes Steve a few moments to locate Bucky in the throng.

Eventually he sees him: loitering off to one side of the indoor soccer field, half heartedly kicking a ball back and forth with the Parker boy. He’s changed into his gym uniform, though he hardly seems to be exerting himself. Rather, he’s in deep conversation with Parker, which Steve is happy to see. Every first year student coming into Carter Academy usually struggles at first, but it’s always a good sign when they make friends quickly. Parker, who can normally be found bouncing off the complex’s obstacle courses, seems to have dialed it down a notch to hang out with Bucky, the two of them talking animatedly between themselves. Steve even catches Bucky smiling a time or two, which lifts his hopes that the kid will assimilate well into his new routine. Perhaps this won’t be as hard as he’d imagined.

“Sir?”

He flicks off the monitor when his secretary knocks at the door. “Yes?”

“Ms. Carter here to see you, Sir.”

Sharon comes in, and the two of them hold their pre-planned meeting about Barnes’ first days on campus and how Sharon has assessed his needs so far. Barnes is attitudinal, but Sharon seems to be amused by him, more than anything else. She hands over her recommendations for protocol, telling Steve that she’s not sure a male handler wouldn’t be in the boy’s best interest.

“Oh?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he’s perusing her checkmarks along the list. “Why do you say that?”

“You’ve seen what a handful he can be,” Sharon drawls. “Not that I don’t think I can handle him, but he responds more submissively to the male staff, and I think he’s primarily same-sex oriented.”

“You think?” Bucky’s transcripts from his old school had noted that he was equally as promiscuous with boys as he was with girls.

“Yes. And after Monday’s bathroom incident, I think he might do better with a man.” At the mention of ‘the bathroom incident’, Sharon fixes him with a meaningful look. “He responded well with you.”

Steve nods, flipping through the assessment packet. “Yes, well I am the headmaster. They tend to kowtow faster to me.” He tries to think of which male Handlers he has available at the moment. Typically, he doesn't over-prioritize students’ attractions when placing them with a Handler, as romantic attachment is something to be avoided at all costs, but if it’s a behavioral issue that can be corrected with something as simple as the gender of an assigned Handler, then Steve will consider it. “Thank you Sharon,” he tells her, once they’ve wrapped up the meeting. “It sounds like he’s doing alright, so I’ll keep him with you for now.”

“You’re the boss.”

“Alas, yes.” Steve sighs and so does Sharon, mocking him in a friendly sort of way. When she heaves a genuinely heavy inhale and declares that she has to 'get back to the grind', Barnes’ seventh period is almost over, Steve steps in. “Why don't I take him off your hands for the evening?” he suggests. Sharon looks pleased, but not overly surprised, her knowing smirk making Steve feel the need to defend himself, “It’s been a few days now, I should check in with him.”

“Sure.”

Steve frowns at her continued smug expression. “He’s got an appointment with the doc I need to escort him to, anyways.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Sharon is still smirking when she bids him farewell, leaving the office to take the rest of her day off.

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes. Whatever. He’s not giving Bucky any more attention than he’d give any other troubled new student. He grabs the boy’s folder and rolls out from his desk, planning to head for the gymnasium complex and intercept him there.

… If he checks his reflection in the little mirror by the door on his way out, it’s only because he always does that and it's habit at this point. It’s the professional thing to do, to make sure one looks put together before heading back out in public. Certainly it doesn’t have anything to do with how he’s heading out to deal with Barnes. That’s just happenstance.

Seeing Bucky again after several days is refreshing, and seeing him being friendly with another student brings a literal smile to Steve’s face. This is a good sign. It bodes well for how Bucky will do adapting to his new life.

Peter Parker can be hyperactive and spirited, but he’s a sweet boy at heart with a solid head on his shoulders and a brain between his ears that he actually chooses to use more often than not. He’s done well in the Academy’s program, and he’ll be an excellent person for Bucky to attach himself to during his time here. Steve stands by the gymnasium door with a delighted smirk on his face, because he really couldn’t have chosen better himself.

The boys still have a few minutes left to their gym period when Steve gets there, so he leaves them to their uninspired soccer ball kicking and goes to touch base with Odinson in the athletic director’s office. Thor is all smiles and has nothing negative to say about any of the boys, as per usual, and Steve thanks him and tells him to make a note that perhaps Barnes could be encouraged to put a little more effort in and try out the parkour courses or the rock walls with Parker, moving forward.

He intercepts Bucky just as he’s coming out of the locker rooms. His hair is curling at the edges after having showered (amusing—the boy was barely exerting himself) and changed back into his regular uniform. The relaxed expression falls right off of his face when he sees Steve standing there. “Oh,” he says, coming up short. “You.”

Steve smiles indulgently. “Yes, I’m afraid. Me.”

“Hey Bucky I’ll see you at dinner maybe?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says distractedly, eyes still on Steve. “Sounds good.”

Parker heads off with his handler—Natasha, Steve notes, one of the very best and most dominant females he keeps on staff. "Making friends?" Steve asks.

Bucky ignores the question. “Why’re you here?” he asks mulishly, as Steve begins escorting him in the direction of the medical office. “Where’s Sharon?”

“Sharon’s taking a well-deserved break,” Steve drawls. "She and I had a progress meeting about you in my office, just now.”

Bucky gets tightlipped then and doesn’t say anything, but Steve can see the wheels and cogs turning in his head as he wonders what was said about him. “She had mostly good or neutral things to report,” Steve offers, figuring the boy could use some reassurance. “But of course, I already knew from our interaction on Monday that you're having some difficulties adapting to school protocol.”

Bucky scowls at the floor as they walk. “Just because I don’t like pissing in front of people every day,” he grumbles. “At least we get some privacy to shit around here. Go figure.”

Steve laughs, then decides to strike the fear of God into the boy by remarking, “Oh, that’s a privilege that can be stripped away, too, if needed,” as they approach the end of the hall where the medical offices are. Bucky’s eyes shoot up to him, wide as saucers, and Steve snickers. “Yeah, I know. A true case of a ‘this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you’ punishment, that’s for certain.”

Bucky all but ‘meeps!’ and Steve snickers and puts a hand on his back to guide him into the office. “Appointment for James Barnes,” he tells the receptionist, who immediately starts checking the computer screen.

Bucky turns on Steve, leery, as he gets a look at their surroundings. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

Steve ignores him until he’s gotten the go ahead from the receptionist and is guiding Bucky back towards one of the exam areas. “Just a check up. Standard practice for incoming students.” He pushes Bucky into the curtained off area and draws the curtain around to Bucky’s squawks of protest.

“What?! I don’t need to see anybody. I’m totally healthy.”

“That’s the goal. But we need to get you checked out, make sure there’s nothing that needs addressed.” Bucky opens his mouth to complain again, but Steve beats him to the chase, bending to pick him up by the waist and depositing his protesting butt onto the exam table. “Sit.”

“Hey!” Bucky’s scowling, but Steve doesn’t miss the light flush in his face at having been manhandled and reminded of his size and comparative weakness in the face of an alpha like Steve. He doesn’t try to get off the table at least, only shifting in annoyance and making the paper cover crinkle under his butt. “Could’a done it myself,” he grumbles.

Steve shakes his head fondly. “We need to get you examined. Behave, or I’ll have no problem with disciplining you while you’re under my care." Bucky goes tight-lipped at that. Steve nods in satisfaction. "Good."

“When’s Sharon coming back?”

“I told you: she’s been given a well-deserved night off. You’re with me until bedtime, young lady.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head. What might’ve been considered affectionate a generation ago, now elicits only indignation and pushback. It’s sad. “Just behave for the doctor, will you?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but when the nurse arrives and introduces herself, he’s generally obedient as she runs through his medical history with him. He speaks more quietly when answering the questions about his sexual health, but Steve doesn't get the sense that he's lying—only that he doesn't want Steve to overhear. (Steve still hears everything, including the boy's very reluctant answer of having had "thirty something" past sexual partners).

Far from evoking displeasure, it mostly just makes Steve sad for the boy. Omegas may have very high sex drives, but they don't fare well in promiscuous situations. Bucky's lack of a reliable partner is probably one of the major contributors to his present mental health issues.

Steve remains quiet and allows Bucky his illusion of privacy on the other side of the curtained off area. The nurse listens to Bucky's heart and lungs, charts his blood pressure and other vitals, and takes a blood draw. It isn’t until she hands him a privacy sheet and tells him to undress below the waist that he kicks up a fuss. “What?"

“The doctor will be right in to do the pelvic exam.”

“What? No. Why?!”

Used to tantrums, the nurse completely disregards him and looks to Steve. “Headmaster?”

“I’ve got him.” The nurse nods and leaves, and Bucky starts to move to try and get off the exam table. Steve rolls his eyes and goes over and pushes him back into place. “Not so fast, son. Now if you can’t behave we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

“What’s the hard way?”

“Strapped face down on a bench,” he tells him, no-nonsense (though really, that's the easier way for omegas. He just knows Bucky will fight it more). “And that'll earn you a guaranteed spanking in my office, after.”

Bucky growls an angry little omega growl at him, “Why do I have to do this? What’s the friggin’ point?!”

With his hands clamped on Bucky’s shoulders, Steve bends down and gets in his face. “Because you were popping suppressants for two years, Honey. That stuff can cause all sorts of problems.”

“No it can’t!”

Steve ignores him and gives him a warning look to keep him in place. He reaches down and pulls one of the exam table’s metal stirrups out, which makes the kid even more visibly upset.

When Steve reaches under the skirt of his uniform to get his underwear down, Bucky growls and tries to kick him, nearly kneeing him right in the nose. Oh. That does it. Steve gives up on playing nice, standing up and grabbing him, using one hand to scruff him while he wraps the other around his waist. “Okay, bud. That was your one chance. If you’re gonna be difficult, we’ll do it your way. Let’s go.”

“Nngh! Lemme go!”

“Calm down, Honey. Stop fighting, it’s not going to work.”

The kid whimpers and goes limp for a few seconds from the endorphins of the scruff, but still wiggles in Steve’s arms once he’s manhandled him into the next exam room over—where there’s an exam bench quite similar in function to a traditional spanking bench. Bucky balks when he sees it. “No! Wait!” It takes laughably little effort to get the boy face down on the bench. Steve gets him strapped to it, and by the time he’s removing his underwear and securing his ankles, all the fight has left Bucky and he’s begging instead. “Please, Mr. Rogers. I’m really sorry.”

Steve grabs the room’s extra chair and pulls it over to sit by his head. “I know Buck. This won’t take long. Just try to relax.”

“Please lemme up. I’m sorry. I’ll go back. I’ll do it the other way, I will!”

“Can’t do that, Sweetheart. We need to check that everything’s alright and you’ve proven to me that you can’t be trusted to hold still.” He might’ve considered the request to go back and ‘do it the other way’, if he didn’t already know full well that the prone position is much more soothing for omegas to be in. “This’ll be better,” he promises. “It’ll help you stay relaxed. It feels nice to be strapped in like this, yeah?”

“But I don’t want tooo,” Bucky whines, not refuting Steve’s statement, and with less fight in him as he realizes that he’s been stripped of all control. “It’s embarrassing.”

Steve smiles sadly and pets his face. “It’s for your own good, Sweetheart. Something every omega has to do. The doctor’s just going to come in and use a tool to examine you and make sure everything’s alright. It’ll hardly take a minute.”

Bucky sniffles and turns his face into Steve’s hand, nuzzling his inner wrist and subconsciously seeking out the alpha’s scent for comfort. “Will it hurt?” he whispers.

Steve’s heart constricts—both at the question and the scenting behavior. “No, Honey. Of course not. Haven’t you ever had a reproductive health exam?” It’s supposed to be a standard part of healthcare after an omega’s first heat, but with only two beta parents in the home, Steve doesn’t know why he’s surprised. “It won’t hurt,” he reassures him. “Just relax down against the bench and be good from now on, and we won’t do a punishment spanking after, okay?”

“Really?” Bucky is clearly motivated by this promise, as he stops sniveling as much and nods when the doctor comes in. “Okay,” he says quietly, and Steve smiles and praises him,

“Good girl.”

The school’s doctor is a calm and friendly beta male, and though he doesn’t make any attempt to ascertain Bucky’s consent or opinion on what they’re doing there today, he does speak calmly to Bucky and talk him through each and every step of what happens, before it happens. Steve stays sitting right in front of Bucky the whole time, holding his hand and keeping his own wrist up by Bucky’s face so that the boy can continue to use his scent to self-soothe.

Bucky goes red in the face as soon as the doctor flips his uniform up and starts palpating and examining his genitals. Even though Bucky's almost certainly trying his absolute best not to get aroused, the faint scent of slick still hits the air after only a moment or two, and he cringes and whines in embarrassment. "Hngh ..."

“It’s okay,” Steve murmurs, trying to placate him with the words and a gentle rumble in his chest. “It’s completely normal to have a reaction. The doc's used to it. No big deal.” Frankly, for an omega to be touched between their legs and not become aroused would be cause for concern. They’re so sensitive down there that it’s to be virtually expected. But Steve can tell that this is little comfort to Bucky, who goes even redder in the face when the doctor hums in agreement and makes an additional comment about Bucky's arousal responses being healthy.

“I’m going to prep the speculum now,” he tells Bucky. “It’ll be cool and hard, but it won’t hurt you.”

Bucky whines in mortification, his eyes clenching shut. Steve shushes him and pets his hair, which he seems to like because he pushes into it and untenses somewhat. Steve knows the precise second that the speculum goes in though, because Bucky's eyes pop right back open and he makes a small, shocked sound of, “Oh!"

Steve cups his face and tries to keep his attention. “Hey, you’re doing so good,” he praises, swiping his thumb at the corner of the omega’s eye, right where an overwhelmed tear has broken out. “Doesn’t hurt, right?”

Bucky trembles and shakes his head. “N-no.” He whimpers when the doctor does something from behind, and then his eyes go a little unfocused. “Oh …” The next time he whines, it’s verging a little closer to a moan of pleasure than one of sheer worry. “Ohnn… nngh, just … mmm, s’weird.”

Steve tuts sympathetically, slightly aroused himself at seeing Bucky react this way. He clears his throat and tries to remain professional. “I know, Sweetheart, I know it’s a lot. Just hang in there for me.” He meets the doctor’s eyes from over Bucky’s back, shooting him an anxious look.

The doctor nods. “Everything seems fine, Headmaster Rogers. He’s just a little swollen.”

“Swollen?” Steve straightens, concerned. “Is it bad? He was on oral suppressants for about two years.”

The doctor smirks and shakes his head. “No, not that kind of swollen, Sir.”

“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders untense. "I see." He's maybe read a few too many medical journal articles since Bucky told him on Monday that he'd been on suppressants. "Good. That's ... good."

The doctor hums and looks back down, examining Bucky for another long moment before humming in approval and removing the speculum. Bucky’s back slumps and he makes another tiny noise—this time one of relief. “Is it over?”

The doctor pats his hip with an approving nod. “He’s a healthy boy. Nothing to indicate any lasting effects from the medication.” Over Bucky’s back, he meets Steve’s eyes again. “The risk for complications doesn’t go up very high until after the five year mark. We’ll wait on his bloodwork, but I expect it’ll all come back normal.”

“Oh, good.” Steve can’t help but be relieved. He’s definitely read too many articles, seen too many students come through the school's infirmary with much more serious side effects. “So no chance of infertility?”

“Very low,” the doctor reassures, even as Bucky makes a hurt little sound of concern over hearing that possibility. The doctor rolls his stool out from behind Bucky, pulling off his exam gloves and tossing them in the waste bin. “Nope. He looks perfectly normal, Headmaster, both inside and out. From the state of things I’d say he’s about midway through his cycle. So you can expect a heat within the next two weeks.”

Steve nods. “Yes, he reported as much. He's used an app for tracking on his phone.”

“Oh. Would you email that data?” The doctor is already standing and heading for the curtain that divides their little area from the rest of the room. “It’ll be good to have in his records.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, doc.”

“Of course.” At the edge of the exam area, he looks back at Steve. “Ahm … he’s fairly aroused right now.”

Steve smirks. “I know.”

“Right.” The doctor glances back at Bucky, then to Steve. “I can send one of the nurses in, if you have anywhere to be.”

Steve shakes his head and dismisses the man. “That’s alright. He’s mine for the evening. I’ll handle it.”

Reassured, the doctor nods and ducks out around the curtain. He’s barely gone for a second before Bucky’s shifting in place on the table. “Um, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve looks back down. Bucky is blinking at him, flustered and uncertain. Steve pats his shoulder. “You did really well, Bucky.” He stands up and goes behind him, over to the room’s glove dispenser. He pulls out one of the large sized nitrile gloves and pulls it on. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uhm. Okay.” Bucky can’t see him from his position, so he wiggles impatiently. “Can you help me to, erm, get off of here?”

“Hmm.” Steve walks over and sits on the doctor’s abandoned rolling stool. He rolls to Bucky’s side, popping into his field of vision and giving him a knowing look. “You sure you don’t want help with this first?” At ‘this’, he lets his gloved hand touch Bucky’s flank, edging closer to his exposed backside. He watches as the boy's eyes widen and his cheeks colors anew. “It’s okay to ask for help,” he reassures. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Bucky lies.

Steve arches an eyebrow. “You sure? Masturbation isn’t allowed. Did you remember that rule? You need to ask the staff if you need release.”

Bucky huffs angrily. “Why not? Why do we have to ask you guys? Why can’t we just—”

Steve taps his ass lightly, more to get his attention than anything else. “Submission, Honey. We’ve been over this already. That’s what everything here comes back to: learning to depend on somebody who can take care of you and give you what you need. You have strong sexual urges, and that’s okay. It’s completely natural. But you need to learn to turn to your alpha to get your needs met, otherwise they never fully will be.”

Bucky pouts. “You’re not my alpha.”

“That collar around your neck says different. And so does the paperwork your parents signed.” Bucky's face twists into a frustrated moue, stubborn little thing. Steve sighs. “Hey, I know you didn't choose this. I’m your official alpha right now, but one day you’ll find someone you actually want to be with, someone you want to marry and have a family with. All these rules you're learning are just to help you adopt healthy habits. So you can model correct relationship patterns.”

"I already do."

Steve snorts. "Honey, casually sleeping with 'thirty-something' people by your age is not a healthy relationship pattern."

"You just want us all to be lily white virgins."

Steve rolls his eyes as he rolls the stool farther back towards Bucky’s backside. "Certainly not. But hookup culture only serves irresponsible alphas and betas. It doesn't do anything to help you guys with your needs for bonding hormones."

"Another scientific study?" Bucky sneers.

"You got it." Steve looks down, a quick glance showing him what he already knew he’d find: a wet and swollen, little pink rim, clenching hard on nothing. He tuts sympathetically. "Oof. That looks painful."

“Hey, don’t … don’t look,” Bucky complains.

“Oh, hush.” Steve pats his butt—he really does have the sweetest little ass. “You’re very beautiful, Bucky. Every part of you is.”

That, right there, is Steve stepping over the line. Oh, he’s got no qualms about personally appreciating the form of an attractive young omega student, it’s only natural for him to find Bucky beautiful. What’s less appropriate is him commenting on it. Because, to be blunt, not every student in Steve’s care is traditionally attractive. Steve’s still responsible for helping them all equally, and thus it’s always been his policy to avoid complimenting students on their looks when possible. It avoids hurt feelings, subverts any competition between the students who are more naturally prone to jealousy over their shared Alpha headmaster.

But the words are out of his mouth before he can think better of it, and Bucky reacts obviously in the way that he flushes and squirms, instinctively pleased at being approved of in such a way. Steve decides that, since it’s just the two of them alone, he might as well let his guard down a little bit. Bucky’s shown a propensity for skewed thinking, after all, and he needs to be helped to form a positive self image. “You’ve got a lovely body, Buck. Even here.” At ‘here’, he lets his thumb dip a little further into his crack, not touching his hole, but pulling his cheek out enough to get a really good look at the sweet little clench of his rim. Steve hums appreciatively. “Just like the doc said: very healthy.”

Bucky whines and squirms. “Let me up.”

“I can do that. But you’re very wet, Honey.” Steve reaches down between Bucky's legs to glance fingers over his stiff little prick. “And hard.”

“Nnn.”

“You’re not going to have a very pleasant evening if I leave you like this. Are you sure you don’t want some relief?”

Bucky’s body stays tensed, his asshole blurting out more slick from Steve’s hand touching him even just that little bit. He seems to consider it as a real option for a moment, waffling over his decision, but eventually gets out a terse little, “No,” forcing himself to ignore what his body needs. “I don’t.”

“Really?”

“I don’t want you to do it,” he grits.

Steve sighs, not too surprised by that. Bucky’s still resentful of the one person who has complete authority over him. Steve'll probably be the last person he yields to. That’s the way it often goes with the bullheaded kids: they come around to their teachers first, Handlers second, and submit to Steve as their alpha last of all. It’s to be expected, but Steve can’t say he isn’t more disappointed than usual, in this case.

Because he isn't lying to the kid just to improve his self esteem: Bucky really is uncommonly beautiful. A handsome, small but strong boy who is exactly Steve’s preferred type when it comes to omegas. And his scent is … Well, all omegas smell lovely, but Bucky's scent is unusually fascinating.

Ever since that first day in Steve's office, when he'd submitted with such an easily provoked release, Steve’s wanted to get a better sense of him. This would have been the perfect chance to do that. Steve would’ve relished the chance to coax an orgasm out of him today, but if Bucky needs more time to truly relax into it, then he's willing to wait. Not like there won’t be plenty of opportunities in the future, once the boy's sexual urges have built up enough to have him eagerly submitting.

Steve closes his eyes and takes one last, indulgent inhale of that spiced, floral scent that’s only made stronger by the arousal. Viburnum, he realizes. That’s what it reminds him of. It clings to the edges of the earthy undertones of Bucky's scent, enhancing it to something truly alluring. Regretfully, Steve pats his hip and rolls away on the stool. “Okay,” he says, trying not to let the disappointment come through in his voice. “That’s alright, Sweetheart. I’ll have the nurse sent in to help you.”

“What? No.” Bucky twists his head in the restraints once again to look back at Steve where he’s removing the medical glove and standing up. His eyes widen when he sees the blue glove going into the waste bin, not having realized that Steve had donned it, having literally been prepared to finger him to orgasm. His mouth works helplessly for a moment, open and shut in a loss for words. “I don’t want anybody to do it.”

Steve walks back around in front of him and crouches down to his level, fixing him with a doubtful look. “Well that’s your choice, Honey. But you still won’t be allowed to touch yourself, you do realize that? If you change your mind after lights out tonight, then you’ll have to wait all the way until tomorrow morning to get a staff member to give you any relief.”

Bucky pretends to be unaffected, but Steve can see the brief flash of panic in the boy’s eyes at the prospect of going that much longer without an orgasm. “Fine,” he says, putting on a brave face. “I don’t care.”

Steve isn’t a fool. He knows that Bucky is almost certainly planning to break the rules and touch himself at the first available opportunity. Still, some lessons can’t be taught until mistakes are made and bad behavior corrected, so Steve nods and stands up to start unbuckling the bench’s restraints. “Okay, your choice, bud."

Bucky climbs off the bench once he’s able to, and Steve hands him his underwear to put on. His little prick is completely erect as he hurriedly pushes the uniform’s skirt back down, and he winces in discomfort as he pulls up the two layers of his underwear and gets them into place on his oversensitive body. “Ugh,” he huffs quietly. “Stupid.”

Steve chuckles, though he honestly feels more pity for the kid than anything. Bucky’s regret over having turned down an orgasm is so obvious it’s near palpable, his scent still rich with arousal. And just like Steve knows without a doubt that the back of the boy's underwear is already getting a wet spot, he also knows that he'll be checking the dormitory’s security feed later that night. With the level of certainty he has over Bucky’s plans to break the rules and touch himself, Steve figures he might as well start planning out what corrective measures they’ll inevitably be instituting as punishment.

“Come on,” he says, putting an arm around the kid’s shoulders and guiding him out of the room. “It’s dinner time. You must be getting hungry.”

Bucky says that he isn’t, but his stomach betrays him by growling loudly not two seconds after.

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup. Fic commissions reach out via Tumblr messenger or Kofi.

Event: @sebastianstanbingo Card: sarahowritesostucky Square O4: Floral Scents

@scottishrosefury, @not-that-syndrigast, @lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes

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millionsknives · 1 year ago

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yes, the plans that i could not share with you (because the haters would sabotage me) were that i was taking on LACC in my vash getup :)

i have so few pictures of myself but i got so many compliments (especially on my arm) and plenty of other people took pictures of me. and normally i don't like attention but i will be honest with u. under these circumstances i loved it. my arm held up really well through 8 hours on the convention floor and i have never been prouder of anything i've made. it's articulated incredibly well, no part of it gave out or required repair, it's never uncomfortable or a nuisance to wear, and i have enough range of motion to do relatively complex things like tying my shoes.

originally i was not planning to try to meet anyone famous because 1) it's expensive and 2) the lines are long and 3) i feel weird and annoying approaching literally anyone for any reason BUT. the spot where i met up with my sister just happened to be right next to johnny yong bosch's table. right when he started signing things. so i said LOL ok i'll do it.

it was super chill, i asked him how it felt to get the call that they wanted him to come back 20 years later for a trigun reboot and he said it almost didn't happen -- that since they recast everyone else for stampede they considered recasting vash as well (and i said WOW i'm so glad they didn't) and he said he really enjoyed getting to come back and explore a darker take (i forget if what he said was a darker take on vash's character, or just a darker trigun in general) but it was briefly surprising 2 me that he considered stampede to be a darker version but i get it, especially when u consider that there is not a lot of comedy in those 12 episodes to balance out the grief.

ANYWAY he was impressed with my arm and i asked him if he would sign my coat :) so he signed the lining but he was also like u know what, i'm gonna give you a second autograph just because. so he signed a print for me as well (free of charge!!) and the print with the blue signature matches my famous paintings that i always film in front of (that's providence baybee)

other stuff from the con under the cut

cosplay notes:

i saw 3 other vash cosplayers (a 98 vash, a stampede vash, and a purple coat vash) and no shade but i definitely had the best arm build. peace and love to all of them though

i saw 1 1/2 wolfwoods. 1 was the aforementioned mullet wolfwood from yesterday's post (ww if you’re out there ww) and the 1/2 was the 98 vash cosplayer’s gf in some kind of goth-ish dress and she was carrying a punisher

mullet wolfwood if you're out there i regret not getting a picture with you so much. i am deeply ashamed and i have no excuse because i ran into you twice and both times i was too embarrassed to ask for a picture. i just want you to know that your punisher was swag and your earrings were yolo and we would look very good together

i expected to see a lot more trigun tbh. los angeles where u at. 4 vashies at a convention of 120,000+ people is nothing. one guy even walked up to me like wow i love ur vash, i haven't seen a lot of trigun at this con and i was like I KNOW i thought i'd see a lot more

theeeee costume of all time award goes to the cad bane cosplayer i saw on the balcony. spare hand in marriage dude (gn) you looked so good

second place for costume of all time goes to the other mother cosplayer who had button eyes and these crazy finger appendages and never once broke character even while waiting in lines

i took 100 points of psychic damage from this one guy who (and im not kidding) was at least 6’4’’ and wearing platform boots and was dressed as the mfing onceler. with the stupid top hat he was fr 7+ feet tall (i saw him duck to get through a doorway).

someone was there as the brawny paper towel guy?? just walking around in a beard and flannel carrying a pack of paper towel rolls?? go off king

i saw 5 nightwing cosplayers but only 2 were biblically accurate (had ass)

the nanami sweep at this convention was so real u all SHOWED UP. and everybody ate. i saw at least 12 nanamis and not one of them was a flop.

i have never seen so many spider-mans in my life

other things:

fig. 1: this extremely hot captain america on a very large poster was about 2 make me act unwise. hi gorjus................................. nice eyebrows

fig 2: i saw this sign a couple blocks away from the con and i did a triple take. 🔥🔥🔥TRIMAX MENTIONED🔥🔥🔥

fig. 3: i saw all 4 hobbits in panel and can confirm elijah wood’s laugh is ten times more infectious in real life. before they were even done sitting down, dominic monaghan switched around all of their name cards so that none of them were seated behind the right name. as u might imagine much of the panel's content was reminiscing about LOTR, but i heard some stories that i hadn't heard before. they also talked about video games, other projects they are working/have worked on, how their kids feel about their dads' LOTR roles, how much they love ian mckellen, and how they would love to see something happen for the 20th anniversary of ROTK this year. sean astin (the legend) took shots at the stranger things writers (basically said joyce could never be happy with hopper) AND EVERYONE CLAPPED LOL. billy and dom talked about the best food in NZ, their show billy and dom eat the world, and the unfortunate events that led to the friendship onion's hiatus. it was a ton of fun to just watch them be themselves with each other, you can tell that these guys are all so fond of each other and love each other so much.

and finally, fig. 4: i bought these beautiful prints from @/batinyourbelfry and the skeletal washi tape from @/skeletalacademia (both on IG)

#this post is all over the place but i want u all to experience this with me. baby's first convention #i didn't hate it like i thought i might but i am absolutely WIPED and will b perfectly content to not go to another con for several years #lacc #los angeles comic con #it's so funny walking around and just hearing someone go VASH and literally being like. who said that.#like there are 5 million people in this corridor. where are u so i can acknowledge you #my immediate defense mechanism is to toss up a peace sign so it's very convenient that it is something in character for vash #my favorite compliment was this one guy who was just like 'THAT'S FUCKIN SICK' from across the aisle and i was like 'YEAH!!!!'#long post #ackchewally the more i think about it. i do think sometimes people mischaracterize stampede as lighter than the other triguns #simply because the characters look more baby than their other counterparts #even though many elements of stampede are. truly so dark.#like we are not at manga-level-dark yet but HOO BOY i have no doubt we will get there #i'm dying to see what other horrors orange is cooking bc i KNOW they're cooking awful manga things (laudatory)#hot single dads in your area #my cosplay #this post has taken me hours to write. im so sick of it at this point begone from my sight i hate u

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whipplefilter · 5 months ago

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Auto Racing Analytics is my new favorite account, because who doesn't love a spider graph?? I love a spider graph:

I initially found this account through a post that had that blue line and was like, "guess whose stats these are." And I was immediately like, that is the most 5-coded blue line. Operating at such a high level! So well-rounded! Except for the giant chomp taken out of it where DNFs and crash avoidance are concerned, hahaha...ha!

Going into Indy, I was talking to @the-kings-tail-fin about how, on any given day, the 5 could not be trusted in the way that the 9 could, and that the 24 was seasonally trustworthy (one of those seasons not being summer). I'd wanted to make a post about my thoughts on Kyle Larson's driving style, but chickened out of it because it's not as though I had any actual data aside from anecdotal evidence of having watched more of his Cup races than I haven't. But look, a spider graph! That affirms my personal impressions!

So let's talk about Kyle Larson and the 5. Kyle Larson is known for being good, which in racing generally means fast. HMS can put together some fast cars. But the fastest car isn't always the winning car. So what've we got? Here are my novice takes:

fast -- yes

loose -- he prefers a loose racecar (as opposed to tight)--understeer in the corners, where the back tends to swing out. If you can control it, you can find speed this way. Con? The if, I guess. And tire management, because a tire that's sliding isn't rolling.

aggressive -- Larson's self-descriptor, which in his context means shoving a car in places it does not seem like a car can fit (and often finding that it does not, in fact, fit there).

Case in point:

That was re: late braking/brake lockup, but when other cars are involved, aggression looks like shoving a car in places that dare the other guy to wreck them both or lift. This is why the "terminal avoidance" and "crash avoidance" stats take such a nosedive--because sometimes when you're playing with fire like that, you mess up. Or the other guy doesn't lift. But it makes for fantastic spectating, especially when coupled with the daring required to pass and come up the field (when you have the speed to do so). That kind of run can also be hard on tires, as well as fuel, though fuel is not typically as big a storyline as it has been in 2024. And I will say that KL has gotten a lot better at tire management than he has been in the past.

creative -- Adaptability to an ever-changing track and, again, the daring to try new lines and search around for whatever works, which Jeff Gordon describes as a dirt race thing, in that it's the bread and butter of that form of racing, given that a dirt track is different every lap.

clean -- It doesn't seem like "clean" and "aggressive" would go hand in hand, since being aggressive can result in wrecks and also means you're a pain in the bum to anyone you're racing, but there's lots of flavors to "aggressive" and KL is not a "rattle his cage" kind of guy. Which isn't to say the racing won't get phyisical--it just probably won't be retaliatory.

For example, my biggest kink is Kyle Larson getting eaten alive by JGR, and KyBu and Denny Hamlin have, historically, done this a lot, because their form of aggression is a lot more toothy, if you will. But KL's bit back sometimes, too. (MTJ has gotten in on this action by beating KL on restarts for years straight. But as you'll see in the graph, restarts have improved!)

I'll also note that I've definitely seen KL punt a backrunner out of his way, so he's not above such things entirely. But he's a terrible person to pick a fight with outside of the car, because he won't fight back.

He's just great to watch, on TV and live. Even if this style of racing is exceptionally make-or-break in a playoffs format, because when it's good it's so, so good and when it's bad it's real bad. But such are the tradeoffs, and it's really cool to look back and recognize the level of excellence that's happening in the car.

I'll caveat that by saying that I've watched Kyle Larson miss pit road in an Xfinity race because he... forgot?? to pay attention??? and have seen him wheel hop his way around a road course and tear the tires of a racecar overdriving it and push extremely badly in the draft and whiff a restart to the point of no return, and that realistically I've probably also seen him do... most of those things... in 2024, too... I saw someone say once that for someone so talented KL sure does a lot of things that are incredibly, gobsmackingly dumb, and I probably wouldn't argue against that.

#i had to take my car to one of its ~little appointments~ today and the undercoating place is 50 miles away #so you can bet i spent the whole time just thinking about that spider graph #my next train of thought was 'i wonder what lightning mcqueen's graph looks like'#well my second train of thought was 'i wonder what my bleach blorbo's graph looks like' but THEN LMQ #i have some other fandom stuff i should do first but i definitely want to headcanon a LMQ graph #despite the plot of cars 3 i think LMQ has good crash avoidance because if he didn't rusteze wouldn't have made it as a team budget-wise #though i think i've also written headcanons on this blog about him having a much more sinusoidal running position than the King #kyle larson #nascar #real racing

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j-nipper-95 · 9 months ago

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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @artsyunderstudy @iamamythologicalcreature @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage and @ic3-que3n

I am definitely procrastinating on both my WIPs at the moment. Trails is back in limbo, and ASR has taken up permanent residence there recently, and I desperately want to get back to both of them. Here's hoping this will kick start something in my brain! I do love a good Q&A, so let's dive in!

1. 🦈 Tell us the name of your/one of your WIP(s):

I have two WIPs I am actively writing, and one I haven't started on yet, but desperately want to. The Trails We Blaze was my Carry On Through the Ages 2023 fic, and is a The Road to El Dorado!au. Then there's my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge, which I've been writing for far too long and it definitely needs to be published soon!

2. 🍄 Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of "___ + ___ = ___"

Ok, this is much harder than I thought it would be, there's so many elements to each of these WIPs, so bare with me.

Trails: con men in 1920s London find map to Atlantis + WW1 trauma + gang warfare + repressed romantic feelings = friends to lovers action, adventure, and chaos across western Europe that's probably been too intensely researched for the sake of historical accuracy

(Side note: this isn't how I thought I'd use my degrees in history and archaeology, but here we are!)

A Survivor's Revenge: marvel cinematic universe + James Bond = ASR

or - what would happen if Bucky wasn't brainwashed by Hydra and sought revenge on the scientists who experimented on him, was a 14 year old school girl instead of a grown man, and had elemental powers + MI6 super spies and the general aesthetic of a Bond movie = a stab first/ask questions later FMC willing to do whatever it takes to keep her loved ones safe (and I do mean whatever it takes - Lauren hasn't baulked at anything I've thrown at her yet).

3. 🌍 What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it.

ASR will definitely need some trigger warnings for violence (if only because of Lauren's penchant for it), and if it were being posted to AO3 the series as a whole would probably require a 'main character death' warning. This is your formal warning, no one is safe in my writing.

Trails is rated M, so there's not going to be anything too graphic or explicit, but it does have a PTSD tag, as the fic tackles both Baz and Simon's trauma from living through the First World War, and specifically Baz's claustrophobia. So I would probably warn about the panic attacks and discussion of how Baz became claustrophobic.

4. 🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Neither of these had alternative titles other than my save names (Spy Novel and SnowBaz fanfic) before I decided on anything. I'm useless at coming up with titles, and I can't really claim full credit for either. A friend from uni came up with A Survivor's Revenge, which is really fitting, as revenge is a major theme in the book. And The Trails We Blaze is a reference to one of the songs from the movie The Road to El Dorado, and was Ashton's suggestion when we were bouncing ideas back and forth last year.

5. ⚠️ Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Trails will definitely be finished before ASR, purely because ASR is going to be published as a proper book, and I don't have the cash to do this independently, or the publishing deal to do it traditionally. So I know this will take time. But I am currently working on the next chapter of Trails, so hopefully it won't be too long before I can post it.

6. 💾 What is your document of your WIP/a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)

I have so many variations of both WIPs it's ridiculous. I swear there's been 100+ iterations of ASR over the years, all with variations on either A Survivor's Revenge/ASR or Spy Novel as their title.

With Trails I have my base document, which is where the rough first draft happens, in Scrivener: the trails we blaze - draft copy. And then I also have my final document in pages, where I fix the formatting ahead of exporting to AO3 (because AO3 hates it when I do it straight from scrivener and gets rid of all my italics!): the trails we blaze upload copy.

7. 🖍 Post any sentence(s) from your WIP.

This is probably one of my favourite exchanges in the first ASR book.

“Just like old times,” Lauren said. “Tell me, did you consciously decide to make my PTSD worse by assigning him to me, or was that a happy accident?” “What’s the diagnosis?” Vanessa asked, ignoring Lauren. “Fractured ribs, minor internal abdominal bleeding, concussion, and three broken fingers. She needs to rest for at least a week,” Todd said. “She has a name,” Lauren muttered. “The internal bleeding is minor for the moment, but won’t be if she doesn’t rest.” “Who’s ‘she’ in this, the cat’s mother? I am here, you know.” “Yes, and whilst I would love to trade witticisms with you, I do actually have a job to do. Part of which involves divulging a diagnosis, and pardon me if I feel certain people in this room are going to be more receptive and actually take my advice when I give it.” Lauren glanced at Vanessa. “Is he always like this?” “Just with patients. And most of the people who work here.” “So, everyone?” Vanessa thought for a moment, then bobbed her head from side to side in a movement that said Pretty much, yeah. “If we’re quite done discussing my conduct, I do actually have other patients who need my attention.” “Poor sods.” “Yes, of course,” Vanessa said, ignoring Lauren’s comments. “Have you got a treatment plan sorted?” “I’m nothing if not professional.” “Did someone switch the definition of ‘sarcastic asshat’ and ‘professional’ in the dictionary when I wasn’t looking?” Todd twisted ever so slightly away from Lauren, instead focusing entirely on Vanessa.

8. ♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Initially in ASR Lauren was framed for the murder of a student, alongside releasing the main villain from prison (not a spoiler, it's literally in my synopsis, no worries there!), and afterward she was forced to go on the run. Essentially, it made the heads of MI6 and Lauren's best friends into her enemies for a few chapters of my drafts a couple of years back. I loved this idea, and genuinely want to implement something along these lines again, because it was an interesting position to put the characters in, but I also really love where the plot is taking them currently, so we'll see if it truly ends up remaining scrapped or not.

9. 🤔 What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

Another original novel, this time firmly rooted in science fiction (no superhero/light fantasy elements here), where time travel is possible, but the super anxious MC refuses to use his powers to travel back in time because of the side effects of said power. Gay romance, anxiety, angst, all the good stuff!

10. 🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?

I'm not too active on either of my WIPs at the moment. Work's been crazy lately, and I flip between feeling super burnt out creatively and being too tired to do much. But Trails and ASR continue to be my most active WIPs.

11. 🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

In Trails I've hit an intimate scene, and my little ace brain doesn't know how to approach it! Plus, I don't know how far I can stretch the M rating before we enter E territory.

12. ❤️ Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

All of the kudos to everyone! I wish there was a way to leave it more than once, because seriously, the CO fandom is so unbelievably talented, my God!!

Tagging (sorry if you’ve already done this):

@blackberrysummerblog

@orange-peony

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@palimpsessed

#wip tag #q&a #a survivor's revenge #original fiction #the trails we blaze #snowbaz #fanfic

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itsclydebitches · 2 years ago

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The opposition to rewrites in the FNDM is just so goddamn weird to me, given that one of the cornerstones of another fandom I'm in is a rewrite of a canon storyline that had some really cool ideas but dogshit execution. I see people saying that the rewriters are arrogant for thinking that they can do RWBY better than the official team, but no, in my experience even if they are arrogant it's equally possible that they're right. Official doesn't mean "The Best" or even "Good", just official.

Exactly. Ultimately it shouldn't even matter whether rewrites are "good" or not because

a) That's a highly subjective interpretation no one will ever agree on

b) They're written by amateurs for free as a hobby - with "amateur" meaning someone who does not produce RWBY writing in a professional capacity, not someone who is automatically "bad" at the art - and thus rewrites would be at huge disadvantage even if we did want to judge their quality

and c) That's just what fanfiction is?? Transformation??? The writer's motivation is inconsequential. Whether they're producing this because they think they can craft a better story than canon, or whether they simply want a creative means of celebrating it, the end result is still the same: a new, unofficial RWBY product that readers will inevitably compare to the original, favorably or otherwise

So yeah, it's wild to me. I've literally never seen another fandom so anti-rewrite. It's usually the opposite - as you say, a cornerstone of fan engagement - where fans, both jokingly and not, talk about how sometimes fic is a love letter and sometimes it's a "FUCK YOU STRONGLY WORDED TELEGRAM TO FOLLOW." Despite RWBY appearing unique at first glance (from my perspective, anyway) I wonder if part of this is due to larger fandom trends? Meaning, RWBY is comparatively young as fandoms go and I've noticed in recent years a prioritization of canon that hasn't been around before, particularly when it comes to shipping. Some of that is good imo (like the push for queer canonization) and some of it is just downright odd (what do you mean I'm not "allowed" to ship them just because they haven't spoken to each on screen? Since when is THAT a requirement?). Though RWBY is definitely an extreme case, there seems to be this generalized move from, "This is our canon and it's great, or maybe it sucks, but either way it's a spring board for all of THESE cool things" to "This is our canon and it is scared. It is perfect, flaws and all. If you're going to add to it I need a detailed proposal for how this fits into the established world, encapsulates the original author's vision, and maintains characterization even though I'm too young to know what OOC stands for." Certainly in RWBY's case, I wonder if part of it stems from the rise in social media and, as a result, fans "personal" relationships with the actors and writers. When you're seeing a creator's tweets all day and feeling like they're your online friend, you might be less inclined to "mess with" their work; as opposed to seeing an actor/writer at a con once a year, going home, recognizing that they're a complete stranger outside of any fantasies, and then getting on with playing in their sandbox because why wouldn't you? They're never going to know. This is the age of fans sending their fic to actors to read aloud and tweeting at writers that such-and-such had this to say about the show. Though this was done in a cool and positive light, I have legit had a meta of mine tweeted at a OFMD actor and, if the like he gave is any indication, he read it... which is a weird thing to think about considering he was not the audience I had in mind while crafting it. Those kinds of interactions has got to have some kind of impact on fans' perception of what they can and cannot do with the material...

Anyway, today's PSA is that if you want to do a rewrite of any story - yes, even RWBY! - you are absolutely allowed to do that regardless of how "good" it supposedly is. Go forth and get creative. Get messy. Do whatever the hell you want and if someone in the fandom tries to make you feel bad about that, tell me and I'll manifest a Lego in their shoe.

After all, it's not like the entirety of RWBY is built on transforming others' stories or anything :)

#rwde #rwby #fic things #mymetas

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somestorythoughts · 9 months ago

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Back with some immortal Leverage Crew

I am back on my bullshit. Well. Just a little bit. I may have more. This is gonna be my day's writing requirement.

Anyway, one with the Leverage Immortals! This one's about Sophie:

It's been a while since she's held onto an identity for more than 15 years.

She's definitely had names that lasted longer. It's hardly unusual for her to take on an identity for a few decades, a life that she goes back to when she's taken off the mask of whoever she's pretending to be for her latest grift. She kept her birthname for the longest, but she's had other names that lasted anywhere from thirty to forty years. The longest lasted fifty-two.

But lately, none of the names seem to stick. Most of the names she's had in the past century barely lasted a decade if that, the fifteen-year name (Eliza Preston, she'd liked the sound of it) was the exception. She isn't sure why.

Sophie Deveraux is the current name and it's served her well, she's built up a nice reputation with it, but while she's not quite ready to let Sophie go she expects she will be within the next two years. She's taking a break from grifting now, trying out acting that doesn't come with lying.

Nate Ford knows her as Sophie Deveraux. That's the name he uses when he and three others ask for her help taking down a guy that conned them and tried to kill them.

She likes Nate, for someone on the other side of the law, and she heard about his son. She can come out of her little retirement for this.

She wouldn't say she trusts the other four of them by the end of the con, and it's too far to say she truly likes them, but well. She would enjoy working with them more. So when Alec Hardison goes back to Nate, followed by Parker and Eliot Spencer, she joins them.

Sophie is what they call her when she isn't being someone else.

And then. Sophie Deveraux doesn't die, not exactly, and she attends her own funeral where the empty coffin is buried under a stranger's name and it's just. She feels off-kilter. Unsettled. Like her foundations have been shaken and only now can she see how unsteady they've been. And the names she goes back to when she isn't grifting, they're not supposed to be personas, they're supposed to provide stability and something she can build a reputation behind if she wants, but they've become personas haven't they? How long has it been since she's been herself?

She needs to go. Needs to sort herself out, remember or decide or find out who she is under all the people she's been.

So she leaves.

And later, Sophie Deveraux returns to her family.

#gonna have to go through and makre sure all of these have the leverage immortals au tag #leverage immortals au #sophie devereaux #leverage #immortals au #leverage immortals #leverage team

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cnjosephs · 2 years ago

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Writing/Publishing Resources

I've had a few people lately ask for the writing/publishing resources and knowledge I've collected over the past ~2 years of working on getting published, so I thought I'd just collect them all in a post that I can link people. Here we go:

What are your options for publishing a book?

The main options you'll find discussed are traditional publishing and self publishing.

Traditional Publishing: Publishing a book through a publishing house, like Simon & Schuster or Macmillan. The majority of books you see in bookstores will be traditionally published. When you traditionally publish a book, you sell the rights for it to a publisher, who then takes care of the actual publishing process for you. There are a wide variety of publishers out there, some very large and some very small.

Pros: Traditional publishing generally (though not always) gets you a bigger paycheck and gets your book in front of more people. The publisher will also pay for editing, cover design, etc—with traditional publishing, you shouldn't be expected to pay for any publishing expenses.

Cons: You often have less control over the book. It can also be very hard to get a book traditionally published—there are a lot of authors trying to publish their books and a much smaller number of books actually getting published every year. Additionally, a lot of marginalized authors struggle to get their books traditionally published, because publishers will either refuse to consider them outright or will try to say "We'll only publish you if you make your main characters straight/cis/white/monogamous/able-bodied/etc".

Self Publishing: Publishing a book yourself. While some people claim that self published books never make it into bookstores, there are actually bookstores (mostly independent ones) that carry self-published books that meet certain requirements. With self publishing, you keep all of your rights and handle the publishing process yourself. Many people just self-publish ebooks, but it is also possible to self-publish hard copies.

Pros: You retain full creative control of the book. You can publish absolutely whatever you want without needing to convince a publisher to do it. This also means that you have full freedom to publish sequels, prequels, etc, which can be hard to get a traditional publisher to agree to unless your book sold unusually well.

Cons: You have to either handle all aspects of publishing yourself or pay people to do it for you. This includes editing, cover design, managing social media, managing pre-order campaigns, laying out the book file, and of course, actually publishing it. If you're doing it all yourself, it's a lot of work, and it may not all be work you enjoy or are skilled at. If you're paying people to do it, the costs add up fast, and can easily total in the thousands by the time you're done. It can also be harder to make money and to get readers, though there are self-published authors who have done a great job at that.

While some traditionally published authors look down on self-published authors, I'm of the opinion that neither way is inherently better or worse than the other. They're both perfectly valid options for publishing a book, and it really just comes down to what works better for you, personally.

I haven't researched self publishing or nonfiction trad publishing as much, so this is going to focus on fiction trad publishing. If anyone wants to reblog with self publishing or nonfiction trad publishing resources, please do!

One last thing I want to note: many (maybe most, though I'm not 100% sure) publishers won't consider publishing a book that's been previously self-published. Others may consider it, but only under very special circumstances. If you're considering self publishing a book and then later trying to get it trad published, just keep in mind that self publishing it first could make it significantly harder (though not impossible) to get it trad published later.

How do you traditionally publish a book?

A lot of people are under the impression that to publish a book, you just mail your manuscript off to a publisher and hope they respond. These days, the process is actually a bit different. The steps to traditionally publishing a book are, generally speaking:

Write a full book (called a manuscript, sometimes abbreviated MS) and edit it to make sure it's as good as it can possibly be. Ideally, you'll also get feedback from other people on your manuscript before you send it out to make sure it's super solid

Submit your story to literary agents. The exact process for this differs by agent: some agents have you submit via a form on their website, others through a form on a website called Query Manager, and others through email. Exactly what you send will also vary by agent, but basically every agent will ask for a query letter, which you can think of as being sort of like a cover letter for your book. If an agent asks that you submit any part of your manuscript, it will generally just be a small part (e.g. first chapter, first 20 pages) rather than the entire manuscript

If any agents are interested in seeing more of your manuscript, they'll get back to you and request either a full manuscript (you send them the whole thing) or a partial manuscript (you send them part of it)

If an agent who requested to see more of your manuscript thinks that your story has publishing potential and they're interested in helping you publish it, they'll offer to represent your manuscript. Generally, you have a phone call with them at this point to go over all of the details, then wait 1-2 weeks to give them a response so you can reach out to any other agents you have active queries with and say "Hey, I just got an offer of representation, if you're interested in making your own offer, please respond by X date"

Once you have your agent, your agent may help you edit your book further or they may think it's fine as is. Once you're both happy with the book, you'll go on submission, meaning that the agent is going to reach out to editors at different publishing houses and say "Hey, I've got this book, do you wanna publish it?"

Ideally, at least one editor will make an offer, and if you agree with the terms they're offering, that's it—you're gonna be published! However, it is possible that no editors will make an offer, at which point you'll have to discuss with your agent if you want to keep trying with this book, try again with another book, or stop entirely

I will caution you now that it's very hard to get a book traditionally published. Recent surveys I've seen have put average rates of agents requesting fulls around 3-7%, depending on age range and genre. And that's not even rates for offering representation—that's just for saying "I want to read the full manuscript", which may or may not lead to an offer of rep (when I was querying SISTER OF THE SUN, three agents requested fulls, and none of them ended up offering rep).

It is also possible that you'll get an agent and get an offer to publish the book, but the offer will be conditional on terms that you don't want to agree with—I've known authors of color who got told "We'll only publish your book if you make the main character white", queer authors who got told "We'll only publish your book if you make the main character straight and cis", etc. They may also have terms that aren't necessarily bigoted but that you still don't want to agree to, like "We'll only publish your book if you remove the heist subplot" or "We'll only publish your book if you can cut 20,000 words from the manuscript".

None of this is intended to be discouraging or to say "nobody should try to get traditionally published"—I'm trying to get traditionally published right now!—but just to set expectations. Getting trad published is hard, and it takes most people a few tries before they can get a book published. Not being able to publish the first (or second, or third, or) book that you write doesn't necessarily mean you're a horrible writer who should just give up. Sometimes it takes a few tries.

I also want to be clear that, despite the warning I gave two paragraphs ago, there are marginalized authors who have successfully trad published a book without making those sacrifices. While it can be hard, it is possible, especially if you have an agent who will really champion your book.

Age Ranges

At some point before you attempt to publish your novel, you'll need to decide what age range is it. Many agents only represent certain age ranges, and will reject you immediately if you query a book in an age range they don't represent (e.g. if they only represent adult books and you try to query a middle grade novel, they'll probably auto reject you). The common age ranges are:

Board Book: A short book made of thick, durable cardboard; examples include Goodnight Moon and Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?; typical reader age range is around 0-3

Picture Books: Slightly longer than board books and often printed on regular paper, but still contain illustrations on all or most pages; examples include Pete the Cat and Dr. Seuss’ books; typical reader age range is around 3-6

Chapter Books: Books that are longer than picture books and sorted into chapters, but still short and intended for young readers; examples include Junie B. Jones and Magic Tree House; typical reader age range is around 6-9

Middle Grade: Longer and more complex books intended for pre-teens; examples include Percy Jackson and Coraline; typical reader age range is around 9-13

Young Adult: Books intended for teenagers, fairly similar to adult but generally have a teenage protagonist and less mature themes; examples include The Hunger Games and To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before; typical reader age range is around 13-16

Adult: Books intended for adults; examples include This is How You Lose the Time War and The Song of Achilles; typical reader age range is around 16+

There’s also a proposed category called New Adult (NA), intended for readers around the 18-24 age range and focusing on characters around the same age. Unfortunately, the publishing industry has largely not responded to attempts to get this to be widespread, and it’s still a pretty niche concept. That isn’t to say that stories don’t get published that do, arguably, fit the definition of New Adult (personally, I think that both The Locked Tomb series and The Magicians could be viewed as NA), but the authors generally have to bill them as either YA or adult. If you’re writing a book that fits the bill for NA, you’ll probably have better luck querying it if you can reasonably describe it as either YA or adult.

Final note: you may see some discussion of kidlit. This is short for "children's literature" and refers to all of the categories except adult (an author who writes exclusively YA and an author who writes exclusively picture books are both considered kidlit writers).

Publishing Resources

Finally, here are a bunch of publishing resources I've accrued over the past two years!

Writing

On Writing Emotion

Capturing Voice!

How Long Should a Book Be? (Note: Please read this; it may seem like an inconsequential thing, but having a book that's significantly longer or shorter than genre standards can actually tank your chances of getting published)

Editing & Polishing

Tightening Prose

When Should I Spell Out Numbers? | Grammarly

Final Editing Checklist

Querying

Querying (1): Step by Step Query Process

Perfect Pitch

Query Letter Length: How Long Should Your Query Letter Be?

Advice for querying authors (Twitter thread)

questions to ask an agent on The Call

The Query Simplified

Pitch Wars: The Synopsis … simplified